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I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
A long, serpent tongue slid past Jericho’s lips and into my mouth, tasting of bitter cinnamon and fire.All I could do was let him invade my mouth, my body too caught up in a tingling state of paralysis.
My muscles slackened, and what felt like a thousand shocks of pleasure moved through me. I shook and convulsed, panting so fast I couldn’t fill my lungs.
His skin turned a deep black, and as he pistoned in and out of my weakened and useless body, I could feel something growing inside of me. Twisting and tightening. Clawing from inside. A whispered scream grew louder. Louder. Louder. It struck like a hammer against my skull in a powerful crack of thunder. I’d heard the sound a number of times before. One so piercing, it shot through me like a bolt of lightning.
Fluids trickled down my ass, my head too caught up in the moment to care whether it was blood or arousal, but whatever it was made for an even slicker glide, as he continued to fuck me, ignoring the distress that had to have been written all over my face.
“Stop, please! Stop!”
Why wasn’t he stopping? Why did he keep going?
I was trapped within my own body. Suffocating. Drowning. The pleasure winding through me pulled on every muscle like a marionette. How could that be? How could I be terrified and aroused at the same time?
The blade fell out of my hands on a clang.
Volatile exhilaration burned in my muscles, heightening to such a level, I was certain I would ignite into flames. Every nerve ending flared, raw and vibrating.
The screaming in my head reached a deafening pitch that exploded in my ears.
Everything turned black.
* * *
“Farryn,” a deep but soft voice whispered. “Wake up. Please.”
I opened my eyes to find Jericho staring down at me, his expression twisted with agony. Confused, I looked about my surroundings, noting the tall organ pipes, the stone pillars, the scent of aged wood and something heady on the air.
Sex.
I wriggled my arms and craned my neck to see my wrists were still bound by the leather belt.
Realization trickled in.Hands shackled. The blade that sliced my dress open. Intense pleasure.
Red eye. Fangs. Terror.
Blackness.
On a gasp, I shot my gaze back to his, a tremble of fear moving through me. “You. I saw you. A monster. F-f-f-fangs and a red eye, and …”
His expression turned even more grim than before, and he pushed away from me, stumbling backward into the pew.
It occurred to me what I’d just done by confessing what I’d seen–put an even thicker wedge between us. I wished I could’ve taken the words back, to hold them in so he wouldn’t do what I suspected was coming next.
“You screamed. Screamed as if I’d hurt you.”
I sat up, resting my bound hands in my lap. “You didn’t hurt me. I swear it.”
“I could’ve. And the damned thing about it is, I have no recollection. One minute I was tearing your dress away, the next I was tearing my hand from your throat.”
“Don’t do this, okay? Please. I can’t bear the thought of something coming between us.”
“And I can’t bear the thought of strangling you to death. So, what the fuck am I supposed to do!” His voice thundered around me, bouncing off the walls, his words like a hard slap across my face. “I told you this was a bad idea. I told you to stay away from me. To keep your distance.”
“So, you’re blaming me now? For what? Because I wanted you? Wanted to be close to you?”
Brows lowering in obvious frustration, he looked away, his hand balled to a tight fist.
