Page 71 of Kingdom of Darkness and Dragons
I devoured her, drinking in her surrender. Each tremor that wracked her body was a victory, each helpless sob a hymn to my power. The whispers in my skull screamed for me to bite her, to finish it, but this was better. This was a slow, meticulous erasure of any trace of her other mates. I was branding her with my own scent, my own pleasure, marking her soul deep where no one else could reach.
When her climax ripped through her, a violent, consuming wave that left her boneless and sobbing against her restraints, I drank that too.
A long, keening wail tore from her throat, a sound of such pure, animal release that it resonated deep in my own bones. Her body convulsed, a violent, beautiful tremor that went onand on until she was left limp against her bonds, boneless and gasping.
I rose slowly, tasting her on my lips. She was marked, not with my teeth, but with my pleasure. She was mine. The defiant warrior was gone, replaced by this trembling, wrecked creature.
The sight sent another wave of savage satisfaction through me. She was marked, however temporarily, as mine.
Now, the voices screamed, a deafening chorus.Take her. Break her. Make her scream your name.
I tried to resist tried to fight it, but I couldn’t. Not with the taste of her on my tongue.
The whispers became a roar, a tidal wave of need that swept away the last vestiges of my control. I tore at the fastenings of my skirt, the leather falling to the ground as I stepped forward, my erection a testament to the hunger she stoked in me. The shadows holding her shifted, tilting her hips forward to grant me better access, a silent, eager offering.
My cock pressed against the wet heat between her thighs, and a shudder wracked my entire frame. I fought for a final shred of control, my teeth grinding together as the urge to bite, to sink my fangs into the soft flesh of her throat and seal the bond forever, became a physical agony.
Not yet. The thought was a splinter of reason in a maelstrom of lust. Not until I know.
But I would take this. I would take her. She was already mine.
26
Ishould be fighting this, I told myself. I should be screaming, fighting him, something. I most definitely should not be rubbing myself over his cock, but gods this man made me feel incredible. My arms strained against his unforgiving shadow bonds the secured my wrists and wrapped around my forearms, even as the ones that gripped my ankles pulled my legs further apart for him.
The thick, blunt head of him nudged against my entrance, slick with my own desire.
Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to clamp my legs shut, but the shadows held me open for him, and even if they hadn’t, I knew in my heart I would not have begged him to stop. Quite the opposite.
He looked down at me, his wide white eyes gleaming in the darkness with a lust so profound it was terrifying. I saw the battle in them, a flicker of something human warring with the predator that had hunted me through the night. For a heart-stopping second, I thought he might pull back.
But the predator won.
With a guttural groan that was more animal than man, he drove into me with a single, brutal thrust, tearing a cry from my throat that was equal parts pain and pleasure. He was huge, filling me, stretching me past my limits, and every inch of him inside me was a violation and at the same time a feeling of completion so intense I could hardly bear it.
He paused, buried deep inside me, his powerful body trembling with the effort of holding back. His forehead pressed against mine, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. The shadows squeezed my limbs tighter, as if sharing in his possessive triumph.
The shadows that held me seemed to tighten in response to his pleasure, locking me in place as he began to move. His rhythm was merciless, a savage, driving pace that was meant to break me, to erase every thought from my mind except for him. He was a force of nature, a storm I was trapped in the eye of, and all I could do was endure. But it was more than endurance. With every powerful thrust, a dark, coiling heat built low in my belly, a pleasure so intense it was agonizing. He watched my face, his strange eyes burning with a possessive fire, and I knew he could see it. He could see me coming undone for him. And he smiled. It was not a kind smile. It was the smile of a predator that had finally cornered its prey.
It wasn’t lovemaking. It was an invasion, a conquest. Each piston-like stroke was a word in a language my body understood even as my mind rebelled. Mine. Mine. Mine. His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as he set a punishing, frantic rhythm. I was nothing but sensation, pinned between the unyielding bark of the tree and the hard, driving force of my captor. The world narrowed to the feel of him inside me, the sound of our ragged breaths, and the sight of his face, a mask of savage concentration as he drove us both toward a precipice I was terrified to reach.
My hips bucked against his, a rhythm of their own that I couldn’t control, chasing a release I was ashamed to want. He grunted, a sound of guttural approval, and his pace quickened, becoming a frantic, desperate pounding that was aimed at my very soul. A sob broke from my lips as the pleasure coiled too tight, too fast, becoming indistinguishable from pain.
He bent his head, his mouth claiming mine in a savage kiss that stole what little breath I had left. He drank my moans, his tongue tangling with mine as his hips hammered into me, faster, deeper. The coiling heat in my belly tightened into an unbearable knot. My vision swam, the dark shapes of the trees blurring into a single, swirling vortex with his face at its centre. I was breaking, splintering into a thousand pieces under his relentless assault. A sob tore from my throat, a sound of utter surrender.
That was all the encouragement he needed.
With a final, brutal thrust that felt like it touched my very soul, he pushed me over the edge. My orgasm was a violent, consuming fire, ripping through me with a force that made my back arch and a scream tear from my lips, muffled against his mouth. The shadows holding me pulsed, tightening almost painfully as my body convulsed around him. He roared into my mouth, a sound of pure, triumphant possession, and I felt the hot flood of his release deep inside me, a final, undeniable brand.
For a long moment, he stayed buried within me, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax. He buried his face in my hair, his warm breath on my skin. The only sound was the rasp of our breathing in the sudden, ringing silence of the forest. The shadow bonds loosened, not releasing me, but slumping like tired serpents, and my body sagged against the tree, boneless and utterly spent. He had taken everything. And the most terrifying part was that I had given it all to him willingly. Hepulled out of me slowly, and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that left me gasping. He knelt before me once again, and like last time, he held me gently as his tongue roamed over my skin, cleaning up the evidence of his release on my thighs, then my own. It wasn’t long before I was coming again, but this wasn't the wild torrent like before but an intense almost soothing heat that spread though my body and left me trembling. He stood, licking his lips, and began to dress me. Once I was fully clothed, I felt the dark tendrils release me and without the support of the magic, I collapsed, my legs giving way as I slid down the rough trunk of the tree to land in a heap on the cold ground. I was shaking and broken. He stood over me, his chest heaving, his strange eyes unreadable in the moonlight.
Grabbing a branch, I tried to pull myself up, but then his arms were under me and he was lifting me.
“I don't need you to carry me, I can walk,” I insisted, though both of us knew I was lying. He pulled me in close against his chest, and started back the way we’d come, back to the camp I’d left him in. My mind felt as exhausted as my body, and I had no fight left in me tonight. I laid my head against the warmth of his bare chest and let the rhythm of his smooth stride lull me to sleep.
The rain had been falling for three days straight, turning the mountain paths into treacherous rivers of mud and loose stone. Each step was a careful negotiation between my boots and the slick ground, and more than once I'd felt my captor's steadying hand on my arm when I started to slip.
We'd settled into a strange rhythm over the past two weeks, he and I. Each morning I woke in his arms, my body still humming from his thorough attention the night before. Each day wewalked in companionable silence, the leather cord around my throat a constant reminder of my captivity even as it felt less and less like imprisonment. Each evening he would find us shelter—a cave, an overhang, once even the ruins of what might have been a shepherd's hut—and we would share our simple meal before he claimed me again with gentle, devastating certainty.
