Page 106 of Vengeance Becomes Her

She kissed him roughly before sitting back, waiting for his direction. She knew this wasn’t his natural demeanor, but she loved how he would assume dominance when she needed it. And she needed it now more than ever. To know hewas in control.

He stood, pulling her leggings and underwear off then the rest of his clothes. “Turn over.”

She obliged eagerly.

He pushed her knees forward, raising her ass in the air. The cold breeze of his absence coasted across her, but he returned before she could object.

He squeezed the thick flesh, running the flat of her favorite blade across the wide expanse of her cheeks before pressing the point into one of the dimpled spots.

She gasped in anticipation, her blood thrumming through her hot and heady. She gripped the sheets, breathing heavily into the pillow.

“Here?”

“Yes, please.” Her voice was thick and needy.

“I could get used to you begging.”

“Don’t.” There was no threat to it, she was too wrapped up in the motion of his hand.

He rubbed it over the plump skin of her ass, providing warmth before dragging the blade several inches across. He dropped the dagger gripping her cheeks tightly, forcing the blood to trickle out.

She released a muffled groan as the air cooled the blood that now rushed toward her thigh. His tongue intercepted the descent and traveled north until it pressed along the cut.

She was panting already, and he wasn’t even inside her.

“Your taste is enough to make a man insatiable,” he groaned against her skin. “Would you have me starve, Rhiannon?”

“No.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

“On your back and spread your legs.”

His warm breath heated her for a moment as he took her in before his tongue flicked out in one slow lick that had her toes curling and hands fisting the blankets.

He groaned into her and then his last bit of control snapped. He tugged her further down the bed. Her thighs were flush with his chest as he put her legs over his shoulders. And then he proceeded to eat the soul out of her body. Tongue lapping. Teeth nipping. He ate her pussy like it was his last meal. In a way it was.

She disappeared into his desperation. She was lost to him. He owned the moans and gasps that left her lips. He stole her screams greedily as she came apart. And he wasn’t ready to give her back control, even as he placed the soles of her feet back on the bed.

She’d barely caught her breath before she felt the kiss of cool metal at the apex of her thighs. She leaned up on her elbows, eyebrows raised.

His pupils had disappeared into his irises. Hard obsidian looked out at her hungrily. She wasn’t afraid but she was surprised. She couldn’t see the blade in his hand over her stomach, but she could feel the weight of it. She could feel the tingle of desire as her body flooded with adrenaline. His gaze left hers as he pushed a finger inside her. He lifted the blade in the air, running his now wet finger on it. It gleamed as he raised it to her lips.

“Lick it clean.”

Her lips parted with the command. Her tongue darted out eagerly reveling in the bite of metal and the distinct taste of herself on the blade. She was dripping for him. Clenching on air. She shifted restlessly below him, needing him to end this torture. To take her one last time.

Before she could capture his lips, he was back at the end of the bed. The faintest touch of the sharp tip traced around her opening. There was no pressure to cause harm but there was a faint sting that made her back arch off the bed. His lips were soothing and caressing in an instant. His tongue delved inside her and brought her to her end once again.

As she struggled for breath, he crawled over her. She could taste herself on him as their tongues met. She drank in every last sip of him.

“I need you. All of you.”

His breath was ragged. His hand tightened in her hair as he obliged, lining himself up at her entrance before thrusting into her to the hilt. The pain was a relief. She sighed into his mouth as their lips connected once again.

He thrust into her punishingly over and over again. Forcing her to cry out for him. But eventually he melted into her, his hips moving languidly as he shifted in and out of her.

The tenderness was the real pain she found. His emotions were pulsing through his body and into her. Imprinting upon her soul with each meeting of their bodies. He drove into her with intent. Rhiannon knew he wanted to ensure that she knew that he wouldn’t leave her if he had a choice. That he loved her, too. That he was part of her and she him.

And because she knew that with every fiber of her being, she couldn’t let him sacrifice himself to try to save her. She wouldn’t. She would face Silas and the Volskruga alone. She would end this alone. She would likely die alone.

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