Page 65 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

“I am thinking of things that do not require talking,” I whispered against his ear. A shudder ran through him, and his erection grew impossibly larger. I grabbed onto his chin, tilting his face down to my own. His eyes were burning, a blue flame of desire.

Once more I brought my face to his, this time our lips brushing together. Closing my eyes, I took in one last breath.

“Such as this,” I rasped. And then I brought the meat I had snagged earlier between us, ripping a piece off with my teeth, before backing away with a smirk.

Bellamy’s eyes bore into me, his stunned expression quickly morphing into one of need. He launched himself towards me, grabbing the nape of my neck and pressing his body into mine until my back was against the dewy grass. Gasping for air, I looked up at him with wide eyes.

Moments ago, I had told him I would never be beneath him, and yet, I did not think I would let him move off if he tried. His tongue darted out, wetting those tempting lips. I could feel the cool bite of the many rings on his fingers against my skin, and somehow it was a temptation rather than a discomfort.

Over and over again I reminded myself that he was the enemy. I told myself that he had kidnapped me, lied to me, betrayed me.

He was evil.

He was wretched.

He was The Elemental, the demon prince.

He was…so beautiful.

“Tell me to kiss you. Tell me you want this—that you want me. Give yourself to me, Princess,” he demanded, fist tightening in the hair at the nape of my neck.

I swallowed, struggling to get the food down with the lump in my throat. Somehow the nausea had subsided, though a part of me wished it would return and act as an excuse. I would not, could not, give in to him.

He ground his hips into me, likely annoyed by my reluctance, that bulge creating a delicious friction against the wetness between my thighs.

Gods, if I did not stop this now, then I was doomed. I pressed my hands to his chest, my breath coming in strained pants. Bellamy stilled, waiting for me to push him off. Waiting for the rejection he expected from me.

I pictured the last time I was touched, kissed, held. None of them were joyous, in fact the memory brought pain. Sterling had been the last to taste my lips, and I had not wanted it. Perhaps he would always haunt my dreams, but I did not have to let him have that ownership of me. To be my last.

Acknowledging that allowed me to let go of the anger and betrayal I felt towards Bellamy, at least for the moment. Without those negative feelings, there was nothing stopping me. So I did something I had promised myself I would not do. I gave in.

My hands fisted the demon’s cloak, pulling him down and crashing his lips onto my own. At first he did not return the kiss, though he also did not make a move to back away. Aggravated by his sudden hesitation, I wrapped my arms around his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, eliciting a husky growl from him.

Then he was everywhere. His tongue, his hips, his chest, every part of him touching every part of me to the point that I was no longer sure where he ended and I began. I struggled my way free of the boots that I had, thankfully, tied loosely. In response to my wiggling, his free hand moved to my own, bringing it above my head and securing it there. The one pressed against the nape of my neck followed suit, his thighs trapping my legs. I was left unable to move, and enjoying every second of it.

Bellamy broke the kiss, tracing his way down my throat, stopping at that sensitive spot above my collarbone. I moaned, a loud and untamed sound. I felt his fingers undo my cloak, tugging it from below me and tossing it to the side. No rational thoughts entered my mind, the need for him drowning me. All I could think was that his touch was electric, an intoxicating pleasure, and I never wanted him to stop.

“You are everything, Asher. The beginning and the end and every moment in between,” he whispered against my skin. I had no idea what he meant, and the way that my head was spinning at the flick of his tongue stopped me from attempting to. His mouth began lowering ever so slowly, shivers following in his wake.

He made his way down my torso, stopping at the hem of my top. I peered down at him, catching the raise of a brow and nodding in silent confirmation. He flashed a devilish grin, and then ripped the fabric in half, exposing my bound chest. The cold air was a shock, and nearly enough to pull my wits back to the front of my mind. But this time, he did not ask for permission, opting to latch onto the garment with his teeth. The edges of them grazed my skin as he slowly tugged my breasts free.

His mouth was on me in an instant, sucking in a peaked nipple. I gasped at the heat of his tongue, which managed to make the chilly night a sensual caress. Every nerve in my body was alight with the very fire that ran through Bellamy’s veins. The tips of his fingers tickled and warmed me, that same flame kissing me as well.

I wanted more. I needed more.

Grabbing his other hand, I brought it down my stomach and rested it on the button of my trousers—a demand. Bellamy’s laugh vibrated against my nipple, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I leaned into him, far too tired to resist my natural response.

“I thought I was eager,” he teased.

I opened my mouth to offer a sarcastic retort, but the damned male was faster. His hand shot into my trousers with a kind of efficiency that told me he was fairly practiced, fingers meeting flesh in a way that made the stars seem to shine brighter. My back arched up as he explored slowly around that throbbing bundle of nerves. I was horribly uncontrolled, a consistent low thrum of sighs leaving my lips.

“So wet,” he purred as his fingers sped, then slipped lower to tease my entrance. Never had someone’s voice threatened to bring me to the edge, but this cursed demon’s did.

His lips met mine at the same time I reached between us, stroking the bulge in his trousers to tell him with actions rather than words that I wanted this—him. The moan that he offered my lips was erotic, a deep melody of longing and hunger.

He froze for a moment, then pulled back, separating our lips. There was something in the way his stare bore into me, as if he were peering at my soul and did not mind what he saw. I felt my heart skip a beat, a bit of panic finding its way into my chest. That look was more than simple lust.

“Choose me, Princess,” Bellamy breathed. His hold on me tightened as he pulled me up, fingers slipping out of my pants and our bodies pressing together. The tone of his voice was more of a plea than a demand. A second passed before I registered what he had said, tensing at the request.

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