Page 38 of My Bloody Valentine

“No,” I gasp, pulling away from his blood-stained lips. “This is wrong. You’re a murderer.”

But Adrian’s fingers trace the cut on my thigh, making my breath catch as he applies pressure to the wound—it stings and throbs.

“Am I?” His blue eyes bore into mine. “Or am I an artist who understands that true creation requires sacrifice? The hollow ones I choose—they waste their lives. I give them purpose, transform them into something beautiful.”

I close my eyes, fighting against the way my skin burns for him. “That’s insane. You can’t justify murder by calling it art.”

“Yet here you are,” Adrian’s thumb circles my inner thigh, “trembling with an ache for a murderer you claim to reject. Your body knows what you need. Stop fighting it.”

“I won’t be like you.” My voice wavers as his hand slides higher. “I can’t...”

“Can’t what?” He leans close, his breath hot against my neck. “Can’t admit that you crave this? That you want to taste the forbidden? I see how your pupils dilate when I touch you. How your pulse races when I show you my true nature.”

My body betrays me, arching into his touch even as I try to pull away. His fingers find me wet and ready, and I hate myself for responding to him.

“Stop,” I whisper, but there’s no conviction in my voice.

Adrian’s eyes narrow. “Your lips say stop, but your body begs for more. You’re mine now. The sooner you accept that, the sooner I can show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams.”

I close my eyes, blocking out his words and ignoring how right he feels. His touch sets me on fire, making me want things I shouldn’t—things that terrify me.

“I won’t...” I start to protest, but Adrian’s mouth claims mine in a bruising kiss that tastes of copper and sin.

He pulls away, breaking the spellbinding kiss. I’m breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. My body aches with need, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

“You’re so beautiful, Maya,” he murmurs, his eyes trailing over my body possessively. “I want to explore every inch of you. To see you fully surrender.”

My pulse quickens as he retrieves a blindfold and binds it gently over my eyes. The room darkens, heightening my other senses. As the fabric brushes against my skin, I shiver, a tantalizing preview of the restraint to come.

Slowly, deliberately, he binds my wrists above my head, securing them with silk scarves. I’m spread out before him, utterly vulnerable and exposed. A thrill runs through me, and I bite my lip to muffle a moan.

“Perfect,” he breathes, his lips grazing my ear. “Now, let me taste you.”

The tip of his knife teases my skin, trailing lightly down my neck, across my collarbone, and lower. I tense, anticipating the sharp bite of the blade. Still, he only grazes me, leaving a trail of tingling sensitivity in its wake.

With the flat of the knife, he runs it up the curve of my throat. I feel the whisper-soft touch of his lips against my pulse, his breath hot and intimate against my skin. My heart hammers, anticipating the razor-thin edge of the blade.

I gasp as the knife’s edge breaks the surface. Adrian’s mouth is on it instantly, his tongue lapping gently, tasting me. My body arches toward him, electricity shooting through me where his mouth touches.

“Such sweet blood,” he whispers, his lips moving against my skin. “And so much more to taste.”

His tongue teases my wound, and I moan, my body bucking against the restraints. I’m aware of every sensation, the scrape of the knife against my sensitive skin, the heat of his skin against my bare legs, the contrast of his wet mouth on my flesh.

“My exquisite little critic,” he murmurs, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on my stomach. “Tell me, have you ever felt so alive?”

I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off with a hard, demanding kiss. His tongue invades my mouth, demanding and possessive, even as his fingers gently stroke my most sensitive spots. I taste my blood on his lips, and it only turns me on because it tastes of pure obsession.

His mouth leaves mine, trailing kisses down my throat and lower. He skips over places I want him to touch, teasing me, driving me wild with need. His mouth hovers over my breasts, his breath teasing my already taut nipples.

“Adrian,” I plead, my body aching for release. “Please.”

But he only laughs, the sound sending shivers through me. “No rush. We have all the time in the world.”

He continues the slow, torturous path down my body, his mouth paying homage to every inch of skin. Sharp nips with his teeth make me cry out, followed by soothing licks that send shivers through me. He owns more and more of my body with each touch, branding me. When his lips reach my stomach, he pauses, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.

“You’re so beautiful, Maya,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “So responsive. Every touch, every taste... it’s like you were made for me.”

I burn with need, aching for him to keep going. I feel him smile against my skin before he continues his journey, this time with open-mouth kisses that leave me breathless. Lower and lower he goes, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me open as he settles between my legs.

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