Page 87 of Corrupt Shadows

Lorcan leans even closer, until his nose is almost touching mine. My lips part, my thighs clenching as I tilt my head up, the curve of my chin brushing his. “I don’t want you to wake me,” I whisper against his lips, and a primal growl sounds from his throat.

His mouth widens into a sadistic grin. “Is that what you were dreaming about?”

He eyes my bracelet, and I quickly drag my wrist under the water. I can’t have him force me to take it off, although I’m surprised he hasn’t so far. His thumb grazes my cheek, and I lean into his touch. Maybe Ezra was lying, but I must know for sure. I reach up and touch the side of his mask, desperate to pull it off. It’s only covering from the bridge of his nose and up. If there is a branding, it would be right there. I’d know his true name, just like my family wanted. They must have found out. How else could he have ended up here?

Pain jolts through my fingers and into my wrist when he grabs my hand and pulls back. He shouts, “Never do that again!”

I press my back against the porcelain. His reaction tells me everything. It isn’t to scare me, like I initially thought. He’s hiding something. “Ezra was right,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Ezra?” His eyes darken to black, and shadows rip away from his body like ribbons. “The dream,” he says, emitting a heavy growl. “What did he do to you?” Madness swirls in his irises, and the untapped insanity behind them has never been so prominent, his stare chilling me to the bone.

“You care about what he did to me?” I ask when he doesn’t question what Ezra told me.

Claws tear through his fingers. “Did he touch you?”

“We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re asking.”

His shadows douse the flames of the candles, delving us into darkness. Before I can stand, both of his hands are around my throat. “But you were aroused.”

I wait for the pain, for him to punish me, but instead, he releases his grip. He storms out of the bathroom before I can say another thing to him, then he’s gone.

My jaw slacks as I stare around the empty, dark room. He didn’t care what Ezra said, only that he turned me on, which was involuntary. It was nothing like when I’m with Lorcan. I should have said that.

Would he have wanted to hear it?

THIRTY-SEVEN

Lorcan

I will erase every whisper of arousal Ezra created in my witch and replace it with my brand of lust. I walk into the bedroom and find her asleep, still in her towel from the bath. The smell of lavender and chamomile reaches me from her empty mug on the nightstand. I climb into bed and will her into a deeper slumber. The bracelet might keep me from reading her thoughts, but it doesn’t stop my powers from forcing her mind to stay asleep.

The need to savagely mark her again boils in my blood. I will not allow her wet cunt to stain the sheets with arousal for my brother. Tattooing my little witch was not enough. It will never be enough. I stab my fingers into my hair and pull on the back of my head. My muscles tense, and I force the maddening thoughts away.

My gaze flickers to her slumbering form. She sighs deeply and rolls from her side onto her back. I wrap each of her limbs in a length of shadow and cinch them tight. Her legs part, and she spreads open beautifully for me. The warmth from the purple hellfire caresses my backside as I take in her bound form.

I rub my neck and sigh. How she ended up my counterpart in this life is beyond me. We shouldn’t work, but we do. Both of our edges are jagged, sharp, and stained with blood-drenched pain. But that might be why we fit better than expected. We will just put them together by force, breaking off sections from both of our pieces until they lie flush.

Love in storybooks is falsified. It is painted to resemble the ideal relationship. But where is the passion? The bone-deep, need-to-carve-my-name-into-your-skin obsession? Who wants perfection when blood stains and screams are common ground for us? I don’t want perfectly paired pieces of a puzzle. I want the puzzle piece that falls out of the box, then lies forgotten under the sofa. Because the forgotten ones caged in their own destruction are beautifully broken.

My Evie is beautifully broken. And in the wreckage of her trauma that she constantly pushes to the back of her mind, there’s inexplicable beauty. What we have is something unique, but she has to be stronger to survive this so that we have a chance to explore how to break each other apart.

I breathe in through my nose, then out through my mouth several times, willing calmness to soothe some of my rage. I strip out of my clothes and leave them in a pile at the foot of the bed. Her helpless display of vulnerability is breathtaking. I can do anything I want to her, and she won’t be able to stop me. It’s a heady feeling. My vision darkens as intense need surges directly to my already-erect cock.

I scale her body and rub my maskless face against her core. I groan loudly when her arousal coats my nose and mouth. But is this slick for me or him? A snarl tears from my throat, then I pierce her tender inner thigh with my shifted teeth. Mine.

Evie twitches as her body reacts to the pain, but her mind sleeps on. I suck on the wound and lap up the blood pooling along the bite mark.

My need is an unstoppable force, but I know she needs to be prepped before I rail her sleeping body into the mattress.

I lean forward and nibble on her labia, then moan into her folds. Her vanilla-honey flavor bursts across my tongue. I could feast on her for days, spread her out like my own personal buffet, and drink directly from her core. I pop two fingers in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the digits and making sure they’re coated in my saliva. I pull them out from between my lips and thrust them into her dripping center. Her frame jostles with each of my strokes, her breasts wobbling enticingly. I add a third but don’t stop to let her body adjust to the additional intrusion. Her cunt grips my fingers, nearly sucking them off and begging to be filled deeper and fuller.

“Fuck, little witch. You make me want to decimate this delicate body.” I sit back on my heels and pinch her hardened nipples until her body jerks. “You allow my madness an outlet, and as a reward, I will use and pleasure your body in every way imaginable,” I say, knowing she can’t hear me but wanting to speak it aloud anyway. “I want every single part of you. You are mine. Only mine. You always were.”

I need to feel the heat of her wrapped around my dick immediately. My brain throbs as lust overtakes my every thought. I kneel between her spread thighs, fisting my cock and lining it up with her needy cunt. I grab her hips and lift her as far off the bed as her shadow bindings allow.

The breath is stolen from my lungs when I thrust into her opening. She feels like every wet dream and fantasy I’ve ever had all rolled into one. She is mine. No one will tempt her again. I roll my hips, thrusting into her without a thought other than intense need. The canopy above the bed sways each time I dip into her.

I blow out a sharp breath, slowing my pace before I forget my purpose for tonight. I pull out until just my tip is wedged inside her. My teeth grind together as I attempt to contain my out-of-control lust. I’m not sure if I like this hold she has on me. Yet it’s oddly soothing to know my obsession ensures my pleasure will only come from one source now.

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