Page 17 of Cursed Shadows 3

His gaze bores into mine as he forces his way inside of me, pushes against the firmness of my walls.

My breath hitches.

I grab out for him. One hand flattens on his nearing chest, the other clutches his inked bicep.

His muscles jump under my touch, turn to pure steel.

I utter the word in a shuddering breath, “Yes.”

Yes, I deserve your kindness.

Or at least, I want it.

I get the opposite.

A mask of shadows and cruelty looks down at me.

Daxeel slams into me in a single, smooth stroke.

And it knocks a cry right out of me.

I throw my head back. Lips twisting around a gravelled sound, I arch against him, as though fuelled by the need to escape the sudden intrusion.

He allows no such escape.

The weight of his hand comes down on my breastbone; he holds me down, pins me.

Shadows curve around me. Thick inky tendrils coil and skitter and unravel, until it’s all around us, embracing us—and we exist in a cocoon of darkness.

As if to mock me, the growl that shudders through Daxeel, it tenses his cock against my clamped walls.

“I gave you kindness once.” There’s a raspiness to his voice, a husky need, the same that darkens his eyes in these cruel shadows. “I looked upon you…” He slides out of me, slow and slick, all the way to the tip. “And experienced evate.”

I brace myself.

Fingers cutting into his stone skin, I seize up—and he drives himself back into my body.

The grunt echoes in my chest.

A cruel smirk slides onto his pinkish lips, and I think he might take a bite right out of me. “I embraced it.”

He doesn’t flinch, not at the blood my nails draw, dug so firm into his marble flesh.

A steel statue of shadows curved over me, his hips move, he finds a fluid, torturous pace.

The strokes glide in and out of me, in and out, in and out, not kind, not tender—not loving. Nothing loving in this, in the way he’s so clearly building up to savagery, the way he wants me to melt against his intrusion, ease the taut muscles of my body…

It works.

The furs embrace me, the shadows flick over the fallen bodice of my chemise, lash at my breasts; they unravel along my exposed neck, traverse my fluttering flesh to my parted lips—and delve inside.

I feel them.

I feel them like breaths on my skin, whispers at my ear, sharp bites of wind that find me.

A wispy breath escapes me—and I melt under the attack.

The touch of the shadows, it’s a peculiar cool, crisp warmth. I part my lips further, welcoming the shadow that flicks into my mouth. I feel it unwind over my tongue. The sensation lures a guttural moan from me.

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