Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
“I don’t know.” She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder, the move so trusting that my stomach lodges in my throat. “I want this, Rusalka. I want this freedom, this . . . joy. I just don’t know how to take it. Every time I even think of trying, I have a chorus of voices in my head yelling at me that I’m going to burn in hell. I’m not even sure I believe in hell, and yet I can’t shake the fear.”
I tell myself to be patient, to wait, to coax her out of her shell of shame in a way only time can manage, but I can’t help responding to the desperation in her tone. “I can make them go quiet.”
“I want that.”
Across the room, Zhenya moans as Inna pushes two fingers into zir while they keep sucking Danik’s cock. The sound curls through me, an invitation and more. Normally, I would be in the midst of them already, stroking and touching and riling the entire group to new heights.
Instead, I’m sitting next to a quivering human who doesn’t know how to take what she wants and offering something I have no business offering. “It’s similar to what I did in your dream. I can magically . . . smooth things over . . . if you want me to. It will be a bit like being drunk or high. Everything will feel good, and you won’t want it to stop.”
The moment Belladonna draws in a sharp breath, I know what her answer will be. “Do it.”
“Belladonna . . .” I sigh. It’s my fault for even bringing it up. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes.” She grabs my arm, her hand shaking. “Yes, please. It’s what I need.”
“First, ground rules.” I cup her cheek when she tries to turn away. “I understand the way shame feels like it’s holding you down, holding you back. But consent is nonnegotiable, little one. You won’t want to stop once I release your inhibitions, so we need to know where we have to stop for you.”
She blinks those big dark eyes at me and turns to where my friends and lovers are now fully naked and alternating between moans and giggles, the latter sound being Inna’s—they always giggle when they come. I allow the turn, allow her to see them in their glory.
Belladonna focuses back on me. “I want everything.”
“Easy to say, harder to understand.” I stroke my thumb over her cheekbone. “Tonight we’ll keep things simple enough. Penetrative sex?”
Her eyes get bigger. “Yes,” she whispers.
“Mmm.” I drag my fingertips along her jaw. I should stop for this conversation, shouldn’t be touching her at all, but I can’t seem to help myself when she leans so sweetly against my touch. “Oral sex?”
“Yes.” Belladonna quivers. “Please.”
“Kissing?”
“Yes.”
“Penetration of your mouth, your pussy, your pretty little ass?”
Her quivering becomes shaking, but she nods sharply. “All of it. Everything, Rusalka. I want everything.”
“That will cover tonight’s activities.” Even with verbal consent, I shouldn’t do this. Fool that I am, I can’t deny her. I lean in and press a soft kiss to her full lips. It’s a relatively chaste touch, one completely devoid of tongue, but I use the contact to press my power into her. It bumps up against her shame and then slides beneath and flowers inside her.
The tension bleeds out of her body instantly. She tangles her fingers in my hair and presses harder against me. “Oh.” Belladonna laughs, the sound free and light and stabbing me directly in the chest. She tilts back just enough to press her fingers to her lips. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”
I’m not a particularly violent person—there are a thousand better ways to get what you want—but seeing the wonder bloom on her face makes me want to hunt down everyone who warped her concept of pleasure and love to remove them from existence. Shame kills as certainly as a knife. It’s harder to identify—a person can keep walking around while they’re dead inside—but no less real.
She leans forward to kiss me again, but I urge her to stand. “Go play, little one. Enjoy yourself.”
She pouts, all playful disappointment. “But I want to play with you.”
Fire sprouts around me, an external response to my need to give her exactly that. I want her. Desperately. She’s beautiful and kind and far too selfless. I could teach my sweet little human to be selfish, just a little, just enough to take care of herself. To demand the pleasure she’s due.
I simply . . . don’t want it like this.
My fire flickers in her dark-brown eyes and is evident in the way she presses her thighs together, in how she licks her lips. My magic can’t create desire where there is none—my girl wants me—but, though I don’t fault her this, I don’t want her when she has to be blitzed to act on wanting me back.