Page 91 of They Break Beauty

She hissed and a pearl of blood leaked onto the cold metal. I exerted more pressure until it was leaking over the curve of her breast.

And then I dove down and licked up the trail, tasting her.

Her hands fisted in my hair. “God, Levi.”

I sucked on her abused nipple, drawing more blood onto my tongue and savoring such an intimate piece of her.

Mine.

Her nails scraped my scalp. “I need you. Fuck, I need you now.”

I lifted my head and slicked my tongue across her bottom lip, delighting in her licking off my taste and her blood mixed together.

And then I brought my blade to her pants and cut through the soft material like butter.

I brushed the scraps away, made a little slice to her lace panties beneath, then tore them from her body with a growl, her needy pleas making me fucking crazy.

As I pulled off her shoes, and her entire body was bared to me, it was all I could do not to jerk down my pants and slam inside her, pounding her up the kitchen table, maybe even decimating the thing with the force of my out-of-control thrusts.

Because that was how I felt with her right now—out of fucking control.

I wanted to let go, to give into it, and her reactions and pleas made it clear she did too.

But I couldn’t.

Not just yet.

I had to summon restraint.

For her benefit.

She needed me to straddle that line.

And I fucking would.

I wouldn’t screw this up, I wouldn’t scare her, not when it came to getting physical.

Absolutely fucking not.

“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I groaned, taking in every inch of her in all her bared glory.

A goddamn goddess was what she was.

Lying there sprawled out on the table like an offering, her breasts reddened from my erotic attentions, her chest heaving in need, shifting restlessly in her desperation to have me, to have us, and her cunt so slick she was dripping down between her spread thighs.

All for me.

I traced my fingers over her all-seeing eye pendant. “I never forgot a single detail about you, Wildflower.”

And then it happened, she finally gave it right back to me. “Neither did I.”

I lunged at her, earning a yelp, and hauled her off the table.

Gathering her in my arms, I carried her to the bedroom.

She licked my neck, her tongue teasing my scar. And then she was slicking it over my vibrant red and black all-seeing eye tattoo on my left shoulder, tracing the design with sensual licks that had a carnal groan escaping me, my cock pushing painfully against my pants.

I adjusted her weight in my arms and held her with one hand, so I could snatch her wrist and exact the same sensual torment on her watercolor butterfly tattoo on her inner forearm.

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