Darcy drank from her with greedy pulls from her wound, which eagerly gushed and fed his mouth, his lethal fangs refusing to release their hold. The contrasting sounds of pleasure along with his feasting and the steady driving force of his body filled the cabin of his truck. That truck, that had once been pristine and perfect was now coated in blood, its newness practically christened by a passionate frenzied state. Not that she could focus on much else. He didn't miss a single beat either. At that moment, he was everything. Everywhere, consuming her in every way imaginable. She wanted it, needed..it. Perhaps that was more shocking than anything else. That she could allow him to take her this way As if this somehow this was exactly what she had at least needed a taste of. How well, he played his role, like he was destined to it. As if some chaotic bond somehow forged into place and strengthening it. Somehow. How she didn't even realize it, barely able to recognize it through the addictive pain and pleasure that raked through her so resolutely.

Why hadn't she allowed him before? What a strange question to pass her mind and yet gone as quickly as it made its appearance... far too focused on what her lover was doing with his talented hips and actively meeting him as though she craved and anticipated the way he all but devoured her in every way he could.

Her cowboy was exactly the monster she had made, one that finally came out to play. Yet, he was far too lost in his feeding... lost in her that she saw an opening.

It was reason enough that he does not anticipate Risque broke free from the makeshift shackles of his strong hands that bound her wrists. She refused to simply allow him to fuck and drain her into oblivion. His weaponous teeth seemed to tighten against her throat as if in punishment. As if refusing to let his prize go. She was reminded by the breathtaking sharpness, the utter power of his jaws that only cause his teeth to sink possessively deeper into her dainty neck. That perfect blend of pain and pleasure was nearly all-consuming, blinding. It was an endless cycle, maddening even... as his movements became far more forceful, impassioned.. in its wake with bloodlust fueling him. His weakness that she was well aware of. So greedy, she thought wondering if he would try to fight her in that need to claim her for himself. He was like a starved man who was offered a feast.

He was lost in that blood lust and this.... Vanilla sex. If one could call this truly vanilla even though the position itself was quite traditional. This, she had to admit, was far better than she thought it would be... and yet... it was like she demanded his attention as her own monster seemed to war with pleasure and that need for control... while also tempting him further, pushing him beyond the brink of his own control. She hardly prevented for the urge of his own flesh, his own blood as her fingers found his muscular back, nails sinking into him before she dragged them down his body without mercy. She wanted to split him wide open, garnering pleasure from her own assault that was intended to bring his focus back upon her. His hiss whispered into her throat. How she only fueled him on... into sweet chaos. Relishes in it too before her own command was spoken out loud.

Her threats unknowingly were empty and yet still they held a semblance of bite. How she wished to seize him in response, even though she allows him... there would forever be that need for dominance. Her voice was like a sultry purr, hummed into his ear that lacked any true conviction. How they were almost meant to provoke rather than to actually... make him stop. Not that he would have allowed it. She wondered if some intrinsic part of both of them knew it too.

His fangs released her neck, although not without reluctance, she could feel his teeth slide free only to be replaced by his tongue to seal those puncture marks he'd made. He was all too deliberate, as though it took every ounce of his forced control. His eyes met her own, they were wild, his face alluringly blood stained with her.

Ah, the look of him was one she savoured. The beautiful teetering bring of an internal war waged across his face dripping with gore. How a part of her purred at that sight of him. He found her hand again, the one that raked into his flesh without mercy, eyeing her splintered nails that were coated in his own blood. The damage that was done to them both was enough to send sane men scattering for their religion. But this... this was their religion. Their sacred rite. The evidence of the damage that was done to him was a sign of who he belonged to. Blood coated her fingertips, the red stark upon her porcelain skin and yet blood painted them both. Normally she would be fixated upon the fact that her nails had been ruined and yet how little she cared. His pace continued to build that rush inside of her. Until... he suddenly stopped. Why did he stop? She attempted to close the distance once more and yet he pulled so far out of reach.

For a fractured second, he seemed to regain clarity as he all but eyed her hand within his. Ignoring her words for once. The moment he gained control of himself. Her cowboy seemed to gain true control over. If only for a moment. She was hanging off his next action. He was unpredictable like never before. Yet she could not take it. He could do what he wanted so long as he kept moving. Hmmm... it sounded more like a growl rather than a pensive sound of him deliberating with himself as her lover alluded to nothing.

