Page 60 of The Ripper

My fingers traveled up the leg still resting on the bed as my mouth made its way up her calf, reaching the side of her knee as a strangled moan left her.

“Grimm,” she moaned.

Shoot me dead, what a melody.

“What is it, Snezhinka?” I asked as my teeth grazed the inside of her thigh and I leaned over her, sinking them into her soft flesh as she pushed her head into the pillow, eyelids fluttering. “What do you need?”

I blew air over her core, watching with morbid fascination as her skin became covered in goosebumps. I deliberately avoided direct contact with her pussy, switched to the other leg and gave it the same treatment before I sat up and looked at her.

Her chest rose and fell with frantic movements as her feet struggled to stay on the mattress. A pink blush crept up her chest and reached her neck as small beads of sweat formed on her skin. Those rosewood-colored nipples tightened, begging for attention while she watched me through her lashes, fingers clawing at her white sheets.

I licked my lips, admiring the flawless, stainless beauty that lay before my eyes. I touched, caressed and kneaded every inch of her legs before I moved closer and rolled my hips into her once, just to let her feel how much she affected me, and that gesture elicited another whimper from her.

I could see the struggle in her, how hard she was resisting the urge to cover herself, and it made me angry.

Why would she do that? Why did she want to hide?

I had been watching this woman for the past six years, seen her interact with countless people, and her confidence was unmatched. It was one of the things I obsessed over when it came to her. She didn’t belittle herself, so what the fuck happened in the last twenty minutes that pushed her into this state? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something to trigger this?

Fuck. What did I do?

I secured her legs around my hips and lifted her up so that no part of her touched the bed anymore, then glued her to me, searching for her eyes, silently begging her to let me see them.

“Why were you crying, little angel?” I pulled the elastic out of her hair and groaned as her blonde curls fell in waves down her back and shoulders.

“I wasn’t,” she whispered, lying through her teeth as she avoided looking at me.

I grinned as I gathered her hair in my palm and wrapped it around my fist, then pulled her head back, making her grit her teeth. It wasn’t brutal enough to hurt, but hard enough to pull the submissiveness out of her, enough to stir that side that begged to be dominated.

“Remember when I told you not to lie to me?” I asked, allowing her to fall back on the bed and leaning over her.

“Yes.” She bit her lip when I greedily took one nipple into my mouth and moaned as I bit down on it.

Her back arched as she tried to close her legs, but my body between them prevented it. I sucked on her skin until it turned a deep shade of red, then moved to her other breast and exerted the same punishment as Arella’s hips kept pushing against me to get some friction — friction I denied her.

Her palms pressed on my shoulders, and I sat up, admiring the marks I left on her as I ran a finger through her folds, feeling how wet she was for me.

God, for a second I almost forgot about the point I was trying to make, but she lied to me, so I avoided looking into her eyes to give her a taste of her own medicine and I concentrated on the way my fingers glistened with her arousal.

“Grimm, please.” But I still didn’t look at her.

It hurt me as much as it hurt her.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” I sank two fingers into her throbbing core once, just enough to make her needier, then pulled them out and continued to lazily circle her clit. “Why were you crying, Arella?” I repeated myself.

“I wasn’t,” she lied again, trying to push her hips up to intensify the pressure, but every time they moved up, I withdrew my fingers.

“You don’t get to come after lying to me,” I stopped and licked my fingers, then finally looked into her eyes.

She was unraveling.

Storms raged beneath those raw greens, and I wanted all the wind, all the rain, and every lightning bolt. I wanted her to pour down on me, to give me all that pain she kept buried, all the fucked-up thoughts that dimmed her light.

Arella gritted her teeth when I wrapped my palm around her throat. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” I said as I took her bottom lip between my teeth and bit down on it. “Why the fuck were you crying?”

She gulped audibly, but not because she was scared, but because I could see how her eyes sparkled with something much more rancid than simple fear.

There it was, staring back at me with contempt, fucking insecurity.

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