Page 139 of A Bond in Blood

I met his eyes again at the last word. “Control?”

“In this room.” He crawled toward me once more. His palm landed on my hip, pressing my back against the bed. “You are fully in control.”

“What does that even mean?” I groaned.

“Command me.” His cold came from him, a release of power and need. “Take control, Brenna.”

“I hate my name on your lips.”

“Brenna,” he whispered, holding me tighter. “Brenna.” His head dipped and he kissed my hip once more. “Brenna.”

“Oh my Gods.”

His free hand trailed up my thigh, stopping when he reached the top. “Do you remember what I said about bedding someone you hate?”

I shook. “It’s addictive.”

“Addictive,” he breathed out. “So fucking addictive.”

“Yes.”

His eyes snapped away from my hip. “You can always change your mind.”

“Yes,” I repeated.

“Thank the fucking Gods,” he muttered.

His head dipped and his mouth claimed me like it had the night before. My hips shot upward with the shock of the pleasure. My fingers gripped the sheets tighter, pulling them while his mouth moved with precision.

“Oh my Gods,” I cried.

His fingers continued trailing along my thigh while his mouth moved on me. His tongue circling my clit was followed by hard, unbearable sucking.

“Oh my Gods!” I yelled out again.

“I am the only God in this room, Brenna,” he whispered as his fingers entered me.

Any rational thought, begging me to reconsider my choices, was gone in an instant. Fleeing from my mind while his fingers worked inside of me. Pulling at my need. Calling forth my hidden desires.

“So fucking wet,” he growled before claiming me with his mouth again.

My entire being was shaking the more he worked. Moving his tongue and fingers in sync together. Tugging at my body’s desire to let go.

But I could not.

“Brenna,” he muttered against me. “Control, Brenna.”

“I can’t,” I whimpered, shaking my head.

He rose, pulling his lips from me but his fingers remained. His thumb replaced his mouth while he leaned over me. A giant overpowering me, holding me in place.

“Let go.” He circled his thumb.

“I can’t,” I muttered again.

He added another finger, forcing a scream I could not hold back.

“Control,” he whispered again.

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