He moved, to ensnare her hand to bring that hand to his own lips in a way that was.... Slowly seductive in that deliberate way that had oddly affected her. This was confusing. Not the sex. That control within her lover in that dominant position. How she nearly growled and yet she was quite certain it would turn into a forsaken moan. Curse him. He was supposed to fucking her, not sucking on her.... Fingers... even though it did something entirely to her that made her core clench... made her want his mouth in other places... wanted his tongue to do wicked things to her body. She ached with need. How she felt it from her fingers all the way down to into where he hovered just so out of reach... hard and not doing what he should be doing with it. She could not bear it. A sound of protest escaped her at once. Yet she is mesmerized by him... trapped in this oddly arousing...tease. It was working whatever this was. And she cursed him for it. Cursed that he made her wait, cursed that he made her crave. Cursed him for having power over her. Yet, she remained watching him her lower lip sucked into her mouth, her fangs sinking into that delicate flesh as she tried to grind her hips up into him once more and yet he seemed almost out of reach. Again. Wan began to be all she knew. How close she was to simply take it from him. Old habits died hard. After all, it would end this... delicious torture.

How vastly different her monster was in comparison to the man he'd been just prior. How her lids seemed heavy with need, every part of her seemed to turn desperate. Every nerve ending heightened. She released her fangs to savour the blood from her own lips.

Was that his response to her threat? IT was a good response and yet not enough.... Until he spoke once more... and she waited if only to satisfy her morbid curiosity of this change within her mate. She had thought she had known all of him.

But this was new. This way was all his own.

He seemed confident and controlled as he uttered those very words that were nothing short of goading. He was something else tonight. Yet it seemed odd that he would try to finally goad her. How she began to move forward as if to act out her threat but she was.... Slow.. as if lust weighed her down. Or perhaps she was calling to her lover in turn to stop her... Yet her mind so focused on that final statement. Running out of time. "I am not done with you.... yet." How her words are a sultry promise, a challenge. As if she was going to claim dominance as her gaze was focused upon that devilish grin upon his lips that he brought her hand toward, placing but a far too gentle kiss upon her hand before releasing it. Her hand returned to his back lowering to the swell of his ass as if desiring to feel the power of each thrust.

There was no time to utter another word when he was all sharp edges again, sliced into her with such force that the truck groaned. What a far contrast from the teasing sensuality as he all but took her with a renewed vigour. Her body rocked riding further up that seat before his demanding lips, pressed against her own, his tongue sliding into the depths of her mouth that accepted all he had to give. He was a man possessed, his pace increased, hitting new depths that built her to a new height. She was beginning to see what he meant by out of time. If he kept moving like that... No, she believed she could control that orgasm that was threatening to destroy her. She could hold it off. Make him go first. And make him suffer for it later. She could prolong this night until they both lost everything. Yet she was just as possessed as he was, it was like her hips tilted to aid him in her own downfall. Until he found that perfect spot, time and time again. Darcy kissed her harder, it was seeking, demanding.... dominant. One that she equalled as if craving his lack of control he unleashed upon her. His tongue shifted in her mouth and in an instant he fills her mouth with his offered blood. There was nothing else. Her mind wiped clean of her own assault and there was nothing but their hunger and lust. More she wanted more of that blood. He drained so much of hers. She arched into it.. A moan slipped free as she sucked. More. All threats turned to ash.

He was far too good at this. It should have been against the rules. Yet he had a teacher who was very thorough, one that ensured every need of hers was met. He shifted his body as his hand slipped between them. Oh no he didn't. He did not get to decide when this was done. His hand found that spot that beckoned for his expert touch, knowing just how to push her over that edge. It was too late for retribution. "Oui. Darcy." She shocked herself at the word that escaped her. Yes.. Yes.. how she urged him on. Needed him to. Her pleasure was the only thing she wanted to chase.

His hands moved in unison with his body in exquisite bliss. He knew exactly what he was doing, throwing them both off that cliff together so they could spiral out of control. She gasped against his bloodied mouth, that careful desire for control long gone, joining him in that euphoric madness. Her body began to tighten around him, limbs entwining around him as if wanting him closer as that climax was just about to possess her. In an instant, she all but tore her mouth away from his as if she had to breathe and yet it wasn't the reprieve she needed. Even though she stole that too. One hand reached for his, head, finger entangled within his hair within her fist, pulling him closer. But not with the intent to kiss. No. Risque allowed her lips to bare her daintier fangs that barely had a chance to glint in the low light before she sunk her fangs so deep into his neck as she spiralled.

She lost this battle and she didn't care.

Eyes fluttered shut as his blood filled her as she fell apart beneath him, it filled her mouth, burst down her parched throat. It set her on icy fire. There was no reason to conceal that cry of pleasure that she uttered into his wound until she finished fracturing apart. It was only when she felt herself stitch back together in a sated haze do her fangs release his throat.

"You do not fuck fair, mate." She hummed, resting her head onto the seat that cradled her in sated content. She claimed he didn't fuck nor fight fair, but then again, neither did she. She would have been disappointed at anything less.

In the quiet of that afterglow, she sighed.