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“Yes,” I whispered, my legs beginning to shake in anticipation. I had fantasies of being desired so intensely that nothing could stop that need; consensually hurt and ravaged, allowed to revel in sensations that were beyond dark. But that had never been something I’d trusted another human to know.
Yet here I was, trusting a monster with it.
A monster who’d already saved my life more than once.
Leon gripped my ass with one hand, the back of my neck with the other, and brought our mouths together in a voracious kiss.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drown in him. He smacked my ass as he kissed me and I yelped into his mouth, shuddering at the sting as his sharp teeth bit my lip. I tasted iron, and he broke the kiss to lick the blood from me, forked tongue playing over my skin. I moved my hips back and forth, grinding down against him, the smack of his palm encouraging me. Every impact shot tingles up my spine and over my skull, until I was gasping and he pulled my mouth to his again, stealing away what little breath I had.
It was more than pain. It was more than pleasure. It made my body come alive. It made me ravenous. I wanted him to consume me, to take and use all of me, and to consume him in return.
His big hand squeezed around my throat, encompassing it easily. His tongue stroked over mine, tasting my mouth as the air left my lungs and only a faint feeling of floating remained. How could I drown in pleasure? How could ecstasy replace the very oxygen inside me?
He stood, lifting me with him—one hand around my throat the other looped under my ass to hold me up as my legs wrapped around his hips. The veins in his arms had turned as black as the ink of his tattoos. His irises had enlarged until the gold in his eyes was a slim ring, an eclipse of the sun in his gaze.
“Beg me to use you, Rae,” he growled, allowing me only enough air to stay conscious, only enough to smile in a daze and nod. He gave me a vicious little shake. “Words, girl. Beg me.”
“Use me...please…” My words were weak, a pitiful whimper barely squeezed out of my throat.
“You’re Hell’s little whore, aren’t you?” he said. “So eager for all the wicked things to crawl out of the dark and take you. Wicked things aren’t gentle, Raelynn.” He brought his mouth close to my ear, his words soft. “All the time you’ve spent playing in the dark—is this what you were waiting for? For some evil thing to come take you?”
He lay me down on the coffee table, the surface cool and hard beneath me as he pinned me against the wood. “I’m going to break you in every conceivable way.” He chuckled, then laughed, as if the thought of what he was going to do sparked some feral energy in him that couldn’t be contained. “I’ll make you scream for more pain. I’ll make you weep for your own destruction.”
I was scared—of course I was scared. I’d always chased fear, so I could experience it on my own terms, in exactly the ways I wanted. In fear, I found desire. In fear lived all the ancient sensations that demanded I know I wasaliveandstrugglingandfeeling.
He yanked off my pants and sweatshirt, smirking when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra and my nipples were perky as the air hit them. He straddled me, so I was sprawled beneath him on the wide table, and took my breasts in his hands, squeezing them, his claws pricking at my skin.
“Does it hurt, little doll?” He pinched my nipples beneath his fingers, rolling them just slightly. I began to pant, as every tug and squeeze sent trembles down through my abdomen. “Why did you never pierce these, hmm? You’ve had needles through your ears, your nose—did these frighten you too much?”
Watching my face, he closed his mouth over my erect nipple, flicking his tongue over the tip. My hips bucked up, pressing against him, but his free hand seized my waist and pushed me back down. He administered the same torturous stimulation to my other nipple, until I was groaning helplessly, shaking under him. His tongue swirled circles around my breast before closing over me, sucking until I squealed.
If this was sin, I’d gladly purchase my one-way ticket to Hell.
He was probing my mind again, using whatever dark power it was that allowed him to make me feel touches that weren’t there and impulses beyond my own subconscious. He was pressing me down, as if bands were slowly tightening around my wrists, ankles, and abdomen, strapping me to the table. I couldn’t see them, but my mind was certain the bounds were there. Soon I could only squirm. I couldn’t lift my arms or close my spread legs.
“What are you doing?” My voice was a whisper, heavy with lust, shaking with the nerves bubbling up in me. He raised his head, his mouth parting from its merciless torture of my nipple.
“Only what you so desperately want,” he said, and his claws traced over my cheek. “You could resist the restraints, if you wanted. It would be easy. How funny…” He hovered over me, sharp teeth close. “You’re not even trying to get away.”
His claws moved down my throat, over the tender pulse of blood in my veins, down my chest, down, down, until he came to the edge of my panties.
“You really should just stop wearing these,” he said. “I’m only going to keep ruining them.”
The panties ripped easily in his hands. My heart fluttered in my chest as a single claw circled my clit, a threat and a promise wrapped up into one cruel motion.
“Remember, little doll,” he growled, his head lowering slowly between my legs. “Saymercyif you want our play to end. But beg for me to stop and plead for your life if you want to continue.”
Every word was pushing me deeper into the cavernous bond between our imaginations, deeper into the fantasy of fear and captivity he was weaving. The fantasy that I was helpless, his fighting prey.
But that fantasy wasn’t true, even as I allowed myself to indulge in it. He was watching every breath I took, watching my pupils swell. He could smell every chemical change that went through me, he could hear my heart speed up and slow down. He knew my every reaction on an even more primal level than I did.
He’d stop at my word. I knew that. I trusted him in that.
But an ending was far from what I wanted.
Telling me to beg for my life? It aroused that deep desire for fear, my hunger for danger. “Let me go,” I whimpered. “Please…please let me go…don’t—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he gripped my face, his tone vicious. “Open your fucking mouth, now.”
