25. Manipul（ate）
Manipul(ate)
I reared back. “What . . . did you just say?” This can’t be the same man who’s afraid of my ankles.
“Art thou happy now, Ravenal?” He slapped the wall loudly. “I am completely undone for thee.”
I pointed my dagger down at him. “Why would you say that?”
He slapped the wall again and sat up, leaning against the headboard, legs spread wide, chains draped across his bruise-reddened skin. “I told thee that my condition was singular and vexing. The desire is real, and ’tis not for anyone else.” He scowled and muttered under his breath, “Unlike thee.”
“You’re just confused.” I backed away from his bed. My legs bumped into my mattress. The room narrowed. Nowhere to go. No way to escape him. For months the hostile proximity had been driving both of us mad, and now it was boiling over.
Complete the quest by any means necessary.
Tarantula bit down on his inner cheek. “I am not confused. Thou have afflicted me with this condition. Everything is your fault.”
“You’re just repressed,” I said, half pleading for him not to do this. “In your sorry state, anyone would make you—”
“I desire only thee, Ravenal.” He cut me off coldly. “Do thou need to hear how watching thee torture me for hours turned me on? How I could see nothing in Babilon but thee—Zora Ravenal—sitting indecently on that couch, your eyes glittering with mischief as thou watched me.”
I blinked rapidly. “I think it’s probably best if you don’t share how you feel—”
“I yearn for thee to press that knife against my flesh while thou ride my face for hours.” His chest heaved. “No one else will do. I exist in agony . . . My obsession is burning me alive.”
I opened and closed my jaw, speech impossible. “Take it back.”
“No.”
“You do not mean that.”
“I yearn to do . . . terrible things to thee.”
“What is actually wrong with you?” I aimed my dagger at him accusingly. “You don’t just reveal your intentions toward a woman. Suffer like a man and suppress your feelings.”
“Oh—I’m suffering, princess.” He bit down on his knuckles, and a gust of wind sent my braid whipping in every direction. “Thou art everything that consumes my existence—”
“You’re just turned on.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. “It means nothing—”
“It means everything.” His eyes shone with sinful malice. “I wake up thinking about thee. I go to bed thinking about thee . . . I spend my days thinking about how I shall ruin your life. And yet thou beat me to it—thou ruined mine first.”
I had no response.
He brought one knee up to his chest, his elegant pants pulling at the seams, tight around his crotch, as he wiped his thumb across his lower lip. The intensity in his eyes was now easily identifiable: lust.
Electricity had made the room unbearably hot. Both of us were near naked and covered in sweat.
His nostrils flared wide. “Thou art afraid . . . I can smell it on thee.”
How dare he.
“Cow—ard,” he taunted cruelly.
Complete the quest.
We’d spent so many long, tortuous weeks together; he thought he had me all figured out, but he had no idea who he was dealing with.
I will complete the quest.
I will beat him.
“You’re just a prude, right?” I asked quietly as I twirled my dagger lazily and stepped closer to his bed.
Complete the quest.
Do not hesitate.
He stopped breathing. “What . . . art thou doing?”
Hunt him down. With both hands balanced on the edge of his mattress, I leaned toward his face, wetting my bottom lip. “What . . . do you want me to do?” Spring the trap.
An icy breeze caressed the side of my face.
I closed my eyes, leaning into it, sighing with contentment. It felt divine against my overheated skin.
He panted loudly in the heavy silence.
I opened my eyes. He’d leaned forward, his golden eyelashes fluttering against my cheek as he slowly blinked.
“Sit on my face,” he repeated quietly. “Please. Let me—” he paused like he was sharing a dangerous secret “—suck thee off.”
I shook my head.
He nodded his yes.
“Are you . . . sure?” I asked hesitantly. “That’s what you really want to—”
“Yes.” He smiled indolently, feigning casualness, but his fingers twitched like he was ready to jump out of his skin.
“Oh.” I felt possessed. Unspoken desires burgeoned in the room.
“I yearn,” he purred darkly, “to taste your cunt on my lips.”
I backed away from him, fighting the pull, mouth dry, legs clenched together as I wavered. He’ll ruin me. His teeth dug deeply into the pillow of his full lower lip as he held my gaze.
“Please,” he rasped.
I stepped toward him.
He reached out, fingers sliding down my long braid.
I pulled away, faltering, and his hand hovered.
“Come to me, Ravenal,” he ordered, fingers clenching and releasing. “Or art thou scared?”
Complete the quest.
Seduce him.
You know you want to.
I stepped forward and leaned my head against his outstretched hand. “I hate you,” I said.
“I know.” He stroked across my cheek and tangled his fingers in my braid, eyelids lowering.
