Page 162 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody
“Go on,” I say, baring my neck to his mouth, to those sharp teeth.
I wait for his canines to sink into my flesh, but he doesn’t do it immediately.
His hand ventures to the aching underside of my breast, just above my broken ribs. “Breathe, Rhianelle.”
I hear him breathe in my hair. “You’ve seen terrible things today?”
I nod. Scary things I may never forget my whole life. War is a terrible, cruel thing.
His fingers venture to my inner thigh and I gasp from the sudden thrill.
“It’s been a long day. Neither of us is in the mood for this,” he murmurs, his tone calm. “But I have to do it. Do you understand?”
Nervousness pokes at my resolve, but I need this.
“I trust you,” I tell him.
“Good, now just listen and focus on my voice.” I hear him mutter against my temple. “This is a distraction, so you won’t focus on the bite. It won’t help with the initial burn but afterwards, once the venom starts circulating, you’ll feel better.”
His fingers draw lazy circles on my inner thigh, feeling the slick wetness in between them. I may not die on the battlefield today, but I’m going to die of embarrassment.
He curls two fingers on my lace undergarments, tugging it to the side. His movement is more methodical than passionate, but my body is still responsive to his touch.
Svenn slides two fingers in and arousal spikes into my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I dig my fingers in the powerful muscles of his forearm. “Svenn…”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
I nod and he starts thrusting those wicked fingers in earnest. My eyes flutter shut and I exhale. It’s too much and not enough, all at the same time.
I lay my head on his chest, letting him take charge. If he says I need this, then I need this. Pleasure crests in me as he picks up speed.
“Keep going, please,” I beg him.
He’s building me up with every stroke and I am utterly at his mercy. But there’s something so freeing in the way he takes control of me. The throbbing ache between my legs nearly drowns the pain in my ribs.
Svenn adds his thumb to my torment, moving it against my clit in circular motions. A small whimper falls from my lips. I’m so desperate for more friction my hips start moving, seeking for my release.
“That’s it,” he praises, trying to bring me to the heights of pleasure. “Ride my hand like you did with my face last night.”
The tent is filled with my little helpless sounds. I’m too light-headed to be embarrassed by it. His thumb rubs me in a harsh stroke, pressing until I buck in the motion.
Sparks of pleasure cascade through me, lighting up my body like fireworks. I come fast and hard, just as he intended. My body arches and my head drops against his shoulder. I am still shaking from the aftershocks of my release when he suddenly grasps my chin, turning my face to the side. A soft cry leaves me at the sudden movement. I feel the scrape of his teeth against the nape of my neck, his final hesitation before he sinks them into me.
“Oh gods,” I gasp at the sharp sensation of the bite. The promised pain doesn’t start immediately, but when it comes, it arrives like a raging tempest.
I try to withstand the torture of the liquid flame moving through my body. But it’s too unbearable. I take it back. I don’t want to be in this torture.
“It’s too much,” I exhale slowly.
To say the pain is excruciating is to make light of whatever it is that is happening to me.
My neck is on fire. “Svenn…” I cry out.
It hurts so bad it feels I could die from this. I try to wriggle free from him, punching, kicking, but his strong, muscular arms remain unmoved. My strength is leaving me.
“Please, don’t hurt me.” Unshed tears burn in my eyes.
He wraps my hair around his fist, drawing my head back for better claim. Every bone and muscle in me locks up from the pinprick of tiny needles poking on me.
