The Blood Contract-Chapter 106: Choose me

Lucian picked up the pace, his movements faster as he applied just the right amount of pressure. The effect was immediate. A sharp gasp tore from her lips, turning into a trembling moan that caught in the back of her throat. Her skin prickled with heat as his touch glided over her most sensitive flesh, dragging out sensations that felt too big for her body to hold.

Every nerve ending lit up like a thousand sparks dancing just beneath her skin. He watched her closely, intently, not for permission but for her reaction. She was setting fire to his bones with the subtle twitch of her hips, the way her lashes fluttered against flushed cheeks, the faintest tremble in her breath. It was as though her body was learning to speak a new language, and he was translating it with his touch.

Having decided he was not going to risk sex with her, he took his time instead to give her an experience of a lifetime, one she would not forget in a hurry. One she would always come back for.

He dragged the pad of his finger slowly, achingly slowly, along her folds, spreading the wetness he found there without pushing inside. The teasing left her thighs quivering, her heart pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. The anticipation built with every second, every calculated stroke that skirted around where she needed him most. Her breath came in shallow, shaky pulls as he paused to watch her, his gaze dark and knowing.

"You feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and thick with restraint. His lips hovered near her ear, and the warmth of his breath sent a shiver through her spine. "That’s how badly your body wants this."

She tried to respond, but her voice was trapped somewhere in her chest. All she could do was nod, dazed, overwhelmed by the sensations he was stirring within her. Her chest heaved, her skin flushed with heat.

Then, finally, he eased one long finger inside her, the intrusion gentle but penetrating. Her breath caught in her throat. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She gripped the sheets beneath her, her mouth falling open as the sensation overwhelmed her.

Lucian didn’t move right away. He held himself perfectly still, his eyes never leaving her face. He was watching for any sign of protest, but what he saw instead made his pulse quicken. Her brows were drawn together, her lips parted in a gasp, and her hips shifted restlessly beneath his hand, already seeking more.

"Fucking tight," he said, voice a low growl. "Should I stop?"

She shook her head quickly, her breath ragged. "No," she whispered, desperate to hold on to the feeling, to the fullness of him inside her. There was something so raw, so intimate about the way her body clung to his finger. Much as the feeling was foreign, every tiny movement sent waves of pleasure rippling through her, building something deep and aching.

He began to move then, slow and controlled, curling his finger slightly, just enough to press against that hidden place inside her that made her hips buck and her breath stutter. She whimpered, hands fisting in the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as she tried to make sense of the flood of sensation. Then, without warning, he added a second finger. The stretch made her gasp, her legs twitching around his hand.

Her cries were soft, vulnerable, full of need. The sound of his fingers moving inside her was wet and obscene, but it only seemed to arouse him more. His thumb brushed over her clit, a light, rhythmic stroke that made her thighs jerk and her back arch helplessly off the bed.

"Lucian," she breathed, her voice breaking under the weight of sensation. "I— I think I’m—"

But he already knew. He felt her walls tightening, fluttering around his fingers, felt the way her body tensed beneath his hand like a bowstring drawn too tight. She was seconds away, right on the edge, trembling.

And then he stopped.

He withdrew his fingers, pulling away completely. The sudden emptiness hit her like a slap. Her entire body seized with shock, her mouth falling open in disbelief. The climax that had been building so powerfully vanished like smoke, leaving only the hollow ache of its absence.

"What—?" she gasped, blinking up at him, dazed and confused. "Why did you stop?"

Lucian’s expression was calm, almost cold, though his eyes still burned with heat. He leaned over her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips.

"It’s not time for you to come yet," he said, each word crisp and deliberate.

Her world tilted. Her mind spun in circles. She didn’t understand. How could something that had felt so right, so close to consuming her whole, be denied without warning? Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him in disbelief.

"Why?" she whispered again, feeling utterly lost. "Why would you do that?"

"Punishment for siding with your husband’s enemy," he said simply, and Serena couldn’t believe her ears. Were they back to this? And why was he bringing it up at a time like this?

"I already apologized," Serena said, and he nodded slowly.

"You did, but it’s not enough. I want something else."

"What?"

"A promise that you will never take his side again especially when he’s going head to head with me." Lucian revealed his demand.

"You are asking me to choose between you and my friend."

"No, I am asking you to choose me, for as long as we’ll be together," Lucian said.

His words echoed in her ears, cruel and captivating all at once. Her body was still trembling, but now with a mix of frustration and confusion.

He sat back slowly, watching her, and Serena clenched her jaws.

"Fine."

"Fine what?"

"I will not take his side against you anymore. You’ll come first for as long as we’re together."

Satisfaction glinted in Lucian’s eyes. "Come here," he gestured with his hand for her to come to him, and she did.

"Now," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Your turn. Use your mouth. And your hand. Again."

Serena moved without thinking, still reeling, still aching. Her limbs felt heavy, unsteady, but she crawled toward him, her hands brushing over his thighs as she settled between them once more. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his thick shaft.

He was still hard, pulsing under her grip.

"Grip tighter," he said softly, his hand guiding hers. "Now stroke. Slowly. Up, then down. Don’t rush it."

Her movements were tentative at first, but the feel of him responding beneath her touch gave her confidence. She glanced up at him, saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened, and a thrill shot through her.

"Mouth now," he instructed.

She obeyed. Her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling gently. His groan was immediate and low, vibrating through the air like thunder.

"Good," he whispered. "You’re learning."

His hand threaded into her hair again, but he didn’t push. He simply held her there, letting her find her own rhythm. Her hand moved in tandem with her mouth, and soon she could feel him start to lose control. His hips shifted forward, his breath grew ragged.

But again, just before he reached the edge, he pulled her off him.

"That’s enough," he said, his voice tight.

She looked up at him, stunned and breathless. Her lips were swollen, her hand still hovering near him.

"Again?" she whispered, unsure whether to be insulted or desperate for more.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he pushed her back onto the bed, his hands sliding down her body, spreading her thighs with firm, commanding pressure.

Then his mouth was on her.

His tongue parted her folds with the same slow torture as before, but this time there was no hesitation. He licked her like he owned her, like every breath she took belonged to him. She sobbed, her body arching, her hands flying to his hair.

His fingers joined in again, two of them sinking into her wet heat while his mouth focused on her clit. The dual sensation was too much. Her body couldn’t contain it. She was shaking within seconds, her thighs closing around his head, her cries growing louder and louder until she shattered.

The orgasm hit her like a wave crashing into rocks. She screamed his name, her entire body writhing beneath him. Her legs trembled, her chest heaved, and still he didn’t stop. He licked her through it, holding her down, grounding her as she fell apart.

When he finally pulled away, her body was limp, boneless.

She barely registered the motion as he knelt beside her, stroking himself now with a fierce, focused grip. She watched through heavy-lidded eyes, barely able to move.

"You have no idea," he said, his voice rough and reverent, "what you do to me."

Then with a low, guttural growl, he came. His release spilled hot across her stomach, painting her skin with the proof of his desire. He didn’t look away, didn’t break eye contact, not even for a second.

Lucian leaned over her, brushing her damp hair from her forehead, his breath slowing.

"We’re far from done," he whispered against her skin.

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