Page 163 of Blood Day
He shifted his hips and slipped inside me in a thrust that had me arching on instinct. There was no foreplay. No stretching me to accept him. Just a securing of our bodies as he continued to stare deeply into my eyes.
“I’ve lived a very long life.” His fingers curled into my hair, creating a fist that he used to guide my lips to his. “And no one has ever provoked me in this manner before, leaving me without a concise path forward. You make me crave heaven and hell, Lily. It’s almost as though you’ve bewitched me simply by existing.”
Anger and admiration fought for purpose in each statement.
But it was the latter that won as his mouth claimed mine.
It wasn’t rough or harsh.
Just a sweet kiss.
Underlined with dangerous intent.
Because his mind kept formulating ways to kill me, which only seemed to make him that much more desperate to fuck me.
The air misted around us as he teleported us out of the pool and to something soft nearby.
A bungalow, I deciphered from his thoughts.
There were gauzy curtains here that kept us hidden while still putting our silhouettes on display.
Anyone who walked by would see him fucking me against the plush, wicker-framed bed inside.
But he didn’t care about being discovered.
And neither did I.
I only cared about the slow slide of hard length pulling out to the tip before driving into me again.
It hurt in the best way.
Like he was stabbing me with pleasure.
“If I wait any longer, I don’t think I’ll be able to kill you,” he confided. “I’m not even sure that I can now. I’m too selfish for it.”
“Is it selfish to crave life?” I asked him. “To desire this intensity and want to experience more of it?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m selfish, too,” I breathed, bowing up into him as he shoved all the way in again. “I never want to stop.”
He kissed me again, this time with more passion, his heart seeming to beat right against my lips.
Every part of him was open to me.
His mind. His soul. The very core of his being.
He wanted me to take it, master it, and make him mine.
Because he had every intention of doing the same to me.
The thoughts of death fled, replaced by renewed plans. Imaginings of the now. Fantasies he longed to fulfill.
Fucking me in the desert.
Taking me against one of the pillars.
Claiming my ass in the shower.
