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She flinched and moaned.
Everything inside me froze into predatory stillness as the first bead of ruby welled on her throat. The colour. The glisten. Her lifeforce and very essence.
Fuck.
Crushing her into my desk, I rocked my cock through her drenched folds as my mouth latched onto the droplet.
The moment her sweet, metallic, hot, hot blood soaked onto my tongue, I snapped.
She wanted to be fucked?
She just got her wish.
“Spread,” I snarled, pushing her knees as wide as they’d go.
Lying back on my desk, her hair strewn over my laptop and other junk, she presented herself to me.
Tossing the letter opener away, my eyes locked on another droplet of crimson as it welled down her skin, down and down, coming to a stop in the hollow of her collarbone.
Fuck.
Me.
Dragging her hips the final inch off the desk, I sucked in a haggard breath. “Who are you, esclave?”
Her stunning smile glinted with sharp canines. “La vôtre. Je suis à toi.” (Yours. I’m yours).
My vision shot black.
I notched inside her.
I thrust.
The sensation of her body closing hot and wet around mine made all the blackness, all the wickedness, all the perversion inside me snarl.
I wanted to break her apart as I withdrew and plunged back in.
I wanted her screaming my name in both pleasure and pain.
My mouth locked over that little droplet of blood. Cooler, less viscous, already beginning to congeal.
I lost myself to her.
Fucking her against my desk, I snatched her jaw and planted my lips over hers.
I groaned as her tongue instantly stroked mine. Fierce and snake-fast, she met me with war and violence.
The desk creaked as I turned manic.
The sounds of our flesh slapping together was a perfect melody.
Something crashed to the floor; I didn’t care.
Tess’s moans turned to animalistic grunts; I rejoiced.
My own roar built louder and louder in my belly the longer I drove myself deeper and deeper into my wife, punishing her, remembering her, eradicating any distance of the past few days.
Her breakable hands landed on my cheeks as I fucked her like I despised her. Her nails dug into my five o’clock shadow, threatening to draw my blood just like I’d drawn hers.
