Alistair runs his fingers up the inside of my knee, then digs his thumb into the aching muscle of my inner thigh.
I wince and recoil. He eases the pressure.
“You’re sore,” he says.
Angry that he noticed and angrier that I gave him a reaction, I scoff. “Do you like it when I flinch away from you?”
Alistair digs his thumb into my other thigh, working the muscle almost savagely. I manage to hide my reaction... barely.But when he presses both thumbs in at the same time, a groan escapes my parted lips. Damn him.
“I like making you notice me—especially when you don’t want to. I like leaving marks on you that you can’t wash off or explain.” He presses my legs wider, and I bite my lip. “And I like helping you push your limits.”
“Be honest,” I say. “You like breaking me down.”
Alistair shakes his head; his stare fixed on my legs and says, “I like that you can’t be broken.” He slips his right hand over my pussy, dragging the damp fabric to the side and working two fingers inside me. “I like that you fight me every step of the way.”
He releases the pressure on my left leg, ending the painful stretch. The relief is euphoric, and my hips rock greedily toward him, eager for more.
“I’ll always fight you,” I snarl, dropping my fingers to rub my clit.
For a second—just a second—I remember the last time I touched myself like this.
The skin of Alistair’s belly was pink from the healing sword wound. He was pale and exhausted, and I wanted to make him forget the pain. I climbed on top of him and fucked him slow and quiet while wearing that stupid T-shirt he cut holes in to accommodate my wings. The same one still hiding in my bottom drawer. The same one I can’t bring myself to throw away.
It scared the shit out of me then, but remembering now hurts.
Part of me wishes that had been the last time. That he was the one who stayed broken and soft, instead of transferring that vulnerability to me and using it to tear me apart.
Alistair watches me touch myself, transfixed by the sight, then slaps my wrist away. “Lean back on your hands,” he orders.
I narrow my eyes and lean forward instead, daring him to boss me around again.
His eyes flash red, and the tips of his fangs peek past his lowerlip as he smiles. “If you need me to stop or slow down, all you have to do is tell me.”
“I won’t,” I assure him, my words clipped.
He shoves me flat on the crate, his hand pressing against my chest too quickly for my tired muscles to combat. I buckle. My back aches from the punches I took during fight night.
“Arch,” Alistair demands, pressing his lips to my clit before I can kick him in the face.
His tongue lashes me, driving my arousal to a near-painful level in seconds. I’m right on the edge, two licks away from breaking when he stops. “Arch your fucking back, Celine, or I’ll stop right now.”
I ignore him and grind my pussy against his face.
He smiles against me—I can feel it—but his tongue stays stubbornly behind his lips. Dammit, I don’t want to arch. My abs are the sorest muscles on my body. Leaning back while supporting my own weight will be excruciating.
“If you give me a little arch, angel, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget you’re sore.” Alistair punctuates the sentence with a soft kiss to my inner thigh, and the combination wrecks me.
Holding my breath, I brace my shoulders on the crate and arch my back. Pain shoots through every muscle in my abdomen until I’m trembling from the effort.
Alistair pushes my bodysuit to the side and curls his fingers inside me again, bringing his other hand up to support my lower back. “That’s good,” he whispers. “You’re doing amazing, angel. Give me a little more.”
Maybe if I were fighting and my life depended on it, I could make it happen, but my body still trusts Alistair. It doesn’t think we’re in danger, and all it wants to do is curl up in his arms and rest.
“Ali, I can’t,” I sputter, tears burning the backs of my eyes.Immediately, the ceiling blurs, and I find myself lifted, spun, and dropped directly in his lap.
Limp, I barely notice the aches anymore. His brutal stretches have stirred up tension of a different kind.
I lick his neck and he trembles. Frantic, Alistair drops his pants to his ankles, frees his dick, and shoves me down on it until we both groan.
