Muerte (Stygian Isles #1) Read Online Natalie Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark Tags Authors: Series: Stygian Isles Series by Natalie Bennett
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
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I could fight him, tell him exactly what I thought of his Isle and its inhabitants and their sadistic, bloody rituals while pathetically trying to get away. But again, I knew to pick my battles, and this wasn’t one I would come out on top in. Not yet.

“Just this once,” I replied with a shaky exhale, refusing to fully give him all he wanted.

“I prefer always, but I’ll compromise tonight.” He leaned down and captured my mouth in a dominating kiss. His tongue teased the seam of my lips, and the second I granted him access he rendered me breathless, one hand slipping between our bodies.

His touch was teasing at first, alternating between barely there and just enough to make me hot and wet. I moaned softly when two of his fingers finally slid inside me, my lingering soreness a dull ache.

He broke the kiss and pulled away, watching closely as his fingers moved in and out of me. He pushed deeper, a sound of approval slipping from him when I arched into his hand with another moan. When he abruptly pulled away, I was left confused and wanting more.

“Be patient, deliciae. I’ll give us both what we need.”

Arousal slipped from between my legs, the light from the fire illuminating everything. My face heated as he looked down at me, taking it all in as if committing this vision to memory.

“Fucking beautiful.” He pressed the serrated edge of the knife against my left thigh, carefully rotating it as he glided along my skin. Still not enough to cut, but I could feel the warmth of the metal and the prickling of its blade. He continued across my navel, slowly moving the blade higher, watching me intently.

My breath caught as he circled my left breast so tightly the knife’s tip rubbed against it. I bit back a moan when he got to the right and did the same thing. He brought the blade higher, teasing my throat as his other hand went back between my legs.

With light teasing motions, he began to circle my clit with his fingers. I moaned softly, squeezing my legs closed when he applied more pressure to my throat.

He slipped two fingers inside me again and curled them upward, hitting a spot of pleasure I’d never been able to find, pressing the pad of his thumb to my clit at the same time. He began to rock in and out with a skilled deftness, keeping the blade against my flesh.

“Do you like that?”

The knife pressed down harder, nicking my flesh hard enough I felt a trickle of blood.

“Yes, yes,” I repeated on a breathy moan, feeling my eyes begin to water.

“I could so easily slice open your pretty little throat.” He rocked harder inside me when I tried to respond. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

“N-no,” I breathed, or at least I thought I did, grabbing hold of his shoulder to anchor myself.

“You’d look so beautiful, bleeding out while I fuck you. Like art.”

He was so goddamn sick.

But at that moment, I was no better.

I closed my eyes, the pleasure in my core becoming too much. He abruptly pulled his fingers out of me. I opened my eyes and watched as he wiped them on the blade of the knife, coating the metal in my arousal.

“Clean it off,” he commanded, bringing the blade to my lips. I obeyed, careful not to slice open my tongue. I was sweeter than I would’ve thought.

“Good girl,” he praised before sucking his fingers into his mouth, holding my stare when he removed them. “Never tasted anything better. I need more.” He began to toy with me again, making his way back down my body with the blade.

By the time he reached my right thigh and stopped at the juncture where it met my pussy, I was bleeding in three different places, distracted enough that I didn’t brace before he made the first real slice. I jerked and failed to withhold a cry.

The knife was still slightly warm from the fire, the remaining heat traveling through the metal, intensifying the experience. I felt the distinct drag of resistance against skin as it split apart to shape the first letter of his name. The sensation was painfully raw and insanely pleasurable. I shut my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, biting back a whimper as he began to tease me again.

“That’s it,” he soothed, adding more pressure to my clit. By the time he reached the fourth letter, I was breathing noticeably heavier—practically panting. Blood was running down my thigh and dripping onto the rug beneath us.

At the sixth, I didn’t recognize myself. I was so wet I felt as if I were going insane, yet tears streamed down my face from the pain.

The more I reacted, the rougher he got. He pressed the tip of the knife deeper into my skin, his movements harsher. I hoped he knew what he was doing and didn’t kill me, but for some stupid, foolish reason, I trusted he wouldn’t.



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