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I retrieve my fingers, rubbing the juices before folding my lips around them to taste. Damn me to hell, she tastes like a dark muse, like dark spirits and unending sadness, melancholic dreams, and beautiful nightmares. I taste devastation, purity, and passion. And wisteria growing upon sacred sepulchers.
Time to rouse this Butterfly.
While I slowly worshiped every inch of Psyche, I grip Aradia’s throat, crush my lips to her, open her mouth, and pour my power down her throat to wake her.
She opens her eyes. Freezes. Every muscle in her body locks up with fear. And the little minx has the audacity to fucking scream into my mouth!
9
“I’m not coming out until he comes back!”
ARADIA
“Holy fucking ghost cannoli!” I shriek the second the stranger breaks from the kiss.
I can’t see him—any of him, but I don’t care. The moment he places a slit of a gap between us, I roll to the side and scramble off the bed as quickly as my legs can take me.
“Get away from me!” I yell, knocking into the table and moaning from the impact.
“Be still.”
I yelp from the sudden voice and his warm breath at the back of my neck. This time, he doesn’t let me run.
Less than a second later, my back is pressed against the cold window, and he’s wrestled my hands above my head. I gulp. Fear knifes through me, twisting all my nerves.
I can feel his heavy breath on my face. Smell roses casting a sweet fragrance all around me. I can see the outline of his body,how he’s a head taller than me, if not more. His body is a carved statue of slabbed muscles, far stronger than me. And dominant, masculine energy. Not to mention how those lips were pressed to mine, velvet-soft and full, sensual, and his tongue like an instrument of lust-destruction.
And still, I don’t care. Because there are no horns, no stony skin, no gargoyle features, no wings. No possessive ancient beast with the exquisite black abyss gazing back at me. A monster who transcends auras. And crushes my soul with one dark kiss.
But this man…his aura is fifty shades of fucking red! Like he doesn’t just have lust and desire, but he defines them, possessing every form. His kiss woke me. It was strange and beautiful but violent and carnal like he was ready to destroy me.
It was nothing like my dream, my vision in the dungeon. Similar, yet so different.
I smell ancient incense and ghostly blooms. And feel his intense energy as his thumbs bite my wrists, and he presses himself against me. I hiss when those lips touch my cheek.
The monster kissed me, consuming me and consumed by me. A kiss of eternity in a moment. And in that moment, I tasted need and want to claim me and keep me forever. He didn’t simply kiss. He worshiped with a sacred intimacy, soul to soul. He summoned me, and I came. He commanded me—I responded. I fell to my knees from that kiss. He marked me and owned me. A beautiful damned monster seeking salvation.
This man…he’s nothing like my monster! He’s sheer lust and hunger, chemistry and muscles, hot blood and…
“Oh, sweet spirits,” I whimper as he grinds against me, and I feel the evidence of that lust, knowing it’s larger and thicker and longer than any dildo I’ve ever seen, much less experienced. That thing between his legs is a fucking beast!
“Yours is quite sweet indeed, little one.” His teeth scrape along my neck before his hot tongue flicks the skin. “Now, be still, so I may feast and satisfy that wet ache between your legs.”
Tears burn in my throat as those seductive lips trace my jaw. He’s nibbling, sampling. No doubt that he’s good at this, a hard and skilled lover. And I don’t need to see him to know he’s beautiful. Probably the most beautiful man I’ve never seen.
But this is just skin to skin, flesh to flesh, body to body.
He wants to rock and wreck all three. He just wants to fuck my body, use me in the most superficial of ways, and get rid of me. All lust and no emotion. Hunger without the happiness or hate.
I want…the monster who will shatter my soul.
Not this…beautiful man who will feel nothing but the pumping and release of his cock when he fucks me. Fucks my body. Not my heart. Not my soul.
So, when he captures my mouth again, overpowering me with a new kiss that spreads my heat, I fully intend to stop it before it can reach my pussy and play fucking tricks with my mind.
Man, god, monster, gargoyle, they’re still all the same in one strategic place. And his place is a blaring hard and enormous target.
Tilting my head at an angle to give him more, opening my mouth wider to kiss him back and break down his defenses, I hold my breath as his tongue clashes with mine.
