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)
I gave her more.
Fuck, I gave her everything.
I jack-knifed and pounded, and the longer I took her, the deeper my mind fell.
We burned.
Not just our bodies.
But our spirits too.
We writhed together like demonic creatures.
Our hearts smoked and minds melded.
She screamed as I hit a thick, tight part of her.
She shuddered and gasped.
I kept fucking her. Over and over, driving her straight into hell.
Killing her with pleasure. Killing myself with everything I’d tried to forget and everything I didn’t want to be.
I hated that this felt so good.
I despised that her blood made me throb.
I would never forgive myself for committing violence toward the one person I loved, even as it drove me into such delicious, despicable darkness.
But in that darkness, as her whimpers became pleas, and her legs gave out—as I impaled myself deeper and deeper—we somehow became one.
Just one.
No longer my body and her body but ours.
Us.
All the good, the bad, the sick, the twisted, and the wrong.
I took her and fucked her and with no space between us, no secrets to hide, no curses to utter, light cracked in the blackness.
A transcendental light. Luminous and iridescent, soaking into my very essence, knotting me to her for eternity.
I felt her as she reached her pinnacle.
I was her as she stopped breathing and gave everything she was to that final crest of pleasure.
A gush of wetness around me. A rush of searing heat. Her body didn’t just come, it erupted, coating my pounding cock in her orgasm and shoving me face first into mine.
My climax started in my toes and shot all the way up my spine and into my heart.
We rode each other as the waves of her release consumed me. We became the same ocean where those waves crashed. The same tragic sea where sex somehow shifted from physical into profound.
I felt her in my soul.
I had no idea what was happening.
No idea how to stop it.
Stop the pull of her. The call of her.
I gasped as the first pulse of my orgasm spilled.
Blinding, blistering.
I couldn’t breathe as every synapse arrowed between my legs and exploded.
I came.
Goddammit, I came.
I filled her up.
I coated every inch.
Our shared releases oozed down her legs, making our connection sinfully slippery.
I roared as pleasure became pain, and pain became pleasure, and I couldn’t survive the intensity anymore.
It kept going.
Kept pulsing.
And when I reached the end, I collapsed against her, panting, sweating, fucking changed and completely broken.
We stayed like that for the longest moment.
Gasping and shaking.
Our breathing in sync and hearts colliding.
In the distance, Victor reached his own release, tainting this moment—this profound, crazy moment. I needed to play the part of a Master who just got his dick wet with his jewel, but for now, I was completely enslaved by her.
Nuzzling my way through her sweat-misty hair, I murmured, “Four scars for four things you now own.”
She shuddered.
“You own me, Ily. Body and mind, heart and soul. Forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
………………………….
Ily
I SIGHED AND SNUGGLED CLOSER to Henri.
Hidden beneath the blankets, tucked away from the world and cameras, we knotted each other up in arms and legs and lay still.
I’d never felt so cosy, so comfortable.
Never thought I’d find my place in the arms of someone who battled such demons and won.
His lips skated along my shoulder blade where he hugged me from behind, making my lash marks twinge.
Hug wasn’t the right word. Smothering was better. The way he held me so tightly ought to be claustrophobic, but it only granted safety.
I sighed again, sleep tugging on my eyelashes.
It’d been a long day.
After we’d finally disengaged in the snuffbox and Victor finished with Rachel, all of us were surprisingly quiet. Victor inspected the cuts Henri had given me, then snapped his fingers for Rachel to follow him.
They’d left, and we’d followed.
Henri had taken me to see Dr Belford.
She’d treated the whip welts and cuts but admitted she couldn’t clean out the sapphire dust thanks to Victor’s many rules. Instead, she’d applied a salve to speed up healing and placed a small bandage over my hip and thigh.
We’d returned to our room.
I’d expected to talk or shower or relive the most heightened sexual experience of my life. Only, Henri laid me down, applied more arnica to my lashes, then bundled me beneath the blankets and just held me.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he breathed drowsily against my skin. “I’m sorry for what I am.”
I shivered as he kissed my ear.
“You don’t owe me an apology, Hen. You saw how much I enjoyed it.” My cheeks flushed hot.
“Yes, I did see. I felt it too.” A rumbling chuckle vibrated in his chest, tickling my smarting back. “Has that…ever happened to you before?”
I knew what he meant.
The savagery of my climax.
The gush of embarrassing liquid…
For a moment, I tried to figure out a way to deny what’d happened, but he murmured, “You squirted on me, Ily.”