Page 80 of Destined for Shadows
“It is perfect,” he promised.
She swallowed. “Even after all those other women?”
“You’re the only one I care about right now.”
“Good.” She adjusted herself underneath him. “Because I want tonight to be amazing.”
Bartol tied the last knot, some of his old confidence returning. “If I do my job right, it won’t be for only one night.”
Cori gave him a challenging look. “We’ll see.”
Her words strengthened his resolve to make this work. Bartol wanted to take this woman to new heights and show her that not all men were bad. This wasn’t only about him, but also her. She needed to learn trust again. Perhaps if they each gave themselves over to the pleasure and let their past pains go, they’d gain something even greater from the experience.
Bartol switched the bedside lamps to the lowest settings so that they left the room in a soft glow. Cori’s gaze followed him everywhere he went. He stopped next to the bed and kicked his shoes off, enjoying the way her eyes stared at his chest. It had driven him crazy the way she looked at him before, but only because it felt like torment at the time. She’d been tempting and taunting him when he thought he could never have her. Now that she was bound and completely open to him with her legs spread apart, he planned to take full advantage.
Bartol put a knee on the mattress and hovered over her. He waited until she shifted in restlessness before making his first move. It was important that he feel fully in control or this moment would not last. He took a finger and slid it between her legs, finding her dripping wet.
She arched into his touch. “Oh, shit!”
“No talking,” he warned.
Cori clamped her lips shut.
Bartol leaned forward and brushed his lips against her neck, feeling her shudder. He kissed, licked, and nibbled his way across her throat and over to her delicate ears. To add to the effect, he ran a hand up her body, stroking and touching, but never staying in one place long. He enjoyed watching the way she strained against the ropes and how the passion in her eyes grew just for him. She was giving him so much that he was determined to make this a night she would never forget.
Taking stock of himself, he was grateful no dark thoughts had hit yet. So far, so good.
He moved his lips down to her breasts to suckle and play with them next. They were full and easily filled his hands. It made him wonder what they’d looked like when they’d been filled with milk, and part of him wished he had the ability to give her another child. That destiny was not meant to be for them, but he could allow himself the simple pleasure of imagining it. He continued his path down her body until he’d touched and memorized every part of her.
Having her lay there before him, it was as if she was a canvas and his hands were the paint brush. He had no intention of leaving her exactly as he found her. She would be changed because the one thing he’d mastered over his long centuries was how to make himself the center of a woman’s world. For the next hour, he touched and fondled her without mercy. Cori grew so wet that she filled his mouth when he drank from her, and her orgasmic cries rent the air.
She called out his name. Bartol’s chest tightened and dark thoughts began to invade. Unaware of his dilemma, Cori mumbled words of how amazing she felt. His body shook with the effort to hold back the tidal wave of terrible images filling his head. He pulled away to grab a cloth, and with apology in his gaze, gingerly slipped it over her mouth. She accepted it without complaint. It took several minutes after that to get himself under control and resume touching her. He had to take things more slowly at first, but his previous confidence steadily returned as he brought Cori’s body to new heights of pleasure once more. It saddened him that he’d once used words to seduce and enjoyed talk during sex play, but now it only brought him pain.
Eventually, the moment came when he couldn’t wait any longer and feared spilling his seed before he’d had the chance to enter her body. He was amazed he’d held on as long as he did, but he’d feared if he didn’t make himself completely comfortable with Cori, then he wouldn’t have been able to handle the most important part.
He moved to the side of the bed and dropped his pants, stepping out of them. Cori’s gaze fell to the thick member between his legs, and her eyes widened. Nephilim were not built small in any way. Bartol worried she might become too scared to take him, but then she widened her thighs as far as they could go. It was her way of giving him final permission. Still, he felt guilty about keeping her mouth bound when it removed her ability to communicate if necessary.
Bartol dropped the gag to around her neck. “Do not speak unless you need me to stop, understand?”
She nodded.
Then he covered his lips with hers, pleased when she kissed him back with the same intensity. With her mouth, she told him what she couldn’t say with words. He felt how much she wanted him with every graze of her lips and brush of her tongue. This woman might be mortal and weaker than him physically, but she had the power to completely overwhelm him. He could think of nothing except her and the welcome body she provided.
Bartol pressed between her thighs, angling his member toward her entrance. Cori was more than wet enough to handle him, but he still moved into her carefully—one slow, agonizing inch at a time. She moaned, lifting her hips for easier access. He drove in all the way until their bodies were locked and then he froze.
The memories crashed over him.
Monstrous women with horns and distorted faces laughed as they cut and burned him in every manner possible. They took pleasure in his cries of pain. All they wanted was to make him suffer and beg for mercy they would never give. Bartol clenched his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening now, not now!
The real woman underneath him moved. “Look at me.”
“I can’t,” he said, voice pained.
“It’s me, not them.” Cori lifted enough to graze her lips against his jaw. “I would never hurt you.”
He shook as the memories continued unabated. He was inside of her, but he couldn’t see anything except the visions Kerbasi had skillfully created. Bartol felt the sting of whip lashes, the sharp pains from spears being pierced into his body, and the tongues dripping acid that licked their way across his most intimate parts. He shuddered and shook, trapped in the nightmare.
Cori whispered soothingly to him. He tried to concentrate on her voice and follow it, but it wasn’t easy. Bartol had never had an anchor before and didn’t know how to use it. He gave it all he had, though, and bit by bit, the visions started to fade.
