Page 96 of Little Blue

“Ilya—” I gasp, because I’m so wet right now, my arousal is dripping between my thighs.

“Is that why you ran from me, Little Blue? Because you had to know that was what would happen when I caught you. You had to know that I’d punish you.”

Knowing it’ll drive him wild; I angle my head to the side until my lips are a breath away from his. And then, surprising him, I crush my mouth to his. He returns the kiss with a violent one of his own that I break with a punishing bite to his lower lip.

His blue eyes, with that enchanting ring of dark, flash under cool moonlight as he thumbs the lip I bit, his tongue sliding out to soothe the assault. I didn’t break skin, but I surprised him all the same.

Delight and trepidation war inside me.

“Oh, Little Blue,” he drawls in a low voice that would terrify me if I weren’t so turned on. “I’ve warned you not to push me.”

I want to push you.

I want to shove you over the cliffside and fall with you into the abyss.

There’s no coming back from this. There’s no crawling out of this place he’s forced us both to. My heart is in this now, forever stolen.

It’s my turn to cry out in surprise as he shoves me forward, away from him. My hands fall into the snow again as I catch myself, the cut of ice crystals into my palms sharp and painful, before my mind is pulled away from that pain to a new and surprising assault. Ilya’s palm falls sharply against the thin blue satin that covers my ass, the crack of his punishment echoing in the silent forest that swallows the small scream that tears from my lips.

Another crack sounds a moment before a low growl of warning rumbles from the trees. I crane my neck to see Maleficent watching us. I realize then that she will protect me from him, if it comes to it.

“Sit,” I command, eyes locked on her. She obeys.

“Even my dog obeys you.” Another crack against my ass has a moan tearing free. “You’ve taken everything. My dogs. My heart. My soul.”

“I’ve taken everything?” I’m astonished. He’s insane with delusion if he thinks that. “You stole me!”

“I’m yours. Apparently, I’ve done a bad job of showing you that you are mine.” His hands gather my gown at my thighs. He shoves the hard swell of his arousal into my ass, demanding, “Do you feel this?”

Oh, I feel it. But I taunt, “Feel what?”

One second, I’m on my hands and knees in the snow. The next, he’s flipped me on my back. At least I’m now mostly sprawled on my fallen jacket, and snow isn’t biting into the tender flesh on my back that my gown has left exposed.

My eyes snap to him, and my breath stalls in my lungs. It’s the first time I’ve seen his face since I took off running. He’s agonizingly beautiful, his dark emotion raw in the shine of his brilliant eyes. His hair is mussed from the run, his broad chest heaving. The ink from his tattoo’s peeks from the collar of his shirt where a couple buttons have popped loose.

He looks like a god of war come to claim his prize. There’s something wild in the depths of his eyes. Something that ignites a fire deep within the core of me, the flames wild and uncontrolled and demanding. It’s a fire only he can sate.

I whimper.

His lips curl into a grin that can be described only as devilish.

I return his grin as I lift my foot and slam it into his chest. He likes this, the fight. The forbidden push and pull. This dark dance we’ve crafted.

The sound of his surprised breath delights me a moment before he grips my ankle in one hand. I lift the other and he catches it before I can connect. I realize the predicament I’ve gotten myself into when he flings my legs wide, shoving his body between them.

My gown tumbles to my waist, exposing me to him. His eyes flash with surprised heat, a strike of lightning in the icy blue to sizzle the shadows that dance around his demons. A ravenous, hungry groan bubbles from the depths of him as his eyes drop to the core of me. I know what he’s seeing. Glistening wet coats my thighs, dripping from me. To avoid lines in my dress, I forewent my panties.

“Hell.” His hands find my thighs, fingers biting into flesh, forcing them wider still.

I shiver now under the darkness of his yearning glare, and the bitter bite of the cold.

“Look at you.” His eyes lift from between my legs to my breasts that spill from the gown with every burst of breath. “The little doe who tried to run.” His hand slides from my thigh to my core. My body jerks when he makes contact. “Caught by the hunter.” His voice is soft now, but it’s deceiving. I can hear the undercurrents of anger, just waiting to pull me into the rapids. His finger slides into my wet. He hisses as I moan. “The things I could do to you.”

He sinks his finger inside, just an inch, maybe two. But my body trembles around him, aching for more.

“Fuck.” His curse sounds on the wings of a dark prayer. “You’re so wet, Blue.”

He plants one hand into the jacket beside my head, his finger stroking in and out of me now, driving me wild with want. With need.

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