Page 30 of Lord of the Dark

"Show me what you've got. And make it good," I challenged, shoving her forcefully to the ground, right toward the knife. Skilled, she absorbed my energy, scrambling swiftly across the floor to grab it. The moment her fingers stretched for the blade, I was over her, pinning her beneath my weight into the unyielding ground. Her delicate frame was no match—her muscles tensed in desperate resistance.

"You're fucking relentless," I murmured appreciatively into her ear as she gasped for breath beneath me. "But you've met your master." I clasped her wrists together behind her back with one hand and snatched the knife with the other.

Slowly, I shifted my weight to the side, allowing her to roll onto her back. "Turn over and don't you dar—" I hadn’t even finished my damn sentence before she wrenched an arm free and drove her elbow into my face. My jaw screamed like hell, as if shattered.

"I alone decide who I belong to. Shove your 'master' up your ass," she hissed.

A dark burn seared through my temples. I leaned in, gripping her throat roughly, slamming her back down. My fingers dug into her chin, forcing her eyes on me. "You decide nothing here," I growled. Her heart hammered wildly against my hold, one leg bent beneath her—she dared not move more than necessary.

I lowered myself over her. Her breaths shallowed. I felt her body tense as if bracing for final defiance—then she closed the last distance between us.

The first contact was a lightning strike. Her lips crashed into mine, greedy and scorching, as if she wanted to devour me. Her tongue found mine without hesitation—wild, relentless, leaving me utterly unprepared. I was used to taking. But this witch was a goddamn storm. She wasn’t kissing me—she was attacking. Her fingers clawed into my shirt, dragging me closer, deeper into this whirlpool of desire and violence. Every muscle in me coiled tight, my hands digging into her waist as if clinging for survival. My heart pounded faster, hammering against the armor of my ribs—the barrier that kept out everything I refused to allow.

Her taste was sin. Velvety, sweet, and lethal—like poison unfurling tenderly on the tongue before slowly corroding everything. Her ravenous mouth burned away my control, and when she bit me, she obliterated every boundary I’d set. I felt the heat pooling low in my gut, the dull throb behind my temples, the pulse of pain on my split lip.

She tasted like war. Like madness. Like something that didn’t submit to my nature—but mirrored it.

I fisted her hair tighter, wrenching her head back to reclaim distance—to seize back the damn reins. To put her back where she belonged: beneath my control. But she refused. She denied me even a breath, dragging me deeper into her fire. It was too much. She was too much—and she was fucking dangerous.

A rough gasp tore from me as I jerked away. My skin prickled as I took her in—swollen lips, dark glittering eyes, that look thattold me she knew exactly what she’d just done. She only laughed, low and taunting, licking my blood from her lips with relish.

"Don’t," I warned.

Slow as a dream, she sat up, gripping the hem of her dress and inching it higher. Centimeter by centimeter, her fingers trailed up her thigh. She kept going. Further. Further. She thought she had me figured out—as if I were just a man with dark thoughts and a hunger sated by sex.

"You don’t know what you’re playing with. Testing limits you don’t understand—ones you won’t survive crossing."

"That’s exactly what I want to see," she whispered. "Not the lawyer in the tailored suit. Not the man who flashes a charming smile at the right moment. I want the other one. Only then will you truly have me." A brief smile, cold and honest. "Flowers and romance, I can get that any—"

The monster in me bared its teeth. Her words cut off in a startled gasp as I seized her legs and dragged her harshly across the floor toward me. My hands plunged greedily into her neckline, desperate to know if her breasts felt as good as they looked. A growl ripped from me at the sensation—her full, firm tits, her hard nipples against my palms. They pressed into my grip, and Fiona let out a frustrated moan as I squeezed tighter. I pinched her stiff peaks between thumb and forefinger until she writhed—a mix of pain and pleasure so tangled she could barely tell them apart. The pain turns you on—you just don’t know it yet.

I pulled so hard that she arched up, following my hands until her face was mere inches from mine.

"You want it rough?" I rasped as she whimpered in pain. A crooked grin tugged at my lips. "You’ll get it rough. Get on your stomach."

For a moment, she just stared at me, weighing whether to obey. She fucking should.

"I won’t repeat myself. Do it or learn to obey."

A disbelieving laugh escaped her—but my gaze wiped it clean off her face.

Without another word, she rolled onto her stomach as ordered. The internal battle raging inside her, the way she hated herself for pushing me this far—it amused me.

There she lay. Face down, head turned away as if she could stop me from seeing how badly she wanted this. But I saw it anyway. In the way her fingers clawed into the carpet. In her shallow, rapid breaths. Slowly, I knelt behind her. My gaze raked over her back, over the sleek black dress clinging to her like a second skin. I lifted it, inch by torturous inch, baring her flesh until I saw the delicate fabric of her panties—black, sheer, the last shred of control separating her from me.

"Pretty," I murmured, more to myself than her, as I hooked my fingers into the waistband and dragged them down her hips at a maddening pace. The sound of my belt buckle made her flinch.

"What are you doing with that now?" Skepticism sharpened her voice.

I didn’t answer. I leaned forward, hauled her thighs up with one hand, and threaded the belt beneath them with the other, cinching her legs together.

"Are you insane?" She protested immediately. "What is this?"

"Tight... it’s going to be tight..." I bent so close to her ear she could feel my smirk against her skin. "I’m going to fuck you hard now, and you’re going to feel me so deep you won’t be able to think of anything but my cock."

My lips brushed feather-light over the delicate skin of her ass. The taste of her, the heat between us, the way she lay utterly helpless—I bent again, sank my fingers into her flesh, and… bit down.

My teeth dug deep as I pinned her neck, holding her still—like a predator marking its claim.

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