Page 70 of My Bloody Valentine

I arch my back, urging him to thrust deeper. “Yes. I want it all, Adrian. The pleasure, the pain, everything you’re willing to give.”

The sound of his laugh is pure sin. “You won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow. I plan to leave my marks all over that exquisite body of yours.”

“Then do it.” My voice is fierce, wanting to push him further. “Scar me. Make everyone who sees me know that I’m yours.”

The scent of blood and sex fills the room, intoxicating my senses. Adrian’s body covers mine, his weight pressing me into the table, branding me with his possession. The cuts he’s made on my body throb with pleasure, and I crave more. I want his marks all over me, inside me. His teeth scrape my shoulder, his mouth hot against my skin, and I moan, bucking my hips to meet his thrusts.

“Say it again.” His breath fans my neck, his lips brushing my ear. “Tell me I own you.”

“I’m yours,” I pant, heat flooding my core. “Adrian, take me—all of me.”

He growls, his hands tightening on my hips. His thrusts become more urgent, filling me completely. “Say my name.”

“Adrian,” I cry out, my body arching off the table. “I’m yours, Adrian. Only yours.”

“Say it again.” His grip is almost bruising, his need feral. “Louder. Let me hear you surrender.”

“Adrian!” The word is ripped from my throat, my voice hoisting as pleasure coils within me. “I’m yours! I’m yours!”

His mouth finds mine, kissing me fiercely. Our tongues dance in rhythm to the thrust of his hips, and I can taste our pleasure on his lips. His hands move to grip my ass, lifting me to meet him, and he drives into me with relentless force.

I can feel him everywhere—in my veins, in my heart, in my very soul. This man owns me, body and mind, and he’s carved out a space in the darkest part of me that only he can fill.

Adrian groans, his body tensing. “Look at me, Maya. I want to see your eyes when you come.”

I force my heavy lids open, my gaze locking with his as pleasure crashes over me like a wave. I’m aware of everything—the sounds of our labored breathing, the slick slide of our bodies, the tang of copper and salt on my tongue. I’m drowning in sensation, knowing we’ve crossed a line together. This is more than sex, more than murder. It’s a celebration of the darkness within us both.

The orgasm tears through me, more powerful than any I’ve experienced before. I cry out, my body shaking, and Adrian follows, his release flooding into me.

He collapses on top of me, his breath hot against my neck, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. We’re sweaty and sated, our bodies still joined.

“I love you,” he whispers, brushing my damp skin. “I should feel guilty, but I don’t. I feel alive.”

“Me, too.” I pull him tighter, not wanting any space between us. “We’re connected forever now. Bound by blood.”

Adrian lifts his head, his eyes searching my face. “Maya, my beautiful dark angel... Do you regret what we’ve done?”

I reach up to stroke his face, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his cheekbones. “No. We’re beyond regret, Adrian. We’ve created something unique, something that transcends morality. It’s just us now. No one else will ever understand.”

He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “We’re bound, you and me. Our souls intertwined. No one can judge us. Not when they don’t know the true depth of human connection.”

I run my free hand through his hair, my heart aching with a love I never thought possible. “We’re not monsters, Adrian. We’re just two twisted people who found each other. We’ve pushed boundaries, but we’ve also created art. This,” I make a motion toward the room, to the collection vessels, “reflects our passion, our obsession. There’s beauty in it, too.”

Adrian’s eyes shine with unshed tears. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You and me. We’re the same. We see beauty in places others fear to look. It’s not wrong, Adrian. It’s just us.”

He closes his eyes, a wave of emotion washing over him. “I’ve always felt alone, even in a crowd. But with you, I feel whole. Like we’re two halves of a broken soul.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” I assure him, wishing I could erase the pain in his eyes. “You have me. No matter what, I’m here. Your partner, your lover, your coconspirator.”

He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm, moving lower to gently kiss the pulse point of my wrist. “I’ll make us something,” he promises. “Something that symbolizes this moment.”

I shiver, both from the idea and the intimate way he’s touching me. “You don’t have to. This moment is enough. We don’t need symbols; we have each other.”

“But I want to. It will be my gift to you, a physical representation of what we share.” He leans in, his lips hovering over my pulse. “We are infinite, you and I.”

His lips softly brush my wrist, feather-light touches sending shivers down my spine. I feel marked not just by his bites but by the gentle caress of his mouth.

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