Page 97 of The Cannibal

But no one could deny that she was free.

I took a step forward, letting her lean farther over the edge.

She looked at me through her lashes, a special kind of thrill in her eyes.

“Do it,” she breathed, “let go.”

“Not a chance,” I said. “Should I be concerned that this is the second time I’ve caught you teetering on the edge of great heights?”

“The greatest of heights I’ve yet to reach.”

“And if I can’t catch you?”

“I’ll catch myself.” She stared straight up at the sky. “What is having a heart that beats if you cannot taste the blood on your tongue every now and again?”

“How about we use it to taste something else?” I jolted her, as if to drop her.

Her breath hitched. That was enough for the blood sugar to deplete, and she looked a bit pale. The adrenaline was wearing off, but the wildfire in her spirit was strong. She was like the seventh muse ready to meet her fate.

With care, I pulled her from the edge of the cliff, and she sank to her knees before me. She slumped, hands supinated on her lap.

I used the tip of the rifle to tip her chin up.

There was a darkness to her eyes, hungry. Not just the blood filling them, but the way I couldn’t fit a pin through the iris made my entire body chill. I dropped the barrel, letting it hang at my side by the strap.

I tucked her hair behind her ear, then grabbed a fistful for myself, tugging her head forward.

“Truce, then?” I cocked my head.

“I’m caught, not dead.”

“Cheeky.” The word accompanied by a sarcastic smile. “How will you get yourself out of this one, then? Cliff jumping didn’t work, neither did assault by branch or running.”

“There are limitless ways of escape if you know your stalker well.”

“Do you?” I couldn’t hide my amusement. “Know me?”

She leaned farther forward without breaking eye contact, her hands smoothing up the shaft of my boot, then my legs and hips. She tipped her head to rest her cheek beside my cock.

“Biblically,” she answered. “I could read you like a hymn.”

I tipped my hips forward, marveling at such a view.

My deadly, dearly beloved shadow on her knees, in my grip, and no way out. God, I hope she hurts me, just a little bit.

She slipped her thumb through the belt buckle loop, pulling the tail out before loosening it with a tug. I suppose she had experience from girthing her own saddle, she knew her way around some leather by now.

The fingers crawled, hooking on my pants as she opened them enough to pull out my cock. The chill over the sensitive skin straightened my posture faster than any crack of a switch.

She opened her mouth, the warmth of her lips encompassing the tip. She pressed her tongue against it. The wetness only made the chill of the wind more biting. My cock twitched involuntarily in her mouth. Her eyes fluttering up to me, she trailed her tongue down the shaft before leaving a gentle kiss at the base. It was a sweet language, sensual and intimate.

When she opened her mouth again, her fangs were bared.

My throat dried as I swallowed, and she put my cock back in her mouth. All I could think about were those sharp needles dragging along each side of my member. One flinch and it was over.

Even with the very real fear of her biting down and ending it here, the feeling of the tip reaching the warm, inviting back of her throat was enough to make me drip.

She sucked hard, swallowing as the tip went all the way in.