Page 96 of Veil of Blood and Bone

My shadows bend around her and contour to her curves. Her chest heaves erratically, nipples already hard.

“Well?” she pushes.

“Greedy, pretty monster.” I groan. “Always strong. Fierce.”

Secrets from another life bubble up, ready to drop like pools of wax. Ready to decorate her in heat and a bite of pain if I’m careful.

I steal her air and kiss her with it. Her chin tilts, bringing her closer. I tighten my hold on her hair until she gasps into my mouth.

“I remember tasting you the first time on a battlefield,” I whisper.

We fall together, her spine pressed to the sagging cushions as I loom over her. Close enough to kiss but not to touch.

My shadows wrap around her ankles and pull her legs wider. But rather than dive into her sweetness, I restrain myself. With tendrils of darkness brushing like velvet along her ankles and calves, I stroke my way over her collarbone.

“You were so overcome with pleasure, Helene. You rode my face on a river bank, not caring who heard you scream out for me. Your bloodied fingers in my hair, working my face against your dripping core.”

My fingers trace a path across her chest and up the curve of her torso. Her ribs nip into a neat waist, the pleasing flare of her hips. Her breasts are two ripe apples and my mouth waters.

Instead of giving in, I flutter touches beneath her breasts until the sounds in her throat deepen.

“Oral on a riverbank,” she says with a groan. “Doesn’t sound like me. I hate oral sex.”

“No, you don’t.”

And I’ll kill anyone who gave it to her and soured her on the experience.

I growl against her lips.

She has to give herself over to me. I haven’t gotten her there yet. She’s too distracted by everything going on. I should be preoccupying her every thought. That’s just part of the game.

It’s one of her favorites. Our favorites.

Will she ever remember?

Shadows drape across her legs and brush along her inner thighs. I draw back, stealing a moment to stare at her.

What use are words in a connection this sacred?

It’s mindset and physicality. She has to feel the focus. I have to take her to euphoria, and she has to give herself over to it completely.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much,” I force out.

Something must always be in place to call it quits, whether it’s a bite too hard or a thrust too deep. Permission can be withdrawn.

Those are the rules in this power exchange.

Helene stares at me for a moment as my shadows brush her hair away from her head. Strands rest against the emerald of the tufted pillow like a bride stolen from her marriage bed and placed into a coffin. Gone too soon.

I square my shoulders, taking in a breath, waiting.

Eventually, she nods. “Okay.”

It’s important to bring the right energy to the game, and when my mouth goes dry, I bend until we're eye level. She angles toward me and purses her lips. The kiss gives her power. Her confidence adds a different taste to it, yet she won’t fall into a position of vulnerability and softness if I don’t offer command and presence.

When she reaches out to touch me, the shadows hold her back. I don’t let her.

“I’m in control, love, not you.”