Page 57 of Little Blue

My eyes burn as I nod. My body is quivering again, naked under his much larger, still half-clothed, body.

I’m struck by the flash of something primal in his eyes. He demands, “Are you a virgin?”

I think about lying, but he’s clearly very, very experienced. I’m afraid if I lie, he’ll take me at my word. And take too much.

“Yes.”

Twenty-Four

Ilya

I thought I was possessive before.

I. Was. Wrong.

She’s innocent. Untouched by any man, before me.

Perfectly, beautifully, mine.

And she’ll never be touched by another man as long as she lives.

I’ve housed demons since the moment I entered this world, but they’ve never raged quite like they do now. To possess her completely.

To own her. To claim her innocence. The blood of her purity. To take her, all of her, as my own.

Her first gasps, moans, sighs and cries—all. Mine.

She’s trembling under me now. The quake of her little, pebbled nipples, brush teasing whispers across my chest as I hover above her, gazing into the depths of her eyes as though I might challenge her little warrior’s spirit to a duel for her soul.

I’d win, too. For the right to bind her soul of light to the cavernous void of my own, I am not above defeating her spirit.

I’ve never claimed to be a man of honor, but this takes the win.

She both tames and calls to my monster. I’m ready to rage and maim and claim for her, just as I’m ready to soften my touch and dig for the glimmer of honor—a speck in the void of my soul—so that I might bestow it upon the alter of her.

To worship.

Mine.

“Ilya,” she shakes her head slowly, and I realize I spoke aloud.

More firm this time, I repeat, “Mine.” And then I kiss her.

She tastes like she smells, like dessert. Sweet and addictive.

I want more.

I also want her to come undone beneath me like I’ve wanted nothing else in my life. I want to show her that I can make her crumble. That I can spark a yearning in her body that only I can satisfy.

I want her to need me.

Kissing my way down the smooth flesh of her body, I steal tastes with the tip of my tongue that have her breaths snagging in her throat. The sound is so innocent and sweet now that I know I’m the only man to ever have her like this.

“Ilya,” she moans my name as I circle her navel with my tongue. I can smell her desire for me, and I hunger to possess every drop of it.

She makes me into an animal. Driven entirely by primal need.

She can’t possibly know how much danger she’s in. How I could devour her whole.

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