Page 60 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

And there are so many monsters in my domain. In the cemeteries. In the woods.

And in Starfrost Manor, in the gallery with her right now.

I scrape my teeth against her thundering pulse point, and her moan vibrates through me, sharp as lightning. My hands find her hips, fingers digging in just shy of bruising as I pull her harder against me.

Mine. The word pounds through my blood with each savage beat of my heart.

She fights the ribbons even as she melts into me, that maddening combination of submission and defiance that makes my power surge, my cock throb and ache.

My kiss turns brutal, claiming, conquering.

She matches me beat for beat, the response she offers in her own kiss challenging me even as she yields to my onslaught.

Such spirit. Such fire. It calls to something primal in me, something that wants to break her defiance.

Her needy whimpers vibrate against my lips as I trail searing kisses down the pale column of her throat. Her wrists strain against the bonds holding them aloft, helpless and at my mercy.

My frost magic, cold and dark, courses through my veins, tightening my grip on her soft form.

“Please,” she gasps again, arching into my touch even as she resists the ribbons of power ensnaring her. The fight in her inflames my desire, stoking the primal need to conquer and claim.

With a savage wrench, I tear the flimsy blue silk of her new court gown away from her heaving breasts. The rosy peaks draw me in, and I capture one of them hungrily between my lips, swirling my tongue around the stiffened bud. Lara cries out, the sound anguished ecstasy as she writhes against me.

I will break her and remake her.

Shatter her defenses until she has no choice but to surrender everything to me—body, mind and soul.

I will make her beg for the torment only I can give her, the darkness only I can show her.

My teeth close around the tender nub, scraping across it. Lara shudders and mewls, trapped between torment and bliss.

“You can’t resist me, princess,” I rasp against her breast.

My hand, cold and unrelenting, glides down the plush curve of her stomach, slipping beneath the pooling ruins of her gown. The warmth that radiates from her core is an irresistible beacon.

I need to feel her slick heat enveloping me again.

“No, please, Ivrael,” she whimpers, but her words are laced with longing.

I smile to myself, knowing that her defiance is crumbling. My fingers brush along the crease of her thigh, the barest touch setting her aflame.

“Yield to me,” I purr in her ear, my voice a winter’s breeze.

Her reply is a strained gasp as my fingers delve further, the barest tip of my index finger finding the slippery folds between her thighs. She is slick, so slick, the scent of her arousal intoxicating me like the sweetest nectar.

“Say it,” I demand, my voice harsh with need. “Say that you want me.”

For a moment, she hesitates, her body trembling under my ministrations.

But then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she surrenders.

“I want you,” she moans, the admission shattering whatever defenses remained.

Soaked with her scent, I trail my fingers down her trembling thighs, savoring the gooseflesh that ripples on her skin in my wake. Frost tendrils dance on her heated flesh, kindling a fire hotter than any mere flame could evoke. The contrast mocks me, as irresistible as it is infuriating.

“You are mine now, Lara,” I snarl against her neck, nipping at the soft column of her throat.

As I move my mouth to her other breast, I slide my hand back up her thigh and slip one finger, then two, deep inside her molten core. She is so tight, so wet, her sheath clenching around my digits like she never wants to let go. A low groan rumbles up from my chest as I plunge in and out, stroking her silken walls, the inferno of her desire searing my icy fingers.

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