Page 42 of The Colour of Revenge
Instead, she leans in—pressing into the blade, testing me, tempting me.
Fuck.
I jerk the knife back, not because I'm afraid of hurting her—but because the idea of seeingherblood makes something inside me recoil.
She does it again. A taunt.
I throw the knife to the floor.
The smirk that spreads across her face is pure delight, a silent declaration of victory.
"You won't hurt me," she whispers.
My restraint shatters.
I drag her against me, crushing my mouth to hers, kissing her like I'm drowning, and she's the only thing keeping me afloat.
"Princess," I growl between kisses, my lips bruising against hers. "I need you. Right now."
"Yes," she gasps. "Please."
I back her against the wall, pressing every inch of my body into her, trapping her there like I'm terrified she'll disappear.
Her breathing is erratic, matching my own, filling the space between us with something hot, desperate, electric.
I grip her chin, tilting her face up to mine.
And fuck—her eyes. Blown-wide pupils, dark with hunger, need—mine.
"Are you wet for me, baby?" I rasp.
The whimper that escapes her throat is enough to make my cock throb painfully.
I don't wait for her answer.
My hand slips beneath the waistband of her leggings, fingers gliding down, teasing, exploring where she's softest, hottest, most fucking addictive.
"Nate," she gasps, her voice raw with need.
I groan. She's soaked.
So fucking wet that my fingers slide through her heat with devastating ease.
My mouth crashes back to hers as I circle her clit, teasing, tormenting, driving her higher before plunging two fingers deep inside her. Her body clenches around me—pulsing, perfect.
I imagine it's my cock filling her instead, her tight walls squeezing me, dragging me under, and I nearly lose it from the thought alone.
"Nate… please," she moans, her voice wrecked, needy.
I keep working on her, my thumb rolling over her swollen bud, my fingers curling, stroking—a relentless rhythm.
She shudders violently, her release slamming into her like a fucking tidal wave. Her thighs tremble, her body tensing, her pussy gripping my fingers like she never wants to let go.
I won't stop.
Not until I've wrung every last second of pleasure from her, not until she's boneless against me, her breath heavy, her body limp with ecstasy. I work her through her orgasm like I'm a one-man orchestra determined to nail the grand finale.
When her eyes finally flutter open, she looks at me like I just single-handedly ended world hunger.
