Page 53 of The Salvation

No. It doesn’t matter. With Merikh, my vulnerability always returns. In some ways, it’s more intense because he’s folded his wings behind his back, lowering them. Giving me the control. Nothing is ever safe with him, and this feels even worse.

Lifting my hips, I rise off his cock in a long and slow glide. I love the sensation of his thick girth sliding out of me, the piercings gliding across my interior walls.

Lips parted, I meet his eyes the whole time, knowing what will happen if I don’t.

Once I’ve come off him to his very tip where the crown piercing twinkles a wink at me, I bite my lower lip, brace myself, then slam down hard. The sudden penetration like this tears a scream from my throat.

“Goddammit, Quintessa!” he growls and catches the back of my head with his hand, yanking me to his mouth.

Heat pools to my pussy, and before I can ride him again, the orgasm crashes against me. No warning. Like I’ve just been captured by the undertow, and Merikh drowns me in waves of intense pleasure. I claw my nails against his back, and they drag along his wings.

I groan, coming down as he starts to thrust—but his lips caressing my throat with no fangs and his hands urging my hips to move are royally pissing me off.

Because this isn’t Merikh. This isn’tus.

He doesn’t give me control. He’s not supposed to. Merikh goes dark and deep and takes me to the gates of hell to show the devil himself that I belong to the God of Blood. He fucks me on his coffin or while the sea itself closes over my head while he holds me down.

Was the sight of me getting whipped in his Court really enough to put a leash around his throat? I’m damn sure going to find out.

So, I deadpan with him, press my lips into a glower, and grip his wings, going for broke. His jaw turns to cold steel, a muscle bouncing there. And I say the words that will make him rage. “I love you, Merikh.”

He peels his lips back, baring his hungry fangs. “You want a hard fuck that much, little dove?”

I move my hands to his front and scrape my nails across his scars, savoring how his muscles turn to hard slabs of iron. And then, I spit out my doom. “Unless you’re too much of Reaver’s bitch to fuck me like we both know you want.”

One split second. And...oh, savage mercies! He’s flipped me over. Back to his chest. He enters me hard and fast with my body still upright and on his lap. One fierce move, and he’s pinned my wrists behind me with one hand, forcing them up my back until my muscles howl. I hardly get a chance to yelp before he grips my hair with his other hand, yanks my head back, then lifts me.

Faster than humanly possible, the God of Blood fucks me like this, thrusting and pumping in and out with those piercings wreaking havoc on my pussy—and I scream from the force and pleasure like renegade waves, ferocious ocean swells ramming into me.

“You like it, don’t you, my filthy dove?” he snarls, slamming into me in pulsing staccatos thrusts. “Like it when I fuck you like the slut you are?” When all my muscles convulse around him from the orgasm roaring through me, he laughs darkly. “Yes, come all around me. Fucking take my cock. Fucking take everything.”

He sinks his teeth into my neck, biting me. Seismic waves crack me open like an underwater eruption as he sucks my blood and fucks me to back-to-back tidal waves of climax, obliterating me, wrecking me, and shattering me to ruins.

After he snaps and charges his release into me, filling me with a gushing wave of his seed, I fall against the bones, these organic smithereens. Limp with pleasure, boneless from the oblivion of orgasms.

“Wipe that fucking smile off your face, little dove,” Merikh growls at me before tugging me into his arms and licking the wound I hadn’t realized was still bleeding. He seals it closed.

“Your fault. Your responsibility,” I mock him playfully, breathlessly.

“Fuck.”

He yanks me closer, and I rub up against him, nuzzling his chest and kissing his scars. The euphoria has turned my body into tingling hot foam. Thankfully, he doesn’t take me into the sea yet. My insides are sore and inflamed as if magma exploded inside them, but I’m still floating on the high of his current.

We’re covered in bone dust and crusted with ocean salt, not to mention all our fluids. We’re a chaotic mess, but it doesn’t matter. Merikh still holds me like I’m his anchor. His scars kiss my scars.

“Quintessa...”

“Hmm?” I look up and meet his eyes. Gods, he’s gorgeous. I wonder what Kyan thought the first time he came face to face with Merikh and all his primal dark beauty?

Capturing my chin in a firm grip, he studies my eyes. His dilate, deepen, and darken to a predatory state. Not just Merikh. This is the God of Blood gazing upon me. “You’re going to run, Quintessa.”

I screw my brows low. “What?”

“I’ll get Reaver and lock him in my dungeons. I’ll keep him there for eternity if I need to. But you will take Aislynn and leave with Drago, Mayce, and Kyan. You will run.” His words are as cold and hard as his coffin when he finalizes, “And leave me.”

“You know it won’t work.” I shake my head, my thoughts whirling. “For so many reasons.”

“Quintessa...” he brutalizes those eyes and grips my chin harder. “You will run.”

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