Page 21 of Reflections of Silence

His mouth descended on mine as he worked his way between my hips and thrust forward.

Stars exploded behind my eyes. Not the pleasurable sort, but a deep tear centered around where he pushed his length inside me. I whimpered against his perfect, arched lips.

His tongue speared inside my mouth, and I tasted my own blood. “I promised you pleasure with pain, Gella,” he murmured.

The ache remained as he thrust all the way inside me. His breath left mine and I inhaled until sharp points pierced my throat, and my world exploded again. Pure bliss filled my body, overwhelmed my mind. My hips undulated as he began to move within me, smooth, slow strokes that matched the gentle rhythmic suck at my pulse.

I arched and curled around him, as he released me, trailing my hands over his back, his shoulders. His hips moved against mine, smooth movements turning rough. Teeth grazed my throat, sharp strings against my skin over and over again until I gushed hot and liquid in his arms. I cried out, tangling my hands in his hair.

Somewhere in the depths of my mind, he growled a low possessive sound.

You’ll always be mine, Gella.

CHAPTER SEVEN

GISELLA

I lay on my stomach in the cool air, Sebastian’s body warm where our flesh touched, as though by being near the living, it gave him life. He tangled his hands in my hair, alternating gentle strokes and tugs, a sweet mirror of the way he played with my breasts, of his hips pummeling relentlessly into me.

A gentle ache between my legs reminded me of the way his body owned mine, a dampness there that belonged to both of us.

I raised myself on my elbows over his chest, looking down at him. “Is this what you had in mind, tonight?” Though my awkwardness had dropped away, I was unsure what to say and sought to fill the silence, anyway.

“Well, I did have something in mind,” he murmured, capturing my face in both hands and pressing a kiss to my mouth with blood-stained lips. “For now, be still, you little hellion, and let me worship you.” His eyes laughed at me while my mind stumbled over my acceptance of who andwhatI had married.

But accepted him, I had.

I shook my head in mock horror. “Defiling virgins in their new home…”

“Did I hurt you?” he asked seriously, drawing me down to him. His mouth found mine, gentle, undemanding, this time.

If I hurt you, I beg forgiveness with pleasure.

My body heated at the memory of his prowess in the sexual arts. Could a woman want less in an arranged proposal? I shook my head, bemused. The brief pain where he’d bitten me revisited me in a sharp pang. But that wasn’t what he’d meant, and anyway, I wasn’t prepared to have that conversation quite yet.

As though he were present in my head, his hand came down on the soft flesh of my rump, the memory of pain and pleasure reviving my desire. I yelped, and he did it again, smiling as I writhed on his lap. Each smack built pressure inside my body, and as promised, he paired the pleasure of a sweet stroke along my soaked folds between blows.

I trembled, clinging to him as he worked out whatever he needed as he probed my deeper places with a single finger. Each stroke of pain or pleasure brought another moan from my lips. He studied me as I writhed on his prostrate body as though cataloging my cries and storing them away for later, when he might make me scream for him again.

After an interminable time, he offered quarter, working his fingers in quick, hard strokes deep inside me. My cries grew as I stared down into his face, letting him command my body until I broke, shattering over him and slumped onto his chest. My pants softened as he cupped the back of my head and held me to him, my legs slipped either side of his wide body.

I didn’t know how long we lay together, tangled in each other's arms. As my awareness came back, so did my prior thoughts. I leaned up to lick his chest, earning a soft groan.

“Gella, if you do things like that—” His warning sent a frisson of heat through my exhausted body.

Not to be deterred, I asked the question that was most on my mind.

“It was you, with the maid. Wasn’t it?” She hadn’t hurt herself after all. He had. I didn’t need to ask, but saying the words aloud made the surreal circumstances seem so much more ...real, somehow. “I should be scared of you,” I mused, burying my head against his chest.

I’d searched for a heartbeat before, and found none.

At least the legend didn’t disappoint.

“Not everyone is so…acceptingof my kind.” The lamp flickered, throwing his face into sharp relief, enhancing the angle of his jaw, the high cheekbones and shadows around his eyes.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured, burrowing closer, despite the implied horror of his words. “People fear what they don’t know.”

“And you know me now, do you?” His voice took on a hint of amusement, fast swallowed by a harsh laugh. “I was created by a creature who dined on magic and slept on a bed of souls. She—” His face shuttered, the demonic look leaving him until he appeared human again, except for the tinge of blood that stained his lips. “I don’t know if there are more like me. Who, orwhatshe might have made. I was purely an experiment. If I have kin, she forgot to mention it as she terrorized life from a broken body.”

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