Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Her pulse pounded against my fingertips.
Her skittering heartrate revealed the truth.
“Does it hurt, little nightmare? Or will I find you’re secretly wet again?”
Ily looked away, colour scalding her cheeks.
Victor cursed. “Sheath your teeth, you little cunt.”
Peter didn’t reply but a gagging noise sounded as if Victor shoved his jewel’s face deeper onto his cock.
My own cock reached breaking point.
I no longer felt drunk on booze but entirely high on Ily’s ungiven surrender.
Nine drops remaining.
A mere nine little ruby tears to finish this morbid game.
And I knew exactly where I’d bleed her.
Glancing down at my nakedness, I traced my knife along the red, ugly scar above my femoral artery. Or at least, I’d thought that was where it lurked. I’d tried to find it. Tried to slice it. Tried to bleed out all over the goddamn floor.
I’d failed and left myself with a nasty reminder that I couldn’t even kill myself successfully.
For months, that’d gnawed away at me. Shamed me. Destroyed me.
A constant reminder that even though I wanted so fucking badly to be good, that was never an option for me.
But now…I’d reached the bottom of my downfall. Black clouds above me. Midnight fog around me. And I’d never breathed such sweet air, never stretched in such welcoming oblivion.
That scar was now a promise.
A vow that I’d found where I belonged.
I was home.
Looking up, I caught Ily studying my puckered scar.
In a moment of lucidity and ill-advised empathy, she whispered, “What happened?”
I grinned at the softness of her voice, the imploring hope that I’d return to her and be the jackass who thought he’d been falling for her.
I couldn’t wait to teach her that that jackass was now dead.
“I survived.” I ran my thumbs on either side of her pussy, tracing the hypersensitive, ever-so-fragile skin. “And for the first time since that day, I’m glad I did because now…I get to play with you.”
She shuddered.
Her collar clinked against the hook.
Her entire body broke out in goosebumps.
“Please, Henri.”
“Not my name anymore, little nightmare. I told you that.”
“Please—”
“Hush.” Pressing a kiss against her left upper thigh where her flawless skin mocked my scarred one, I poised the tip of my knife. “This one might hurt.”
Not giving her time to tense or slip into whatever subspace she found sanctuary in, I cut.
Not too deep—I wasn’t feeling murderous. Just deep enough to grant her a matching defection, completing our ceremony of blood and belonging.
Scarlet instantly gushed.
Hotter than before.
Redder than before.
I went to press the pipette against her dribbling crimson, but…
I reached my limit.
Stabbing my knife into the carpet by my knee and tossing the dropper over my shoulder, I threw Victor a savage grin. “I’m done playing your game, Vic. I’m going to play my own now.”
Ily jerked as I fell on her.
She cried out as my mouth locked over the bleeding wound.
Life ended.
Death paused.
The world screeched to a stop.
Every sense, every fucking synapse zeroed in on her sweet, sharp decadence.
My heart smoked as that first taste, that first delicious dangerous taste seared onto my tongue.
Fuck.
Me.
Never.
I’d never tasted anything so raw and earthy and…so bitterly carnal.
My cock speared upright with throbbing starvation.
My hands tightened around her hips, dragging her into me.
My tongue licked at her wound, forcing her to give me more, give me everything.
Ily’s cry seeped into my ears.
My mouth stung.
My body vibrated.
Lust ripped violently through me.
Yanking my lips away from her thigh, my eyes locked on her pussy.
So close.
Right there.
The stupid rules I’d made of not tasting what wasn’t mine incinerated.
My laughable boundaries shattered as I shifted on worshipping knees and claimed her.
My lips locked over her clit in one smooth domination.
“No,” she screamed. “Don’t.”
I licked her. Hard.
“No, uhhhh—” Her refusals ended with a moan that set my hair on end. The same sort of moan I’d heard in her sleep. A wanting moan. A desperate moan.
I didn’t hesitate.
My tongue slipped deeper, past her clit, hunting for that wet, dark heat.
Unlike our pantomimes and the moment when she’d writhed on my hand at dinner, she wasn’t wet.
This game hadn’t scrambled her right and wrong or made her lust.
But I didn’t care.
I’d taken her lifeforce.
She existed within me now.
We were one.
And I wanted all of her.
I wanted her weeping and writhing.
Shattering and begging.
I want in.
With both hands clamped on her hips, I ate her, devoured her.
I plunged my tongue inside and suffered a second fucking reckoning.
Her blood was sharp and stannic. Full of iron and minerals.
Her pussy was silky and sweet. Full of pleasure and promise.
The two flavours blended and turned me into an animal.
I didn’t hold back.
I fucked her with my tongue without any worries of being too hard or too vicious. I gave her brutal. I gave her cruel.
Her entire body twisted and thrashed in her binds. The insides of her thighs quivered to get away from me. The buckles held her spread. My nose nuzzled her clit as I inhaled deeply, soaking my lungs with her perfect scent.