Page 95 of The Duplicity of Thieves

Aedon bites the inside of my thigh, and I squirm, but he holds me still. Then he runs his tongue all the way to my cunt and slurps up the wetness, kissing my clit. My hips buck, and he kisses me again, dipping his tongue between my folds. It feels fucking amazing, and my hold on his dark tousled hair tightens. My free hand smacks the counter behind me. I’m trying to keep myself up, but the blood makes it hard to get a grip.

He takes my clit into his mouth again, sucking until I feel pain and pleasure. I moan loudly, and he lets me go. He rises, biting on the yellowed bruises he left on my hip a few days ago until I whimper. Then he moves to the trails of blood dripping from his name carved into my breast, and he licks them up. His nails trail up my sides, lightly scratching me, and I shiver with excitement.

They scrape up my back and dig into my skin, making me whimper again. He’s experimenting. We’ve had rough sex before, but this is different. This is masochistic lust.

“You like it? The pain?” he asks softly, watching for my answer.

“Yes, Aedon.”

He doesn’t release me. Instead, he drags his nails down my back. I moan again, relishing the way it slices into my core. He carefully grips the bruises, and I arch my back, grinding into him. I finally feel alive.

“Hurt me.” I like his pain. I need it. I’m begging for it. Aedon is the only person I trust to bring me to the brink of death and drag me back.

He hesitates, warring between being a good man or a very terrible one.

“Hurt. Me. Aedon,” I enunciate on his lips. I dip my mouth to his chest where my name is carved over the tattoos and the scars. I run my tongue over the wound. His scent of amber and leather fills my nose while the piercing taste of iron fills my mouth.

He growls like a beast and slams me down onto the counter. My head cracks against the marble, and I giggle. He hauls himself up and climbs over me, knocking everything to the floor. Glass shatters, mail flutters, and something metallic thuds on the tile.

He gets ready to push himself into me, and I fight him until he catches my wrists with one hand, squeezing them together so hard they might snap. I wiggle trying to slip out of his grip. The more I fight it the angrier he becomes, and I love it. I want to see Aedon angry. I want him to force me to fuck him, and I want him to hurt me when he does it. I need the pain to block out all the betrayal and loss I’m keeping at bay.

“Stop fighting me,” he growls.

“Make me,” I challenged him.

I pull my wrist free, and I slap him across the face. He’s shocked, unlike the first time that I hit him. There's a small window of opportunity where I can run, and I take advantage of it. Sliding from underneath him I fall to my knees, trying to crawl away, but he’s fast. I have nothing to hold on to. He grabs my leg and drags me backward toward him. The floor squeals where it meets my dry flesh.

Aedon grabs my hair, and he yanks me up. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

My pulse is heavy and quick. I’m fucking thrilled, I’m soaking wet, and I’m also a little scared. I’ve never pushed him this far. I laugh, deranged and deep. It’s enough confirmation for him to continue. He finds my breast and pinches my nipple until it hurts so badly that I squeak and claw at his hands.

From how much I’m fighting him, blood begins to trickle back down from the wound where I carved my name. I kick him in the chest, and he shoves me against the glass wall, straddling me and using his knees to lock me in, trapping me. He grabs my wrists and holds them together behind my back. Blood smears across the glass making it slippery, but he reinforces his hold, reaching around and wrapping his free hand around my neck, constricting my breath.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he snarls, releasing my wrists. I instinctively try to tear his hands from my neck.

Anyone could look up here and see us like this. It probably looks like he’s killing me. He grabs my ass with his free hand and smacks it. “That’s for causing a fucking scene.”

He slaps my ass again with more force. “That's for making me fucking wait three days.”

The third time is in the exact same spot as the first two. “And that is for hitting me in the fucking face.”

The sting roars on my skin. There will be ghosts of handprints, and I may not be able to sit later, but fuck, it’s so hot. He gives me back my breath.

“You fucking deserved it,” I snicker.

He shoves into me, not giving me a chance to adjust, and fucks me mercilessly. If this is what Aedon is like when he’s mildly angry, I can’t imagine when he’s pissed.

“You’re such a fucking confusing bitch. Do you know that?”

Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me.

“You fucking like it,” I growl.

“Look at me,” he demands.

His body looms over mine, slicked with sweat and blood. His hand grips my chin roughly, and he comes nose to nose with me.

“You’re mine, Josephine. You will never get away from me. If you try to run I will fucking find you. If you look sideways at another man, I will fucking kill him. Every act of defiance from you will come with a punishment. Am I clear?”

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