Page 97 of Little Blue

My heart is a crazed thing inside my chest as I stare up into Ilya’s dangerous eyes. He’s peering down at me now with a beastly hunger, pumping in and out—pushing me higher and higher until—no!

He pulls his hand from between my legs, the finger coated with my wet hooks my bottom lip and he demands, an almost cruel edge cutting from his tone, “Suck.”

I don’t hesitate as I take him into my mouth, sucking just as he commanded. Tasting my desire.

Surprise flares in his eyes again, and inside, I dance with glee.

Dragging his finger from my mouth, over my lip and down my chin, he wraps his hand around my throat. Shards of his brittle control break off into the night as he thrusts his arousal into the softness of my core, a guttural groan spilling from the deep of him.

“I could take you right here.” He thinks the words are a threat. They make me shiver, but not with fear. With need. He’s on the edge. “I could claim you.” Darkness bursts from the depths of him. A sentient thing he tries to hide from me. I don’t want him to hide any part of himself. “Steal your innocence.” I want all the parts of him. “Fuck you raw.” Breath shudders from my lungs. He growls low, “Prove to you that you are mine.” His hips thrust into my core again—nothing but his pants separating us. “That no matter how many times you run, I’ll always catch you.”

My hands fly up to grip the lapels of his jacket, and Ilya tenses because I know he thinks I’m going to push him away. Fight him again. And he’ll let me. He won’t take this part of me until I ask him to. I know this like I know I love him. All the dark, gritty, terrible parts of him that somehow grasp at good for me.

I don’t push him away, though. I pull him closer. The pressure at my neck increases as I lift my head and slam my lips into his. He groans into my mouth, a raging, feral sound that I swallow.

It’s not a nice, tender kiss. It’s bruising, hungry pressure. Teeth clink, tongues tangle, breaths shared, messy. Like us.

He tears his mouth from mine, “Fuck, I could sink inside you now. You’re fucking ready.” Even as he says the words, he’s pulling away from me.

I know this is the moment. The last moment I have, to make him take me, claim me. Possess me.

His honor is catching up with the crazed demon I called to the surface when I ran from him. If I don’t act, he’ll push away, gather me into his arms, and bring me back to the house.

My fingers tighten in his jacket, refusing to let him move away from me. Both hands are planted on either side of my head now, his chest heaving as ragged breaths spill from his lungs.

I suck in the taste of him, my eyes pinned to his devilish blues as I say quietly, but firmly, “Stop threatening me, Ilya, and take me. Make me yours. Claim me.”

“Irelynn—”

“Do it,” I dare. “Fuck me raw. Show me who I belong to.”

His eyes snap wide, an animal sound tearing into the space between us even as his body stills above mine. His eyes search my face for a lie he won’t find.

I’ve made my decision. My body has swayed my heart and it’s overtaken my mind. He’s all that remains. Loving him is all that remains.

“Irelynn,” my name is a protest wound up in a plea that tumbles into the space between us before he crushes his mouth to mine again. The cold nips into my flesh as his hands work between us, frantic and unhinged. This desire is a band pulled tight. We’re seconds from the snap. From chaos.

A shiver throbs like a pulse through my body. I rebel against the cold, driven by my hunger for him as he shoves at his suit pants.

His arousal lands against me, thick and hard and so, so hot. Nerves erupt like fireworks inside my body as he pushes forward into me. He groans. It’s just an inch, but it’s enough to stretch me more than I’ve ever been stretched before. He’s—really—big.

I gasp, sucking icy air into my lungs as my boots dig into snow, pushing myself away from this invasion I sense on instinct will be brutal. It’s two months of tension, pulled tighter and tighter—and this is the snap, the backlash, and the aftermath all rolled into one climatic moment.

“No, you don’t, Little Blue.” He drops from his hands to his elbows at the side of my head, crushing his chest to mine as he twists my hair into one big, tight fist, pulling my head back. His other slides under my neck, anchoring my body into place as he drops his face into the nook of my neck. “No more running.”

I moan as he rocks his hips in and out that decadently painful inch, before he takes another. I gasp, my hands gripping his back for purchase—anything to hold onto.

“Ilya,” I cry.

“We’ve danced around this for too long.” Teeth nip my skin, a path of burning sin to the vicious kiss in which he claims my lips. “Mine.”

Anchoring me to him, kissing me with unhinged longing, he thrusts. It’s not gentle and soothing, like I always thought I wanted my first time to be. It’s not slow and careful. It’s brutal, hinging on violent—and it’s everything I know now that I need.

He tears through the thin barrier that held my innocence like he tore into my life.

Wrenching my mouth from his, I scream into the night. He roars a sound of animal pleasure as he bottoms out inside me, entirely sheathed. The sting of his invasion is sharp, but it has nothing on the violent fight my soul gives in one last attempt to avoid capture by his. It’s a futile fight, my heart has already bargained away my soul.

Rooted deep, Ilya stops moving to plunder my mouth. Only when my legs loosen around him again, my body learning the feeling of his as it fills mine, does he move again. His mouth on mine, he pulls back and thrusts in hard. I whimper a sound he devours again and again as he thrusts again and again, driving me higher and higher until I feel like I might split at the seams.

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