I pressed my palm against his chest. We both stared down at where I touched him, silver strands of magic glittering as they rose off him and wrapped around my wrist. Our skin glowed brightly. Gently I pushed against him, but he didn’t move.
“I’m in charge here.”
His eyebrows rose. “Art thou sure about that?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled, a dark light in his eyes. “Whatever the lady desires.”
I shoved.
He collapsed back onto the mattress, playing helpless beneath my touch. A heady, tingling rush of power made me woozy.
“Do it,” he taunted.
I held my knife up threateningly, and he smirked at it like I amused him.
I’ll show him.
Shimmying my hips, I dropped my pants slowly, letting the ruined chiffon puddle at my feet.
He froze; all mirth fled from his expression as his eyes turned coal black. Moon rays disappeared behind cloud cover, his silver haze the only source of light. The hollows of his cheeks sharpened in the shadows.
Leisurely he slid down the headboard until he was lying flat on the bed—waiting. For me.
What we’re doing is wrong.
Climbing up, I straddled his hips, my thighs spreading wide. I rubbed myself against his hardness, needing the friction.
He swore with a tormented groan as he grabbed the front collar of my shirt. RIP. He tore the buttons off and threw the garment away, then he did the same with the tiny strap of fabric across my chest, like the clothing deeply offended him. His pupils dilated, breath hitching.
He raised his glowing hands up toward my skin but stopped inches away. “May I?” he asked quietly, voice deeper than ever.
“You may.”
He still didn’t move, his fingers hovering centimeters from my shoulder. “It would be . . . rude of me.”
“Very rude,” I agreed.
“Deeply inappropriate.”
“Completely.”
“Unethical.”
“Of course.”
“Art thou . . . sure?” He studied my gaze, expression grave.
“Yes.”
His finger pads were warm and roughly calloused; he inhaled swiftly through gritted teeth as if racked by horrible pain.
I disintegrated into pieces.
He groaned deeply, and I nodded in agreement. His touch was fire, and I was incinerating. Nothing had ever felt so sublime, and he was just dragging his fingers over my arm.
Slowly I crawled up his body.
The heat in his eyes burned as he tracked my ascent. His hips thrust upward, hands trailing down my spine possessively, leaving a wake of destruction.
He brought his mouth to my ear. “Just so thou know . . . I will let thee do anything thou want to me, body or soul, for the rest of my life.”
I jolted, dragging my nails across the heated muscles of his chest.
“Anything.” He licked my ear, and I shuddered.
Adrenaline made me weightless with euphoria, and I nodded in agreement, unable to speak.
“Can I taste thee?”
I swallowed hard. “Please do.”
Gently he wrapped his long fingers around my waist. He pulled me forward, up, and over his chest until I was positioned on top of his face. My legs spread.
“Noble, perfect Ravenal,” he said hoarsely as he stared at my core.
His breath fanned hot, and he inhaled deeply.
I started to speak. He licked me hungrily like he had a sweet tooth and I was pure maple syrup.
Curse it all. My thighs spread wider as I sank lower onto the pillow, giving him more access.
Heat coiled deep, pleasure mounting as he sucked, hard, on my clit. I leaned forward helplessly, clutching my knife in one hand and gripping the headboard with the other.
He devoured me.
“Zora,” he rasped darkly, and my name sounded wickedly corrupt on his lips. “Why do thou taste of the most exquisite nectar?” he asked accusingly, like I’d somehow tricked him.
I whimpered, desperate for more.
“Ride me, Knight,” he ordered.
Gripping my thighs in his punishing hold, he pulled me even lower onto his face, his tongue needy as his calloused thumb slipped down, scraping deliciously across my ass. He lapped and sucked on my clit like he was desperate as he pushed his pointer finger slowly into my spasming heat.
Bucking, I obeyed and rode his face.
Heat uncoiled deep in my stomach, a precipice approaching.
“Don’t stop—Sazha,” I begged.
His tongue stilled.
He mumbled something straight into my core, tongue flicking my clit.
A second finger joined the first, slowly exploring, pumping in and out.
He paused each time to see how I’d react, learning my body.
Bastard. Two fingers plunged deeply in unison, and pleasure spiraled.
I arched my back as he hit a highly sensitive spot. Slowly he did it again.
I swore, slapping the wall as a flush set my face aflame, muscles tightening as I hurtled toward a cliff.
Unrelenting, repeatedly, he hit the spot as he sucked noisily on my clit. Flutters increased, and I tensed down on my inner muscles, trying desperately to hold myself back from coming.
He whispered kisses across my inner thighs. “Say my name again.” His teeth scraped as he thrust his fingers. “Please. Speak it on your tantalizing tongue.”
“Sazha,” I gasped.
He bit down, hard. Sharp pain streaked up between my legs, morphing into blistering heat.