The Darkest Torment
Page 63

He licked his lips, as if he could already taste her. “Your little nipples are desperate for me, aren’t they?”
“Desperate...aching.” She gripped the top of the chair with one hand, still holding on to his shaft with the other—never going to let go. She slanted forward, placing one of her nipples at his mouth. An offering.
An offering he accepted. His tongue emerged, taunting the needy bud. First hard and fast, then slow and easy. The ache between her legs only worsened. Or got better. She soaked his glove and even her panties. How naughty that was. He was fully dressed while she wore a thin scrap of cloth he’d easily moved aside.
He suckled on her, incredible, world-shaking pleasure consuming her. Soon, remaining still was no longer an option. She began to ride his fingers all over again, arching forward, back, forward again.
As he switched his attention to her other nipple, he rasped, “You are made of ambrosia, surely.”
Always so complimentary. She might never get enough of him.
She pumped her hand up and down his shaft, his breathing becoming shallow. The faster she moved, the more curses that left him. Soon, a fine sheen of perspiration glossed his skin. He was close.
She ran his earlobe between her teeth. “Maybe one day, if you behave, I’ll take your cock in my mouth and suck you dry. Would you like that?”
He grunted a response, his thumb returning to work her feverishly. Pleasure fogged her mind, such intense pleasure; she reached a point of no return for the second time. The house could have crumbled. An army could have marched inside. The world could have ended, and she wouldn’t have cared. Only satisfaction mattered. Hers...and surprisingly enough, his.
Need more.
“Take your fingers out of me,” she commanded. For once, she would be the one issuing orders.
Not that he heeded her. He only surged those fingers deeper.
She almost couldn’t bring herself to utter her next words. “I want to feel you come against me.”
His fingers slid out a second later. She groaned at the emptiness he left behind, but pressed herself against his erection and rubbed...rubbed...
His gaze hot on hers, he brought his fingers to his mouth and hungrily licked away her desire. The sight...the very thought that he was taking a part of her inside himself...the sweetest part...she flew over the edge, rubbing him harder, rubbing him faster, using her core to kindle his climax and stoke her own. Suddenly he roared her name.
He cupped her ass, his fingers digging into her giving flesh, and jetted into his underwear, wetting the material and her hand. She’d feel him tomorrow—and she’d love it.
She collapsed against him, utterly spent, her breathing as labored as his, her mind reeling. They hadn’t had sex, and yet he’d made her come twice.
This man...oh, this man. He affected her.
“Off,” he said, surprising her. When she failed to move fast enough for his liking, he stood, ensuring she slid off his lap.
Her legs were the consistency of jelly, and it required a conscious effort to remain on her feet as she stumbled away from him.
“Get dressed,” he said, looking anywhere but at her.
“I will, but only because I want to dress.” A pang of hurt, but really, had she expected anything different? He didn’t like or respect her. As if he’d really want to cuddle with her now.
You need me, he loved to tell her. The implication? He didn’t need her.
Anger overtook the hurt. “Well, well. Look who’s in a rush to change his underpants. You unloaded a bucket’s worth of batter, didn’t you?”
He tossed her discarded garments at her, silent. Motions jerky, she covered her nakedness; her efforts to hide her trembling were wasted.
“Just so you know, you had a great start but a deplorable finish,” she muttered, smoothing the material in place.
“You enjoyed yourself,” he snapped.
“And so did you. So what’s your problem?”
“Maybe all the contact pained me more than I admitted.”
Maybe...wasn’t really an answer. The single word removed both truth and lie from the sentence. What didn’t he want her to know? “Maybe you’re beginning to have feelings for me, and you don’t like it.” The taunt echoed in her mind, and her eyes widened. Her feelings toward him had certainly softened, so why couldn’t his have softened toward her?
“You should pray that doesn’t happen,” he said quietly, menacingly. “I’m dangerous.”
Not to me. Even when he’d thought she’d betrayed him, he’d offered her pleasure rather than punishment.
He added, “There’s darkness inside me, and it’s only growing. I have no light.”
“Well, guess what? There’s light inside me, and when darkness and light go head to head, darkness runs and light saves the day.”
He frowned at her. “You think you can save me?”
“Don’t be silly. One person can never save another. Not in the true sense of the word. We all make our own choices. I’m just saying I’m willing to share with you.”
His frown intensified, but he remained silent.
“A demon once inhabited you,” she said, “but you kept your wits until the end and overcame him. Right? Mind over matter. Now you can do the same with the beast.”
“You make it sound easy, yet you have no idea the battle—”
“Oh, I know it’s a battle. Your own mind is often your fiercest opponent.” Her smile held an edge of sadness. “When I lost Peter—”
“Peter?” The name lashed from him. “Who is Peter?”
“My fiancé. Before Alek.”
Baden relaxed, but only slightly. “Who broke things off?”
An invisible hand wrapped around her heart and squeezed. “Neither of us. Alek killed him.”
He softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. The point is, I wanted to wallow in my sorrow, but I didn’t. I couldn’t because my dogs needed me.”
“Dogs Aleksander later took from you.”
Her chin quivered as she nodded. “You saw what happened when I did wallow.”
“I also saw what happened when you stopped.”
“I had to change the direction of my thoughts. Instead of lamenting about what I lost, I had to focus on what I had left. My emotions soon followed my mind. The same can happen for you.”