Page 52 of The Lost Child

I leaned down, pressing my body against him, my face buried into his neck. Canavar deeply inhaled my hair, then licked my face and lips! I moved to pull away from the odd sensation.

“Still now,” he ordered gruffly, and I melted against him. His fangs pressed against my neck, and I jerked back up just in time to avoid them as he lunged at me.

Canavar hissed at me, clicking his teeth together.

Shit,I thought.He’s still so wild. You’d do well to remember that.

I stayed up on him, determined to finish this.

Break the spell. Get him out. Fly or sail away.

I chanted the mantras over and over again as I matched my thrusts to his. As soon as this was over, I’d break the rest of his chains, and we’d be gone.

Eighteen

CANAVAR

The world was full of pain.

I’d thought I’d known what pain was and how to handle it until the one man said to aim for my wings. Unimaginable, white hot agony became the only thing that existed until I begged internally for death or unconsciousness to claim me, whichever came first.

And when death did stretch out her merciful arms toward me, she smelled like Nerissa. She looked like Nerissa.

It wasNerissa.

I couldn’t move—not to hold her close, nor to push her away. I was chained down, too paralyzed by the pain in my wings to do anything other than stare.

I had to speak. I had to say her name.

So I did.

I wasn’t allowed to speak, but it was the only thing I had. And Master wasn’t here. I should tell her to get far from here and go back to her blood witches and that it wasn’t safe. She was wasting time being here with me.

But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I said her name, and then soon enough she put me inside her, and such exquisite torment I’ve never known in my life. It was a new kind of torture, forcing my hips to move up and down without respite. This pain was foreign to me, and terrifying, because it made me crave it.

I needed more. I needed more.

This pain would kill me, wouldn’t it? It was clever—if I never wanted to stop, I would usher in my own death until my body gave out.

I didn’t care. I’d happily die with Nerissa on top of me. Her neck was close, so close, and I wanted to bite it. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t explain it, but I had to bite her.

Nerissa jerked back just as my fangs lunged forward, leaving my teeth clacking at nothing but empty air.

I wanted to scream in frustration.

Instead, I snapped my hips over and over again, intent on finishing whatever this was that she started. Because whatever it was, I knew that she was mine now. Nerissa obeyed my commands without hesitation, and a giddy, drunk feeling swelled around me. Never had I given the order. Never had I had control.

I wanted more. I craved more.

“What… is this?” I growled at her as her movements started to match mine; our bodies hit flush against each other and each new thrust uncoiled more and more of me.

She laughed crazily. “I’m fucking you, Canavar.”

I wished I could dig my fangs into her neck, or my claws into her skin. I wanted to leave my marks all over her body, so everyone knew she was mine.

“Sorry I held out on you. I’m going out on a limb here and trusting you not to kill me. Can you do that for me?”

What? Kill her? Nerissa drew a small bottle from chest, pausing in her rhythmic motions on top of me. My chest rumbled in displeasure, but my eyes were riveted to the bottle. She pulled out the cork stopper with her teeth, and spit the top away into the darkness. My mind jerked, realizing that’s how she’d freed my hands. I’d been in too much pain to register at the time. Her body pressed against mine as she leaned over to my right wrist, and carefully poured a drop into the lock of the chains around my legs.

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