Page 31 of Dark Ink

“I… I need to go,” I said, my voice sounding like I hadn’t used it for years.

“You need to come…” Rian’s hands slid onto my thighs and held me down, held me in place like nails to a cross, his touch sending another wave of need through me, “…all over my face…” his eyes not once flinched from mine, “with your thighs over my shoulders. With my fingers deep in your cunt and your ass. Your taste on my tongue.”

I tried not to squirm, I really did. Tried not to let my body react the way it did to his filthy words. But I was leaking all over this lectern. If I moved now, I’d leave a wet streak of my shame.

This was all my fault, getting myself into this mess. I couldn’t control myself. I was entangled now. I was caught in his snare and fighting was only making it worse.

Still, I fought. “I—we shouldn’t.”

I tried to pull his fingers off my thighs, but instead of freeing myself, my fingers became entangled with his.

Rian just looking at me with that burrow-deep-into-my-soul stare. Like he saw me—all of me—and desperately wanted what he saw.

“Fuck ‘shouldn’t’,” he said. “Your job as an artist, is to say ‘I can’ and ‘I will.”

“I…can’t.” My words sounded weak even to me.

“Then why did you come…” he chuckled, “why did you make me come down your throat in front of all those students?”

“I…I just wanted to repay you. We’re even now. It’s done.”

I went to hop off but all I did was move closer to him. I gasped as my core pressed against his hips.

The hunger behind Rian’s blue eyes illuminated them like he wasn’t quite human. All dazzling, refracted light. All sharp jewel edges. All angry seas.

“Just a repayment, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So if I reach under this skirt, I won’t find you wet?”

I swallowed a moan.

I didn’t dare more—dare breathe—as his fingers slid up my thigh, until his fingers slid in the sinful shame that coated my inner thighs.

He groaned low in his throat and I felt it vibrate all through my body. “Eithne…you are soaking.”

His fingers climbed farther, brushed the creases where my thigh met my pussy.

“Fuck,” he hissed, he choked, he cursed, “you didn’t wear any…”

His other hand released my thigh, only to grab my neck, my chin, my face and hold it inches from his. He forced me to face him, forced me to stare right back into his eyes.

“Mark my words, Eithne, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to mark your ass with my palm. I bet you’d love it. I bet you’d beg like a whore.”

Heat flooded the space between my legs and I repressed a moan. I was a whore. I was his whore but for some reason I liked it.

“I bet you’d even let me lick your ass. I bet I’d have to hold your hips down to the ground as you tried to fuck my face because you wanted more.”

I let out a groan as his words seared my insides like flames, as the wicked thing inside me took over.

“Yes—”

“Yes, what?” he demanded. His fingers traced me, my slick folds yielding to him as he found my clit.

My chest was stuttering. I was racked with guilt, with shame, with desire. I opened my mouth, but my lips floundered. Rian’s fingers never moved, never circled me as he promised he’d do with his tongue. He wouldn’t give me the satisfaction until I gave him his.

“Yes, I want to fuck your face.”

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