Chapter Sixteen #3
He shifted his position behind me, and I heard the telltale sign of his zipper lowering. “You should see how hot you look, baby. All splayed out, painted in blood, needy and desperate for my cock. We’ll do this in front of mirror one day so you can see every single moment.”
There was another sting as he sliced my skin again. This one was deeper and in the soft spot above my hip.
“Fuck,” I hissed as I felt the blood pool and trickle down my back.
Byron dipped two fingers into the cut and then pressed them against my hole.
Holy fuck.
“Byron,” I moaned.
“I love how you say my name, Wilder. Like it’s in holy fucking worship.” He sank his fingers inside me, not even pausing to let me adjust. The blood he’d used—my blood—was barely enough to take the edge off.
“Are you ready for me, baby?”
I was more than ready. I was desperate. “Yes.”
He chuckled, the sound caught somewhere between affection and amusement. “Alright. This is going to hurt.”
“Don’t care. I want it to hurt.”
His response was a feral growl, and I shivered at how animalistic it sounded. I braced myself as he entered me, but fuck it burned. It was painful and sharp, and it twisted with the pleasure of feeling him inside me.
“You’re so tight, baby. I love it when you clench around me like that.
” His voice was strained with the effort at holding back.
He twisted his hand in my hair and pulled my head back so that I could look at him.
“You’re mine, Wilder. Whether you’ve admitted that to yourself or not, I’m never letting you go and there’s nowhere you can run where I won’t find you. ”
Then he bottomed out in one harsh thrust. A gasp flew out of my mouth followed closely by a pained whimper.
“Brace yourself,” he said as he placed a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. “This will hurt.”
“Good,” I replied through gritted teeth. There was no point in lying. To him or myself. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted to be able to feel him inside me for days. I wanted him to own me and ruin me and break me all at the same time. I wanted to be his in any capacity that he’d have me.
His grin was salacious as he pushed my head back into the mattress and finally started to move.
This wasn’t lovemaking. No, it was brutal and painful and deliciously carnal. Every one of his thrusts was deep and hit my prostate with agonising accuracy. He knew my body, knew how to make me writhe and squirm beneath him whilst he fucked me into the mattress.
All the walls I’d built, all the things I’d told myself to hide, were tumbling down with each thrust of his hips. My mind was in free fall until all I could think and breathe was him. Byron Blake. Psychopath. Assassin.
He was everything.
“I’m going to let you come, baby.” He nipped my ear sharply. “And when you do, call me kitten. Got it?”
I thought I’d live to regret giving him a pet name, but he was revelling in it.
“I asked you a question, baby.” His tongue traced the pulsing vein in my neck.
My brain was fuzzy, on the edge of blacking out from the adrenaline and the pain.
“Say it,” he demanded as he pushed deep into me.
So. Fucking. Deep. And so much harder than before.
I whimpered beneath him, my body shuddering in painful pleasure.
His fingers dug into the cut he’d made on my back. “Say it!”
I yelped at the sudden sting, the sharpness of it clearing my mind. “Please, kitten. Make me come.”
His bright blue eyes shone with goddamn triumph as he sat back up and drove deep into me, rewarding me with more pleasure than I could handle.
He didn’t even touch me. He didn’t need to. I was so desperate, so worked up, I’d come untouched.
Byron’s teeth sank into my shoulder, the pain only heightening my orgasm, and his thrusts turned violent as he chased his own release, his teeth still buried into the soft spot on my shoulder like I was his new favourite chew toy.
I collapsed into the bed, struggling to catch my breath. My chest heaved beneath Byron and I felt weightless. If Byron wasn’t lying on top of me, I think I’d just float away.
He soothed the bite mark with his tongue, humming as he did so. The sound of it reverberated deliciously through me and I lay there for a moment, just enjoying the softness of his touch.
“Such a good boy,” Byron said as he rolled off me and sliced off the cable ties.
Pins and needles shot straight through my fingers as I started to wiggle them.
“You like it when I call you that, don’t you baby,” Byron said as he traced the tattoo on the bottom of my throat. “Maybe I’ll get you a collar.”
I blanched. “No fucking way.”
He smiled as he continued to swipe his finger around the base of my neck. A deep rumble rose from somewhere inside my chest and that should probably have embarrassed me but then again, Byron had just fucked me using my own blood as lube. Pretty sure dignity wasn’t something I had anymore.
“That sounds like a challenge, baby.”
“I won’t wear one,” I replied, but even I could tell my refusal was barely half hearted.
“We’ll see,” he chuckled. “Now, let me clean you up and sort your wounds. Unless you can heal them?”
I shook my head. “Unfortunately, that’s not how my magic works. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.”
He pressed a kiss to my latest bite mark and disappeared for a moment before returning with the kit. His touch was soft and gentle as he sorted the wounds on my back, and it wasn’t long until his gentle touches lulled me to sleep.