Page 31 of His to Slash

I didn't pull away. Instead, I leaned into him, our bodies inching closer, drawn together by some unseen force. He wanted to possess me, to brand me as his own—and a part of me wanted to be claimed.

His eyes blazed with feral intensity, and I knew I had pushed him to the edge. I could feel his struggle to maintain control, to rein in the monster I had awakened. But it was too late for that.

"Do it," I whispered, my voice strained. "I'm not afraid anymore."

With a snarl, he pushed his mask up just slightly, pulled me roughly against him, then his mouth crushing mine in a kiss that was both demanding and exploratory. His lips were fierce, his tongue seeking dominance, tasting my submission. It was a kiss that branded me, marked me as his.

The control he'd been fighting for shattered, and I knew it was my doing. A part of me relished it—the dangerous edge I saw in his eyes as he shoved me back against the tree, his body pinning me in place. The force of it drove the air from my lungs in a whoosh, but I didn't care.

I felt alive.

More alive than I'd ever been, and the look in Grayson's eyes made my blood sing. It was as if he could see through me, past all my defenses, straight into the heart of the darkness that now dwelled within. I couldn't hide from him, and in that moment, I didn't want to.

It was as if we were both trying to consume the other, to devour and be devoured. His hands were everywhere—gripping my hips, tangling in my hair, sliding up my sides in a possessive, bruising grip.

I matched his intensity, my fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving marks that would bruise, pulling him closer even as I bit at his lips, tasting the coppery tang of his blood. It was a battle for dominance, neither of us willing to give an inch. The shadows around us swirled and danced, called forth by the raging storm of my emotions, wrapping us in darkness as we lost ourselves in each other.

Every touch was a spark, setting my nerve endings alight. Every kiss was a promise of violence and desire, a blending of pain and pleasure so intense it blurred the lines between them. I could feel his hunger, an echo of the darkness within me, and I knew in that moment that I was falling further into the abyss.

But I didn't want to be saved.

Finally, he pulled back, and we were both panting, our eyes wild, our faces flushed. He stared down at me, his gaze burning with a mixture of rage, lust, and something darker—something that made my very soul shiver. It was then that I knew there was no going back.

"Mine," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rasp that sent a thrill racing through me.

A sharp smile curved my lips, and I reached up, my fingers skating along the edges of his mask. "I always have been," I breathed, my tone challenging. "And you're mine, too."

A rough laugh escaped him, sounding more animal than human. He didn't argue, and in that moment, I felt a strange sense of power. I had touched something deep within him, unleashed a beast that recognized no master but me.

He leaned down, claiming my mouth again with a kiss that was fierce and demanding. This time, there was no restraint, no holding back. He devoured me, his hands roaming over my body as if he were trying to imprint every inch of me onto his memory.

And I let him.

I was aflame with need, my body aching for his touch in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. His kiss had ignited something within me—a fierce, untamed hunger that demanded satisfaction. The forest around us seemed to hold its breath, the rustling leaves and distant animal calls fading into insignificance as we tore at each other's clothes.

In the dim light filtering through the trees, I watched him, his eyes locked on mine as he rid himself of his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest. My fingers itched to touch him, to map out every contour of his body, but there was a wildness in his gaze that made me hesitate. This was a different side of Grayson, one that was raw and unfiltered, and it called to the primal part of me that I was only just beginning to understand.

I fumbled with the zipper of my jeans, our breaths ragged and syncopated in the stillness. He reached out, his hand covering mine, stopping me. There was a moment of stillness, of anticipation so intense it was almost unbearable, before he took over, peeling the fabric from my body with agonizing slowness.

Once we were both bare, he pushed me back against the rough bark of a tree, pinning me in place with his hips. His erection pressed against me, hot and insistent, and I couldn't suppress the moan that escaped my lips. He was hard and ready, and the knowledge that I had done this to him—that I had driven him to this point of no return—was intoxicating.

He kept his mask just slightly up, the upper half of his face hidden but his lips exposed. Those lips trailed a path of fire down my neck, across my collarbone, and down to my breasts, where he teased and tormented me with his teeth and tongue. Every flick of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me, and I found myself arching into him, my hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

His mouth moved lower, blazing a trail over my stomach, dipping into my navel, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a staccato rhythm that matched the throbbing between my legs. My breath caught in my throat as he reached the apex of my thighs, his fingers parting me, exposing me to his hot gaze.

I heard him inhale deeply, a low growl of approval rumbling from his chest as he took in the sight of me. Then his mouth was on me, his tongue darting out to taste me, and I couldn't hold back the cry that tore from my throat. It was a sound born of pure, unadulterated pleasure, raw and unrestrained.

His movements were deliberate and thorough, each lap of his tongue sending waves of ecstasy coursing through me. He seemed to know exactly how to touch me, how to drive me to the brink only to pull back and leave me teetering on the edge of release.

I could feel the tension building within me, a coiling spring that threatened to snap at any moment. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer even as I writhed beneath him, my body caught in the throes of his exquisite torment.

"Grayson," I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Please."

He responded by increasing the pressure, his tongue working me into a frenzy until I could feel the orgasm building, an unstoppable force that was about to break free. I was panting now, my body tightening, my muscles quivering with the effort of holding back.

And then, with one final stroke of his tongue, he sent me spiraling over the edge. My orgasm hit me like a wave, crashing over me and washing away everything except the intense pleasure that radiated from my core. I cried out, my body convulsing as I rode the waves of my release, and all the while, he stayed with me, his mouth gentle now as he lapped at me, drawing out my orgasm until I was limp and boneless against the tree.

But he wasn't done with me yet.

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