Page 2 of Lux

I enjoy observing her frantic gasps when I finally pull down her dress and reveal her naked body underneath. Although she's frail, she has a beauty I cannot deny. It makes me drop to my knees, reach around to cup her delicate ass against the palms of both hands. With my head bowed, I press my forehead against her thin, trembling stomach. I inhale her scent. Breathe her in deep.

“Tell me I’m yours,” I say. Command.

More wrong words—say you’re mine, I should have demanded—but they ring true when heard out loud. A plea. Desperation personified.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she says instead, working those slim fingers through my hair, parting the strands, grazing my scalp with greedy, grasping touches. I'm greedy for her--a hunger far beyond my lust for blood.

Though I didn't drain her dry, I can still taste her on my tongue. Sweet. Delicate. Until now, I have never had the chance to savor my prey’s blood. Just one bite was all I took. Having tasted her, she then did the same, licking up my blood like a sweet treat. It has already healed and transformed her gaunt frame. My hands slide around to her front, tickling the inside of a pale, white thigh thrumming with warmth.

A low sound trickles from her mouth, but I don’t need her to say a word. I’m in her head already. I know what she wants.

More.

I drive the tip of a finger inside her, and she still wants more. The need she feels ripples through my skin. I'm electrified byher heat. It stimulates this dead body more than gallons upon gallons of blood ever could. I add another finger beside the first and hear her whimper. Moan. Music to these damned ears.

The feel of her… One touch spurs on a hunger that somehow aches worse than being crushed under Cassius’s thumb. I would have killed myself rather than be touched by him. Be near him.

Yet, my only goal now is to touch her as much as possible. To feel this body shiver in response to me. Ache for me. To hear that trembling mouth beg for me.

“Caspian…”

Despite being a balm to my soul, her voice is a dangerous melody. A taste of it is never enough.

“More,” I rasp into the flesh of her belly. I will always need more.

And she is so eager to give it to me. Another gasp of my name as I stroke her from the inside out. More searing heat to greet the next searching plunge inside of her. My name again. A thready gasp again. Over and over until her nails threaten to pierce my skull and her head flies back, body bowed.

She is now more beautiful to me than any damn painting she could desire. Her pleasure alone is rich enough to paint with. I slide my fingers from her, glistening with her essence. I stroke one along her skin.

There. That glistening strip is more appealing to me than blotches on canvas.

“A masterpiece,” I tell her, laughing at her sharp intake of air. “Shall I tell you what I see here, little Niamh?”

In this ivory skin, I see myself reflected. When I look into her ebony eyes, I see heaven. In my hands, I hold her world. While I draw mindless patterns into her skin, I have her full attention. My desire is written on her body with these grazing nails and probing fingertips.

It’s a tragedy, this artwork of ours.

A beautiful damn tragedy.

Nevertheless, I will endure every minute. Pushing her into a wall, I drag her down to me and endure her. Hard, with a thrust that takes her breath away. Harder still as her body envelopes me in a molten fist. Then deeper still. So deep that I can feel me through her.

Her awe.

Her greedy need.

Her hunger for more.

I take her and take her. Even when she cries out my name and I spill my seed inside of her, I barely let her breathe before hardening again. Thrusting inside her. Hearing my name rip from that throat.

Damn Cassius to hell, but he was worth it.

To feel this sin in his place, any torture was worth it.

But for how long?

How long?

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