Page 50 of Pride: Kneel Before None

A sharper thrust this time, emphasizing my dwindling patience.

With half-lidded eyes, she looked up at me with an expression that I’d never forget for the rest of eternity.

“You do. You own my pussy, Ace.”

The admission barely finished leaving her lips before I crashed mine down on hers. Hunger and desire combined into something insatiable as I devoured her.

Next lesson?

Knights of Hell don’t just fuck, they conquer.

CHAPTER 16

The searing pain of a stretch I hadn’t been prepared for turned into something more akin to sparks of a flame I didn’t know existed. He filled me in places I didn’t know were empty. It wasn’t just the physical. It was a level beyond that, warmth spreading through my body, carried by lightning bursts of pleasure.

Ace may have been a possessive bastard when it came to me, but right now something possessed him. The compulsion drove his hips, his cock slamming into me with bruising force. He didn’t slow, he didn’t gentle, he just claimed.

He fucked.

The sounds torn from somewhere in my throat should have been embarrassing but somehow weren’t.

“Ace! Fuck, it’s—it’s—” Couldn’t finish. The thought lost into the ether of ecstasy.

“Fucking take it, Eve,” he grunted. “Take what’s been waiting for you.”

His hand grabbed my thigh, the one with his mark, and lifted it until my knee was up against my ribs. The new position opened up an invisible path inside me, a secret route only he knew how to get to, granting him VIP access to some sacred place. His cock hammered deeper, the pointed tip of him seeking to strike down a locked door inside me. And fuck if I didn’t want him to.

Heat built between our bodies, slicking over our skin, soaking the sheets.

He swallowed down gasps and unapologetically continued to buck into me. My own hips sought him out, something stirring inside me that I couldn’t put a name to.

He didn’t even flinch as my nails drew angry red lines over his pectoral muscles. I needed an anchor, something to ground me when I felt like pleasure could rip me from this existence and into another.

“A-Ace,” I rasped his name.

My lips parted again to beg? Scream? I had no idea anymore. Instead of sound coming out, the noises died in my throat when his hand clamped down around it. Not squeezing hard enough to cut off air, but a firm reminder of who his Little Spade belonged to.

Staring up at him, red hurricanes churned within the liquid jade of his eyes. Control was a luxury that even he struggled to afford in that moment, not that he’d admit it.

His fingers dug into the sensitive skin of my thigh with disregard for the bruises that would show up tomorrow.

Something inside me felt fragile in the way that shadows were easily vanquished when exposed by the break of dawn. My whole body trembled with the effort to keep a steady hold on solid ground when all I could feel was the crackle of pressure.

Ace’s body must have felt it too, whatever ‘it’ was. His movements stuttered, the smooth movements turning wild with desperation. When he dipped his head to drag his mouth along my neck, the hand on my throat slid up to cup my jaw. Turning my head, he exposed the column of my neck and the frantic pulse just beneath the surface.

“Your cunt was made for my fucking cock. You’re fucking choking my dick. Tell me whose cock is ruining you, Eve. I want to hear you say it. Scream it for me.”

His demands were rough, spoken with an intensity that bordered on insanity. His mouth descending on my flesh, he licked a stripe up the hollow of my throat.

The buildup grew increasingly overwhelming, and I couldn’t hold back another moment. Letting go felt like breaking, free-falling into a place that brought both relief and terror that I might not ever recover from.

It was like a mirror of my former self shattered under whatever he unlocked inside me. Shards of various reflections of who I thought I was carried bits of me that multiplied who I actually was instead of breaking my identity.

Wordless screams filled the air until I made myself hoarse. My hips jerked against him, needing to feel the ridges of his cock bury deeper into me. There was nothing graceful about my fall, but it was raw and honest.

“Barnabel! Shit, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop now, don’t stop ever.” The requests were illogical, I knew they were, but I needed to demand him now anyway.

He didn’t stop. He continued to use his cock to keep me afloat in a hazy state of bliss. There was something else about the shifting sensations in me that I found unexpected. Fatigue melted into something stronger, something energizing.