My fingers slid between the curves of my breasts, grazing flushed skin as I retrieved the glass vial nestled there.I pulled it free, its warmth proof it had been resting against me for far too long.Holding it beneath his wound, I watched, transfixed, as each drop of his essence fell into the vial, swirling like liquid rubies.
Something visceral stirred in me.I should have looked away and been clinical and methodical, but I wasn’t.I was entranced.I was mesmerized by the way his life bled for me willingly, as if he’d surrendered something deeper than flesh—something twisted, sacred, and utterly his.
Once I had his blood, I corked the vial and tucked it back between my breasts.My gaze drifted to Amir’s hand—his blood still trickling, dark and warm.Desire curled in my belly.Slowly, I lifted his hand to my lips, breath trembling, heart pounding, as I pressed a kiss to the wound before letting my tongue taste him.
The metallic tang of iron flooded my mouth, rich and intoxicating.His blood—hot, vital—seeped into me, igniting something deep, something raw.It spread through my veins like fire, like power, a wicked hunger unfurling in its wake.I shuddered, my entire body alight with something dark and insatiable, something heedless of consequence.
A deep, guttural sound escaped him—a growl, a warning, a surrender.His eyes burned, wild and untamed, locking onto mine with an intensity that frightened and thrilled me.It was as if an otherworldly force had taken hold of us, binding us in a feverish madness where desire and destruction were indistinguishable.
His scent—sweat, leather, raw need—wrapped around me, pulling me into his gravity like a moth to a flame.And when his lips crashed onto mine, it was violent, desperate, unrelenting.There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only hunger, only need.His mouth claimed me, his tongue tangling with mine in a battle as fierce as the fire raging between us.
I gasped into him, my hands clawing at his chest, at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more.He pushed me back against the cold stone, his hands rough and insistent, pushing my skirt higher, fingers burning against my bare skin.My hands fumbled at the laces of his breeches, trembling with urgency.The ache between my thighs was unbearable, maddening—I didn’t just want him; I needed him, like air in my lungs, like the blood that had just passed between my lips.
His body pressed against mine, hard, and hot.Through the thin barrier of clothes, I could feel him—every rigid, aching inch.My breath hitched as his hands gripped my hips, bruising, possessive, demanding.My fingers found him, wrapped around him, feeling the pulse of his need, the way it mirrored my own.
His forehead pressed against mine, his breath ragged, his control slipping like sand through his fingers.“Do you feel this?”he grated, his voice rough, guttural, laced with torment and pure, unfiltered lust.“This is what you do to me.”
Then, with a swift, commanding motion, he lifted me, his hands gripping me with bruising possession.My back hit the cold stone wall, but I barely registered it—because in the next breath, he drove into me.
A raw, animalistic groan tore from my throat.“Amir?—”
Never before had I felt so unchained, so free.Something vital and untamed had awakened inside me, something I couldn’t explain—something I didn’t want to explain.I could only surrender, wrapping my legs around him, pulling him deeper, gasping as he filled me.
“More,” I whispered, my nails raking down his back, desperate, greedy.“Don’t stop.”
A dark, approving sound rumbled from his chest, low and feral, vibrating through me like a violent storm.His fingers dug into my hips, holding me as he thrust again and again, each movement brutal and demanding.I gasped at the intensity, the way he stretched me, the way he claimed me.I felt split apart, overwhelmed—yet I still wanted more.
“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice a razor’s edge of dominance.
I did.
His eyes were ablaze, wild with something that bordered on madness, his pupils blown wide with unrelenting hunger.The flickering torchlight cast shadows over his sweat-slicked skin, over the tension rippling through every muscle in his body.He looked like a god of war, a conqueror—and I was his spoils.
And I wanted to be conquered.
His pace turned savage, relentless, each movement a savage demand that sent pleasure crashing through me like a raging tide.Every nerve in my body seared, the fire growing hotter, devouring me whole.
The world outside this moment ceased to exist.
There was no time.No morality.No reason.
Only this.Only him.Only us.
“Elizabeth,” Amir hissed before capturing my lips in a bruising, possessive kiss.His teeth scraped against my bottom lip, dragging a whimper from my throat as he owned my mouth the same way he owned my body.
“Amir,” I groaned when I came up for air, my head tilting back against the cold stone.I needed him.I needed the way he filled me, stretched me, and drove me to madness with every brutal thrust.
The intoxicating symphony of heat and desire between us was unstoppable, unbreakable.
I raked my nails down his shoulders, my fingers digging into his skin, leaving fire trails in their wake.His head snapped back, a low, guttural growl rumbling from deep in his chest.The raw, unrestrained sound sent another bolt of heat coursing through me, the kind that devoured, wrecked, ruined.
We were tangled in a maelstrom of passion—dark, desperate, delicious.Each movement pulled me deeper into the storm, into the abyss of him, where only pleasure existed.His thrusts turned merciless—faster, harder, deeper.Every stroke was a claim, a demand, a silent vow that said I was his.
And gods help me—I never wanted to belong to anyone else.
The pleasure built, winding tight, a blistering, unbearable crescendo.His name tore from my lips in a breathless, broken plea.He was ruthless, and I was helpless against the force of him, against the overwhelming pleasure that shattered me.
We unraveled together.
