Page 73 of Shattered Vows

A full body shiver works its way down my spine as he steps over to me. When he reaches me, he grips me by the nape and roughly draws me in for a kiss. His other hand slips under one of the slits on my dress and pushes past my thong, delving into my folds. His fingers coast over my clit, and a needy noise slips into his mouth that causes him to hum.

When he pulls away from the kiss, he strips off my panties, takes my hand, and walks me over to the swing. Kol turns me so my back is facing the swing, and with two large hands around my waist, he lifts me and gently sets me so one strap rests across my upper back and the other rests in the middle of my ass.

It takes me a moment to get used to the sensation. But all thoughts of that go out the window when I notice a few people have trickled into the room. My insides clench at the knowledge of our observers.

Kol pays them no attention. He adjusts a couple of straps so that I’m in more of a seated position, and my legs naturally fall open.

“Hold on up here.” He guides my hands above me and wraps my fingers around the handles, adjusting the length of the straps so that my elbows are slightly bent. His concerned gaze meets mine. “You good?”

I smile and nod, appreciating him checking in with me.

As soon as I’ve nodded, his demeanor changes, like flipping a switch. He’s more rigid, his pupils bleeding lust out of his irises. Kol yanks both pieces of fabric currently hanging down between my legs up and to the side so that I’m totally exposed. The green fabric drapes on either side of my hips.

Kol licks his lips before meeting my eyes again. He leans in so that only I can hear him over the music. “I’ll be right back. Let them enjoy gazing at this little bit of perfection, knowing they will never have it.”

He slides the fabric over my breasts to the side and steps away from me. I look in the mirror to my left and see that he went to the black dresser. He opens one of the drawers, and I look away, back at our observers. More people have joined, maybe six or seven, an even mix of men and women.

Kol pulls something from the drawer, but I can’t see what it is until he steps back in front of me. The dim lights flicker along the sharp edge of the knife in his hand.

My eyes widen and panic causes my heart to beat even harder.

“Trust me?”

I swallow and stare at the sharp tip of the knife for a beat, then I nod. I do trust him. I trust that whatever that knife is for, it’s all in the name of pleasure. No part of me believes that Kol would cause me pain just for the hell of it.

My nod satisfies him. He brings the knife to his mouth and clutches the dull side between his teeth while he strips off his overcoat, vest, and shirt, leaving him in just his pants where his large bulge presses against the fabric.

He steps forward and slowly drags the knife down my body, using the dull side, starting at my collarbone. When he reaches my chest, the cold metal kisses my nipple. I suck in a breath, watching while it travels along the curve of my breast down to my belly button. My breathing is shallow, and anticipation thrums through my veins. He drags it farther down, over my mound, until he reaches my inner thigh. So quickly it takes me a minute to even figure out what happened, he nicks my inner thigh with the knife.

Blood pools there, leaving the spot burning. Not a lot, but enough so I’m aware of it.

Kol lifts his lion’s mask to rest on top of his head, leaning in, and closes his mouth over the wound, sucking the blood. It’s like a direct pull on my clit.

I moan, arching my back and causing the swing to move. He grips the straps and tugs me forward, swirling his tongue, tasting my life’s essence. His eyes meet mine as if he’s checking in on me, and I smile at him in pleasure. With every flick of his tongue, the pressure builds.

My moan echoes through the room above the steady beat of the music.

Movement behind Kol gains my attention, and I look over to see some of the men have their dicks out, stroking them. My insides clench.

Kol repeats the gash on my other inner thigh, sucking again. When he finally lowers himself to his knees between my thighs, there’s still blood on his tongue. He uses the swing to pull me closer and lap on my pussy.

The moment his tongue skims my entrance, I buck, savoring the feeling but wanting, needing more. He makes quick work of bringing me to the edge, then he pulls back and looks at me, stark need in his amber eyes.

“Do you get off on all these men and women watching, wanting what’s mine, knowing they’ll never get a taste?”

The possession in his words speaks to some dark part of my soul. “Yes.”

“How many times should I make you come while they watch?” He latches onto my clit with his mouth.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. All I can do is moan and writhe, a needy piece of flesh with no thoughts.

I watch in the mirror to the side of us and groan at the image of him kneeling before me, ravenously delivering me pleasure with his mouth. When I look up at the reflection of us below, my hands grip the handles even tighter. It’s so erotic to bear witness to this in the same way that everyone else in the room is.

Kol pulls his mouth from me and watches me as he pushes two fingers inside. “Who owns this pussy, Rapsody?” I cry out when he curves his fingers and presses on my G-spot. “Who owns it, sweetheart?”

I still can’t find the words to respond, and he withdraws his fingers from me and pulls the mask back down over his face.

“You own it!”

---