Page 152 of Shattered Jewel

But she’s looking now.

“And if I prove you have every reason to fear me?” I challenge darkly, every muscle in my body turning into thin, taut sinew ready to snap.

“Do your worst,” she dares with a defiant chin tilt, although her voice wavers just slightly.

I immerse myself in the intoxicating scent of her, spice and honey, the scent that’s been driving me to insanity since the day she first walked into my life.

I close my eyes, pressing my forehead against hers in a rare moment of surrender. Her pulse quickens under my hands, warm and alive.

Then, In one single arc, I spin her around and pin her against the desk, a monitor crashing against the floor and cracking the screen, its picture turning into flashing, pixelated colors.

Elara doesn’t struggle or try to break free. Her hands snake up the clasp around my neck, pulling me closer until my teeth snag her lower lip until my taste buds burst with her blood.

“Still unafraid?” I question, running my tongue along my teeth.

She’s silent for a second. Then—”Always.”

I descend onto her lips with all the brutality that has gnawed at my soul. Elara returns my fervor with surprising strength. Our bodies collide, fight, struggle, and eventually find a rhythm only star-crossed lovers understand.

Elara’s moans fuel the poison burning inside me. I grip her hair, pulling her head back so she can watch me grind against her. Elara bites down on her lower lip, leaving bruise over my bite-mark, and I nearly cum on the spot.

I slide a hand up her thigh, teasing her clit through the thin fabric of her shorts and eliciting a sharp gasp from deep within her throat. Her inner walls clench around my fingers once I edge around her clothes and stroke her closer toward orgasm—but I can’t give in yet.

With one last forceful push into her wet heat, I pull out abruptly, leaving both of us panting heavily. Elara’s eyes burn with unshed tears, but also desire, pleading for more punishment—for release from this tormented lust that consumes us both.

“Please,” she says between ragged breaths. “I beg you … fuck me harder.”

Without warning, I lift her and slam her onto the desk, keyboards, towers, and monitors crashing to the ground as I pin her down with a firm hand on her neck, the other ripping away her shorts and undergarments.

Her legs spread instinctively and I position myself over her trembling body. She arches into me. Her fingers claw at my back in a desperate attempt for contact, loosening my bandages until the blood-soaked gauze covers her chest instead of mine, exposing me at my most raw, my ugliest self.

I thrust in, all the way to my hilt.

Her welcoming heat envelopes me, robbing me of any lingering sanity I may have clung onto.

Elara’s screams reverberate, a blend of shock at how fast I’ve stretched her and unadulterated pleasure.

I can’t help but match her cries with my own throaty grunts as I drive into her with unrestrained force. She grips the edge of the desk as if she’s clinging onto her very existence—each time I thrust, she pushes back.

“Kaspian...” she breathes out, her voice coming out in shuddering gasps as she wraps her legs around my waist.

My calloused hands grasp her hips tightly as I pull out and slam back into her, each thrust harder than the last.

Elara whimpers slightly, but it’s not out of pain. No, it’s pleasure that has her tossing her head back and gripping my shoulders with white knuckles.

I kiss her wildly, sucking on her bruised, cut, swollen lips. I pull away so my tongue can lick along the column of her neck, tasting the salty beads of sweat dotting her skin. She squirms beneath me, panting, writhing, and it only drives me deeper inside.

“Say you want more,” I demand between grunts.

“Yes,” she sobs.

There is a sick satisfaction in knowing that she wants more of my carnal hunger. A vindication that I have succeeded in marking her as mine. I withdraw and surge deep within her, rewarded by her cries, her whimpers, and the way her eyes roll back in pure electric pleasure.

I press my forehead against hers as I continue to find home inside her. Elara’s nails rake against my back, drawing blood that trickles down my spine. She watches every expression cross my face; each wince, each clench of jaw that marks moments where control slips from me, and each hiss through my teeth when I plunge deeper into her.

Her hand wraps around my hilt and moves rhythmically along with our bodies’ forceful collision. Her thumb brushes over my tip just as I pull out and crash into her, making both of us groan aloud.

My teeth find her bare shoulder where I bite down hard enough to make her shout, but the taste of her skin drives my primal need.

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