breath broke the spell of the moment. Cilia looked to their friend, their ally and savior. Her eyes were wide and dark, and her lips were parted; her chest rose and fell with her excitement.
“It is true.” The Lady rasped.
Cilia and Fiach’s eyes met. Cilia had been born a Phoenix, but by claiming Fiach as her mate she made him dependent on her fiery blood to live. The sheer eroticism of the act ensured that both parties found pleasure with the exchange. By the heated look on the Lady’s face, she was not immune to the ritual either.
Cilia arched her neck and brushed the fall of hair and feathers from her throat; she waited for her lover to claim her.
*
Fiach remembered; with relief, he knew why every sexual act and every drop of blood that he had taken from others had been found wanting. He knew, now, that his body had primed itself for taking Cilia’s essence and had been starving without it. He had fed from other lovers, but it had never slacked the hunger.
When Cilia revealed the silky strip of flesh at her neck, he lowered his head to nibble along the delicate column of her throat. A soft moan incited him as he bared his fangs and pierced her deeply. Her heat rolled over his tongue and filled his body, making him feel alive with her flame. He suckled the small punctures and coaxed the life-giving liquid from them. The fiery tang of her blood bathed his mouth with her taste and left him wanting more, needing more. He needed a taste of flesh to temper the sweetly spiced richness of her blood. He pulled away and watched a rivulet of blood flow down her neck to curve over one breast.
Cilia moved in tandem, reading the needs of his body. She shifted on his lap until she straddled him and then reached between them to free the erection eagerly pressing against his zipper. Fiach had dressed her in another diaphanous gown, and since he made sure his clothing procuring skills excluded undergarments of any kind, she was deliciously bare and open for him.
He lowered in his chair. His hips tipped upward and positioned the wet tip of his arousal at her entrance. The Lady gasped; her hands slipped beneath the table where Fiach imagined she would pleasure herself as she watched them mate and him feed.
Cilia glowed above him. She rested her palms on his shoulders and began the slow slide up and down his cock. Her juices coated him; her pussy was so soft and warm that he could die now with sure knowledge that he would never find anything more pleasurable than being inside of her. He pulled her close and licked the line of blood still staining her pale skin. Where the line of crimson fluid stopped, he nestled into the sheer fabric of her dress to capture a pebbled nipple in his mouth. He sucked and nipped before returning to lave away the final traces of his earlier carelessness. When he reached her throat and licked over the pinpricks, his erection jumped. It wanted more. He continued to lap at her as the red beads formed against her delicate skin, still so hungry but afraid to feed again so soon.
Cilia rocked against him, and he realized with shame that he had stopped thrusting into her. He was preoccupied with her blood, and his hunger had clouded his mind.
“You need to feed,” she said and began slipping up and down his shaft.
He groaned and let his head fall back. “It’s too soon. I would take too much.”
“I trust you. You’ve gone too long without my blood; I can spare a little more.”
Fiach was tired of fighting the desire to bury his teeth at her neck while he brought her to orgasm. With her permission granted, he planned to make them both enjoy it.
He pulled her forward into the tight circle of his arms. He pressed her into his chest and brushed his cheek against hers. She slid down the thick stalk of his flesh as she settled further against him. When she flipped her hair over her shoulder, his eyes rolled back, and he pierced her skin below his first puncture. Cilia whimpered as his suckling