Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Just a game.
Just a game.
Playing.
Faking.
So why did it feel so real?
Why did my mind fracture, and my body shatter, and everything I’d ever known tear itself into silly little pieces?
He struck a fourth time.
Fire.
Liquid, luminous fire.
Everywhere.
“Your tattoo is glowing red, little nightmare,” he grunted. “The wand looks alive. A curse just for me.”
The pain billowed and cycloned. It soaked into my blood and travelled straight to my soul. With fingers made of light and whispers made of night, it shut down my thoughts one by one. Snuffed them out. Turned them off.
I was no longer human with feelings and fears. I was pure energy and vibration.
I sank into the trance.
A fifth lick, this one tattooing my very heart.
I screamed.
I convulsed.
My insides contracted on emptiness, needing, needing, needing…
“You were made for this,” he snarled. “Made for me to mark.”
I sagged. I tensed.
The synergy between us became carnal.
His energy wrapped around mine. My energy bled out to join his.
Crowding me against the cross, he pressed his front to my blazing back. His sweaty, scorching skin plastered to mine. He must’ve ripped off his t-shirt and, good God, it felt too good. Far, far too good.
I moaned as his hand speared between my thighs, penetrating me with three thick fingers. My legs spread of their own accord, delivering myself up to him. My ass backed up, begging him.
He groaned as he grabbed my hip with his other hand, rocking me over his hand.
Stars in my eyes.
Galaxies in my heart.
“Tell me again not to touch you,” he grunted. “I dare you.”
I almost swallowed my own tongue as he pumped into me, rough and primal.
An orgasm spindled from nowhere.
So close.
So near.
Up and up and—
“I feel you.” He pressed his forehead right on the tip of my wand. “Feel your greedy pussy milking my fingers with those hot little pulses.” He bit my ear, his breath tattered. “It makes me want to fuck you so bad.”
Do it.
Yes.
Please!
“I hate you,” I groaned, falling deeper into love.
Just words at this point. Just scrambled-up lines that meant the absolute opposite.
“You hate me, huh?” With a soft, sensual chuckle, Henri removed his fingers.
I moaned as my core rippled with frustration.
I needed him to fill me.
Complete me.
A cold draft prickled down my back as he stumbled away. The warning hiss of the whip and its dangerous song slicked through the air.
Another lash cracked right on my ass.
“Ah fuck!” My hips shot forward, bruising me against the cross.
I had no words for what happened.
No explanation for how the corporeal part of me suddenly existed on a spiritual plane of sensuality. I’d touched such a metaphysical place yesterday when I’d hidden from Victor. I’d fallen into sublime quietness for only a few seconds every time I meditated, but this…
God this…
“Beg me to stop,” Henri gasped. “Tell me how much you hate me.”
I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.
Another lash.
A waspish sting.
Meditative calmness.
Intense mindfulness.
I burned alive.
Because of him.
My other half.
My missing half.
My blood turned to light as every molecule shivered for more.
“I want to do such bad things to you, Ily…” He struck again, this time on my other ass cheek.
I snapped forward against the cross again. My knees trembled. My legs threatened to give out. Another wave of hot fire cascaded down my back and into my blood.
It pushed me headfirst into a deeper realm.
An awful detonation.
It wasn’t his darkness that shoved me into pleasure but the innocence beneath his mastery. The pain tangled in his power. The vulnerability and love and kindness.
A kindness that hadn’t been eradicated despite what his father had done to him.
A commitment that came from a lifetime of needing to belong. To belong to one person. Just one. Just me.
Another lash directly on my spine.
I went completely blind as all my heat soaked into my clit.
I hovered on the edge of an orgasm.
I panted and sweated, moaned and mewled.
All I wanted was for him to finish. To fill me. Instead, I clung to our play and forced, “Fuck you.”
“Such a filthy word from your pretty little mouth.”
“Get away from me.”
“Nope.” His heavy footsteps stepped into me. The prickle of his energy coated my entire back. “I have just the thing to tame that mouth of yours.”
My hovering orgasm teased.
If he touched me, I’d fall.
I held my breath and—
With brutal hands, he flipped me to face him.
My wrists uncrossed.
Our eyes locked.
And all our games fell away.
His gaze held no light, just pitch blackness. His lips thin, temples glittering with sweat. He’d stripped to his tight navy boxer-briefs, his erection popping out.
Whatever intensity we existed in lashed us together.
I felt him.
Heard him.
You’re perfect. His eyes glowed.
“You’re drenched,” his lips murmured.
I love you, his heart whispered.
“You’re going to pay.” His mouth smiled.
I strained for him to kiss me, but he dropped to his haunches, and with swift fingers, he buckled leather straps around my ankles. His touch felt like a million needles dipped in velvet.