The night was cold but Batya barely felt it. Blood rushed through her veins, heating her body in a way only few things could. She should be exhausted from the battle she’d fought but her energy level was still so high, she was almost buzzing. As she stripped off her uniform, memories of the previous few hours flashed in her mind.
The mission started smoothly but the rebels knew to expect them now. It never took them long to gather their people to join the fight. Yet, they still lost – Castille’s squadron was just too skilled. Too deadly. Her breath hitched at the thought of him. The way he moved during combat was like poetry she never tired of reading.
And then there was the blood. After months of watching him kill the enemy, her anticipation at seeing him lick the blood from his knives never waned. Glancing in the bathroom mirror, she noted the blood that speckled her face. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she was just as much of a badass as her lover.
Just as she stepped into the shower, he barged into the bathroom. His dark brown eyes focused on her while he shed his clothes.
“I was wondering when you’d get here, Castille,” she said, grinning.
While they were careful in the beginning, she was sure everyone knew their ritual by now.
“You know Khyron likes to talk,” he muttered.
Batya laughed and extended her hand to him. She knew exactly how to get his mind off his second in command but first they needed to get clean. Fighting the urge to ravage him right there, she focused on removing the fight’s residue from their bodies.
A smile crept across her face when he hardened in her hands.
“I’m clean. Let’s go,” he muttered.
Squealing, she sprinted to the bed as if his long strides wouldn’t catch up with her. By the time she climbed on, he was there to flip her over on her back. He captured her mouth, his tongue savouring her taste as if they hadn’t done this a hundred times.
When he pulled away, she ran her fingernails down his chest, increasing the pressure as she went. Large welts rose in seconds.
“I like the sight of that.”
“Speaking of sight…”
He reached over and pulled a cloth from the drawer in her nightstand. A small whimper escaped her as he tied the blindfold around her temple. Soon after, she heard the tell-tale sound of padded wrist restraints. Longing made her core pulse.
Without her sight, she strained to determine his movements but still jumped when the chill of steel touched her ankle. Castille snickered and slid the curved blade slowly up her calf to tease her inner thigh. When she squirmed, he switched to the other leg and started at her ankle again.
“Patience, sweet girl,” he whispered.
Batya took a deep breath to settle her thundering heart but the need for more still throbbed between her thighs. The blade lingered on her inner thigh and she fought the urge to twitch. A little knick and she was sure the sight of crimson trickling down her thigh would bring out the ravenous desire he was barely keeping under control.
But he lifted the blade from her again. This time, it circled her areola, teasing her hardening nipple with the sharp tip. Curling her toes, she pressed her thighs into the bed and wondered if he saw the wetness dripping from her. Perhaps he did because she lost the sensation of the blade moments before he sunk two fingers inside her slick sheath.
“Oh, Castille.”
He groaned and took her nipple into his mouth – his teeth gently scraping her sensitive flesh. Batya’s lips parted in a soft moan as she ground her clitoris against the heel of his hand.
“Naughty.” His breath was hot on her breast and she shuddered when he pulled away again.
At least, she didn’t wait long. She heard a hiss, then his thumb traced along her bottom lip. The feeling of warm rust-scented liquid coating her lip quickened her breath and she licked it eagerly. He touched her mouth again but kissed her quickly.
Their tongues’ sensual embrace was coloured by the tang of his blood and they moaned in tandem. Groaning, he broke their kiss.
“I need to taste you.”
With anyone other than him, this meant something else entirely but she spread her legs wider. The blade travelled up her inner thigh again. When he pierced her skin, she gasped with delight. Just as quickly, his tongue was swirling along the spot making her shiver.
Castille suckled gently on her thigh and his fingers found her wet core again. Working them steadily on her soft ridges, he moaned against her skin. Overcome with the sensations shooting like electricity through her body, Batya arched her back and pulled on her restraints.
She never wanted to touch him more than this moment. Then he slid his fingers from her, leaving her on the cusp of release. A whimper stuck at the back of her throat because she knew he was craving climax as much as she was.
“I don’t know which taste I love more,” he whispered in her ear.
To dispel any doubts about what he was talking about, he dips his fingers into her mouth. She lapped hungrily, licking him clean of her juices. When he cursed, she smiled. Just because her hands were cuffed, it didn’t mean she couldn’t drive him crazy.
Mere moments later, Castille ran his velvety shaft along her slick folds. Without thinking, she rolled her hips to grind on him. She wanted him now – deep and thrusting and claiming every inch of her. Finally, he pierced her entrance and she breathed out a satisfied moan.
After months, she’d memorized his manhood using her hands and mouth. Still, the pleasure of having her muscles parted by his thick thrusting erection was always dizzying. Bucking her hips to match his rhythm, her fingers curled around the bars of the headboard.
Letting loose a groan, he grabbed her ass cheeks and slammed into her – over and over and over until the room was a cacophony of their bodies coming together and their indecipherable cries. Batya lost all concept of time as she tumbled into the euphoria she’d only ever had with the man emptying his hot essence into her.
She didn’t know how long they lay there – bodies slick with sweat and her cut throbbing – before he released her hands and removed the blindfold. It took quite a few blinks to see him clearly.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”
His touch was gentle as he cleaned and dressed her thigh. Since her squad mates thought of him as brutal and ruthless, they would never see him as she did. How could she explain what they do? Fortunately, she would never have to.
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