Page 62 of Hush Darling
“Do you know what I want, darling?”
“No,” she whispered, thinking she once had an idea what men wanted, but now he convinced her she knew absolutely nothing about such things.
His hand slid over her shoulder and between her breasts to flatten over her pounding heart. “I want your darkness,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a velvet rasp that sent shivers dancing down her spine. “I want the parts you hide from everyone else, including yourself. I want the jagged pieces of your soul that scare you most. That’s what I’ll steal from you tonight, piece by piece, until there’s nowhere left to hide.”
“You’re depraved,” she rasped, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Perhaps we all are.” He slowly withdrew his hand. “Including you.”
Something came over her, and she tried to bolt from the chair, but he slammed her back down, his lips smashing hard over hers as he forced his tongue into her mouth. She bit at his lips and dragged her nails down his face, forcing him to draw back when he tasted blood.
He dabbed his lip and looked at his fingertips, then chuckled. “That wasn’t very civilized.”
Her mind was a whirlwind of fear, fury, and wild curiosity. She couldn’t willingly give herself to him, yet she wanted him to take her. She wanted him to take everything—her pain, her frustration, and even her choice—until she was free of culpability and nothing more than a raw nerve of sensation incapable of shame.
“Shall we try that again?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. This time, when he sealed his mouth to hers, he held her hair in an unbreakable grip, anticipating her attack and capturing her arms before she laid a hand on him. He forced his kiss on her with punishing possessiveness, and she whimpered, softening under his command.
He didn’t kiss like Peter. He kissed like he wanted to own her soul, like she was the fountain of life, and he wanted to breathe in the very essence of her existence until nothing was left. She moaned as she found his rhythm and accepted his possession willingly. It was more pleasant if she didn’t challenge him.
“That’s a good little slut.”
There was no escaping his claim. Her back pressed into the seat as he drove his tongue deeper, taking what he wanted.
He released her hair and held her by the throat. Her nails dug into his arms, but that only egged him on. “Show me your greedy side, darling.”
Disappointed in herself, she tried to turn away, but he caught her jaw.
“I can tell a filthy little slut when I taste one. Are you going to be a frightened little mouse forever?”
Something awakened inside of her, and she stopped retreating. Animal-like aggression tore through her, and she lunged forward, shoving her fingers into his thick, dark hair and becoming the aggressor.
He wrenched her head back, and she gasped. “You want to touch me?”
“Yes.” She not only wanted to touch him, she wanted to break him with the same intent he planned to break her.
“Beg.”
“Pardon?”
“Beg.”
“I don’t?—”
“Don’t play refined with me. I see you for exactly what you are. Here, you’re just flesh and blood like everyone else. Beg me to touch you, and I will. Beg me for any depraved thing you want, and I’ll gladly deliver you into darkness. But first, you have to ask—and you better make it pretty.”
He wanted to humiliate her. And he might have if she wasn’t so drunk on temptation and lust. He’d triggered her competitive nature, which was the first step in stripping away her inhibitions.
If she wanted him to give in to her, she must first surrender something to him. The game had to start somewhere. “Please?”
“Please, what?”
“Please…” Was she honestly going to ask him for the things he promised? Perhaps this was the start of the depravity he threatened. She couldn’t think about how others might judge her. She could only think of her survival. Beyond these walls, no one would ever know what she said to him in private. “Please, kiss me some more.”
He growled and took her mouth again, ripping open her shirt and sending buttons pinging across the floor. Cool air teased her skin, and she gasped when his hot palm cupped her breast possessively.
“Open your legs.” His knee wedged between hers, forcing her legs to open wider. His fingers groped and fondled, learning her at a pace she couldn’t fully follow.
