Page 28 of The Nightmare's Kiss

“And why not?” He leans down, face pressing against the side of my neck.

I tense at the feeling of warm breath against my skin, my body aching with want despite my head’s disagreement. “Because… It…” It’s hard to think. I let out a small whimper as the sharp points of his teeth tease the skin of my neck—not in pain, but desire. The point of contact sends a wave of pleasure all the way through my body, intensifying into a throbbing at my core.

“Tell me, Mara,” he whispers, long tongue flicking against the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Am I the helpless one here?”

I swallow hard, squirming in his grip. “No,” I whisper.

“No,” he agrees in a pleased murmur. “Here, you are mine.”

“I—” I start to protest, and he bites my neck, drawing a cry of shock out of me. It hurts, but the spark of pain soon turns into a confusing wave of pleasure as his tongue smooths over the place his teeth marked. “I— I—”

“Say it,” he purrs, teeth scraping over the already-raw skin again.

My back arches, a low keening escaping my mouth. “I’m yours.”

“Good girl.” He pulls back enough that I can see his face and he can see mine, doubtlessly flushed, as my chest heaves for air and my wrists strain uselessly against his grip. “Now tell me what you want.”

“I…” I shut my eyes, but at his growl of disapproval, I open them again and look up at him. His own eyes are intense, burning as they lock onto mine. “I want…”

“Louder,” he says, squeezing my wrists so hard, it’s almost painful.

“I want everything,” I gasp out. “Anything. All you can give me.” It’s incoherent, babbling, but it’s true no matter how humiliating it is to admit. I want him to taste me and bite me and hurt me. I want him to fuck me so hard, I can barely walk in the morning. I want to give myself entirely to him. “I wantyou,” I say, unsure how to put all of that into words without sounding desperate.

His lips slowly curl into a sharp-edged smile. “Then you shall have me,” he says.

But instead of pinning me down and fucking me hard, the way I want, he grips me by the wrists and dangles me above the bed. I gasp and squirm. Holy God, he isstrong. It hurts a little, being held like this. But much more than that, it turns me on. He watches me, gauging my reaction before he begins to undress me.

It’s maddeningly slow. One piece of clothing at a time. He tugs down my long pajama pants and tosses them aside. My shirt comes off next; he maneuvers my body expertly while I remain limp and let him do as he pleases. He leaves me like that for a moment, eyes roving over my breasts and the smooth expanse of my stomach before a shadowy tendril reaches for my panties. It forms a tentacle-like shape and rubs over the already-damp fabric, providing tantalizing friction over my clit, until I let out a helpless little moan. Only then does he pull the panties down and toss them aside, leaving me fully naked and helpless in front of him.

I flush despite myself. He’s fucked me before, but it was different then. I didn’t know it was real. Now I feel more exposed, more self-conscious. I press my thighs together, averting my gaze from his intense stare. But a moment later, two shadowy tentacles wrap around my thighs and force them apart hard enough that I gasp. Another grabs me by the chin and forces my face back up toward him.

“You are beautiful,” he says.

I want to turn away, but instead I hold his gaze. Something bold and hungry sparks in my chest. I already showed him the desires I’ve always been ashamed of…and he was eager to fulfill them. I swallow hard. “Then maybe you should do something more than stare at me,” I challenge in a whisper.

He chuckles. While the shadows hold me in place, he moves forward until he’s kneeling on the bed in front of my dangling form.

“I will not be rushed,” he murmurs. He presses his shadowy lips to my ankle, my calf, my thigh, slow and unhurried. I try to squirm, but the tentacles only tighten their grip, spreading my thighs obscenely wide. When he smiles up at me from between my legs, I am laid bare—trembling and glistening with need.

“Please,” I whimper, and his grin grows.

“Please what, Mara?”

Fucker. I bite my lip, warring with my self-consciousness, and then finally whisper, “Please…eat me.”

His smile turns hungry. He presses another kiss to my inner thigh, agonizingly close to where I ache with desire, and then that deliciously long tongue snakes out of his mouth and slides against my skin. I groan, chest heaving, as he teases at one thigh, and then the other. Each time inching a little bit higher, but never reaching where I need him.

“Please,” I beg again, writhing as much as his grip on me allows. “God, please—” I cut off with a gasp of pleasure as his warm tongue finally slides against me. He hums in pleasure, and I feel it vibrate in my core. He licks me slowly, from ass to clit, and then his tongue flicks against that sensitive bud and I whimper again.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs, his hot breath ghosting against my sensitive skin.

“Then don’tstop,” I gasp, too turned on to worry about how needy I sound.

He huffs a laugh and resumes, his tongue lapping at me in long, smooth motions, teasing me until I am dripping wet and painfully sensitive. I whimper and beg and twist in the grip of the shadows still holding me helpless in the air. And finally, just when the teasing has become painful, he devotes his full attention to my clit, tongue swirling with slowly increasing pressure, exhaling a moan against me as though this is as pleasurable for him as it is for me. That liquid heat inside of me boils over and I come hard against his mouth, whimpering with pleasure, grinding against his tongue to wring out every last drop of satisfaction. He doesn’t pull back until I stop shaking, and then looks up at me and licks his sharp teeth.

Just as the ripples of my orgasm fade, he presses his mouth to me again and his tongue dips inside of me. I gasp at the new sensation, back arching as his long, serpentine tongue slides in, and in, and in, stuffing me almost as full as his cock can. I am still achingly sensitive after my first orgasm, but now that pleasure cranks back up to eleven, almost overwhelmingly good.

“Oh fuck,” I breathe. His tongue twists, striking that sweet spot, and I let out an incoherent cry of pleasure. He strokes me again and again, until it is riding on the edge of being too intense. I come again, so hard that my vision goes dark around the edges, writhing and shuddering in his grip. He doesn’t stop until I go limp, chest heaving as I pant. He pulls back, his tongue slowly receding back into his mouth, and presses a wet kiss to the inside of my thigh.

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