9. Luna
CHAPTER NINE
LUNA
As I swipe my tongue across his warm flesh, the fire in his eyes will be forever seared into my soul.
The heat is a fucking turn-on, so without thinking, I opened my mouth and asked him the one question that’s been on my mind, while the metallic taste of him dances along my tongue.
The anticipation has the wetness pooling between my thighs.
Nicolai has me craving the dark, depraved side of himself that he’s hidden from me until today.
When his bloody hand wraps around my throat and squeezes, I meet his dark gaze in the mirror, contemplating if this will be my last day on this earth.
Most women would be scared and struggling to break free.
Me? I’m the complete opposite. My clit throbs in anticipation of what’s going to happen next.
As I feel my pulse slowly weaken, I know I’m on the verge of passing out. Leaning in, he whispers, “I decide where and when we fuck, Luna. You’d be wise to remember that in the future.” I’ve no doubt he savors the fact that he could end my life, since his erection is thick and hard against my back.
Just when I start to lose consciousness, he releases his tight grip around my throat. I’m gasping for air, and the only thing holding me up is his tall frame and the counter pressed against my hips.
Tears are streaming down my face as his large hands grip my waist. I struggle for every breath when I suddenly realize I underestimated my new husband.
He might not be as evil as his late brother was to me, but he’s his father’s son.
I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree when push comes to shove.
And, clearly, I pushed his buttons and forgot my place in this family.
He’s scooping me up in his arms one minute, holding me close as the bullets fly on our wedding day. Today, he expects me to act like the dutiful wife and wait until he initiates sex, like I’m just here to breed his spawn, heartless bastard.
When I stop coughing, I open my eyes and shudder at my reflection.
My cheeks are stained with tears and splotches of mascara.
My throat has a slight purple hue along the edges, and my hair is a tangled mess.
If he thinks for one minute that I’m a puppet he can control, he’s sadly mistaken.
I didn’t break for his brother, and I sure as hell won’t do it for him either.
I’ll let him fuck me every which way to Sunday, closing my eyes and pretending it’s his brother so I won’t feel a thing.
That will be my gift to him for stifling my sexuality.
“Since you have a smart mouth and don’t know when to shut it, why don’t I put it to good use. Get on your knees, Luna,” I’m ready to give him a piece of my mind when I catch his stare in the mirror.
He’s waiting for me to fight it. So, I turn around slowly, hand pressed against his chest, pushing him back. And then I drop to my knees, tilting my chin to meet his steely gaze.
That infuriating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Smug bastard. He knew I’d do it, and I hate that he’s right. Hate that my pulse is racing and my skin’s flushed at the thought of taking him in my mouth.
He crouches slightly, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “You look better like this,” he whispers. “On your knees. Breath hitching. Eyes dark with arousal.” His breath grazes my skin, and my spine tingles from the contact.
“Say it, Luna,” he murmurs. “Say you want me.” I hate him, but I want him. God help me, I want him.
“I hate you,” I whisper, “but I don’t have a choice.” I never did, and I never will.
“There’s a difference,” he says quietly. “Between surrendering and making a choice. And you don’t hate me. You hate the fact that you want me. Now unzip my pants and take out my cock.” I pause because his words have a ring of truth to them.
I reach for his belt, my fingers trembling slightly.
The sound of the buckle clicking open is loud in the quiet room, and his gaze on me is heavy and intense.
I unzip his pants, my heart pounding in my ears.
He hisses as I slide my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around him.
He’s hard and hot, and I can feel the pulse of his arousal against my palm.
“Luna,” he groans, his voice low and rough. “Look at me.”
I meet his eyes, and the raw hunger I see there makes me suck in a breath.
I lean in, my lips brushing against the tip of his cock, and a hiss tears from his throat.
I take him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around him as I start to move.
His hands tangle in my hair, guiding me, urging me on.
I can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles flex beneath my touch.
“Fuck, Luna,” he hisses, his hips bucking slightly. “You’re so good at this. So, fucking good.”
I’m gagging on his length as he fucks my mouth. Tears are streaming down my face as I struggle to keep up with his rhythm. His grip on my hair is fierce, almost painful, as he guides my movements. I can feel the pressure building in my throat, the need to breathe becoming nearly unbearable.
Just when I think I can’t take any more, Nico’s thumb brushes across my cheek, rough and calloused, smearing my tears and mascara in one unrelenting swipe. It’s just another sick reminder that even in my unraveling, he owns the moment.
I look up at him through blurred lashes and broken pride, and the raw hunger in his eyes steals my breath. And somehow, it makes me desperate to match the intensity he’s pouring into me with nothing but a look.
His body tenses, and the muscles in his thighs and abdomen go rigid. I know he’s close as my hands and mouth move in perfect sync. I can feel him swell, can feel the pulse of his veins against my tongue.
“Luna!” he cries out, his body rigid as he comes. His release is hot and thick in my mouth, and I swallow. My own body trembling with need, thighs clenching with an ache I’m desperate to fuck away.
He pulls me up, his hands on my waist, and his mouth crashes down on mine.
I know he can taste himself on my lips, and it sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.
His hands roam over my body, his touch hot and demanding.
And I know that I’m lost to him, to this, to the way he makes me feel.
“I hate you,” I whisper against his lips, even as I melt into his embrace. “I hate you so much.”
“Lies,” he murmurs, his hands sliding under my dress, his fingers finding my pussy. “Your cunt is soaked and needy for my cock. You want me. And you know it.”
I stand there, breathless and aching, my body betraying me with every pounding heartbeat.
Nico’s touch is both torture and ecstasy as his fingers tease my opening and flick over my clit.
Edging me, but never satisfying this ache building inside of me.
I want to hate him, to push him away, but my body yearns for his touch, for the release he promises but refuses to give.
It’s a cruel game, and I’m trapped in its thrall, desperate for it to end, even as I crave more.
“You can’t come,” he whispers, his voice a low, commanding growl. “Not yet. This is your punishment.”
“Then I’ll take matters into my own hands. Like I always do.”
“Like hell you will,” he growls. “I’m the only one who can make you come, so do not touch yourself. Do you understand? Good. Now, go get cleaned up before we leave.”