He squeezed her tighter, her skin splaying between the grip of his fingers. “Are you telling me you don’t want to?”

“Of course not.” She laughed, the huskiness of itsurprising her.

“Then don’t worry about what I said yesterday.”

She bit her nailcontemplating.

“Rhiannon, we’re both adults. I need this.”

He waited for her to consent, then crushed her lips in a nearly painful kiss, sweeping his thumbover the reddened skin before he shifted her off of him. Within seconds he was up and out of the room.

When he returned, he was nearly panting. And when he saw her, sitting there at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and naked with just the boots on, he leaned back against the door for support.

“Rhiannon.” Her name was a desperate plea on his lips.

She twirled the tip of her dagger against her fingertip, arching her brow as she set her attention on him. His face was pained as he battled with the need to touch her and the restraint he was trying to hold onto.

The right side of her lips quirked up as she uncrossed her legs, allowing him to get a better look at her. His eyes darkened and his lips parted.

Pleased with his reaction, she beckoned him forward with a curl of her finger that swooped downward. “On your knees, Tristain.”

He was a man hypnotized, dropping to his knees and crawling, stopping just in front of her. Tristain slowly drank in every inch of her as if he had been dying of thirstfor this. Her.

She opened her mouth to make another command, but then he wrapped his strong hands around the back of her knees, fingers stroking against the soft material of her boots and the skin peeking out above. She watched for a moment in awe of how the simplest touch set chills across her skin.

Tristain smiled at her reaction before leaning down to plant a kiss on the inside of her left knee, then right. He maintained eye contact with her the entire time as he moved his lips languidly up each uncovered inch of skin until he reached her upper thigh.

Rhiannon held her breath, waiting for his next move. At this point, she was so transfixed, she’d forgotten what game they’d even been playing at. She froze as he ran his hands up under her thighs until he got to the widest part and lifted them ever so slightly, opening her further. He flexed his hands luxuriating in the movement of her soft skin and the way she filled his hands.

She loved how he seemed to revel in gripping onto her, appreciating the plumpness of her body. She ran her hand back through his hair, gripping the thick strands as she let her nails drag against his scalp.

Tristain’s eyes rolled back, lids flickering shut and a groan passing his lips. “Tell me what you want, Rhiannon. You’re in control.”

His eyes opened at the touch of steel against his throat. She bit her lip, gaze frozen on the point where the tip indented his skin.

“Do it. I know you want to cutme. So, do it.”

“Tristain, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You do, but you won’t.” He pressed forward just slightly, but it was enough to cause a small dot of blood to bloom in the most breathtaking shade of red she’d ever seen.

He rose carefully onto his knees so he was taller, leaning closer to her, encouraging her.

Rhiannon wrapped her free hand around his throat, just under his jaw for better control. He tilted his head back ever so slightly but paused.

“Not here,” she whispered against his sensitive skin. “Take off your pants and trade me places.” Rhiannon moved to the floor and brought her dagger down on the top of his thigh. Easing into it, she applied pressure to the tip of the blade. When he didn’t flinch away, she dragged it down, creating a vertical cut. A thin line of blood trickled slowly down the length of the slit capturing all of her attention. And then her lips were on the cut, licking it. She let the metallic taste linger on her tongue before she pressed her lips against it once more.

Tristain gripped the back of her neck and brought her lips level to his. Their heavy breathing mingled together in a symphony of desire before their lips collided.

He didn’t recoil from her in disgust, he met her with equal fervor, inviting her tongue into his mouth. And then his arms were moving under her, lifting her up and onto the bed.

With the moonlight cascading through the window, she could see the blood smeared across his lips. It lit her entire body on fire, and she couldn’t keep her hands off him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching into him as he pressed against her.

She was weak for him, and she knew it, but she didn’t care. She wanted this, needed it like the air that kept her breathing. When their lips crashed together again, her mind went blank and she couldn’t remember why she’d beenavoiding this.

He wrapped her leg around his waist, sliding his hand up, where he aggressively grabbed a handful of her ass which he palmed as if he owned her. And she liked it.

Rhiannon needed to feel his bare skin against her. She slid her fingers under his shirt enjoying the broad expanse of his body that felt protective and overwhelming at the same time. Tristain sat up allowing her to remove his shirt.