Page 72 of Cursed Shadows 3

I don’t have a moment to drape my legs over his hips, to position myself better on the edge of the table, to ready myself for the intrusion before it comes.

His hold on my thigh firms.

Then he brings me down on him.

My reaction is quick and cold, like frosted lighting striking through my body.

A hiss escapes me. My teeth bare on instinct, the fright jolting through my tensing muscles.

A snarl presses against my mouth.

Daxeel’s lips curl with the instinctual growl, his hand gripping tighter onto the meat of my thigh.

The heel of my foot digs into the edge of the table, and I push away from him, from the sudden filling sensation I wasn’t ready for.

But Daxeel doesn’t let me get away.

His arm loops around the small of my back, and he yanks me back down. He fucking impales me, again.

“Fuck you,” the words grunt out of me, restrained like the gasp I keep pinned to my chest. But the curse is barely off my tongue before a rope of shadows lifts from behind me—and coils, fast, around my mouth.

I blink.

Lashes flutter on the blur of cerulean eyes and honeyed skin and pink lips, the colours that warm my dreams and chill my nightmares, that consume me and empty me.

The shadow gags me.

And more come.

Shadows are licking at me all over.

The caresses are the faintest of tickles on my flesh. Hot and icy breaths along my arms, over the curve of my neck, up the inner touch of my thighs.

My toes curl against the sensation, the feel of a thousand mouths on my body at once, a harem of lovers all over me.

But it’s only him.

My one. My love, my monster.

His teeth bite down on my lips softly. Sharp points press into the meat of my lip, daring to draw blood, but don’t.

The pain comes from his sudden thrust.

I grunt against the impact.

His arm loops around the small of my back, and he holds me to him, firm, distant, like the pace of his harsh thrusts, butthere’s nothing distant or firm in the way he watches me, like I am life, I am god, I am everything in between.

My spine curves; back arches against the slithers of the shadows. Tendrils of darkness, devouring me. And I bask in the adoration of it.

I feel the unravelling of a tendril along my collarbone.

Another flicks over the strap of my dress, thentugsit down.

Dazed, I frown on the curiosity, but it’s all I manage before the neckline of the dress falls down—and tingles jolt through me as the shadows caress my nipples.

A shudder runs through me.

Fluid strokes, he fucks into me, but he worships me with his shadows, he loves me with the hot press of his mouth on mine, the flutter of his lashes over enamoured eyes.

---