Chapter 26 ERION
ERION
We barely make it through the villa's entrance before we're on each other.
The door slams shut behind us, the sound echoing through the empty space, and then Lily's mouth is on mine.
Hot. Demanding. Nothing tentative about it.
Her hands pull at my jacket with desperate fingers, tugging at fabric like she can't get it off fast enough.
Then my shirt. Buttons popping. Desperate and clumsy and absolutely perfect.
I kiss her back harder, walking her backward into the entrance hall. My hands find her waist, slide down to grip her hips, pull her flush against me so she can feel exactly what she does to me. How hard I am. How much I want her.
She gasps into my mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss. Her fingers fumble with my belt, shaking slightly, inexperienced but determined.
I break the kiss. Step back just enough to see her face.
Her lips are swollen from my mouth. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. Her chest heaves with each breath, making her breasts rise and fall in a rhythm that's driving me insane.
"I don't think I can be gentle right now," I say. The words come out rough, scraped raw from my throat.
I need her to understand. Need her to know what she's in for.
She looks at me without hesitation. Without fear. "Then don't be. Be yourself. I want you just the way you are."
Something in my chest tightens. Then loosens.
She means it. She wants this. Wants me.
I smirk, can't help it. "You don't know what you're saying, dashuri." Sweetheart. "I like to fuck hard. Rough. I won't be able to hold back."
Her chin lifts. Defiant. That sweet sunshine girl showing steel underneath. "Show me."
The last thread of my control snaps clean.
I grab her hand, my fingers wrapping around her wrist, and drag her toward the stairs that lead to the upper floor. But I don't take her up. I stop at the landing, the outside edge where the railing overlooks the entrance hall below, marble and iron and space dropping away beneath us.
I lift her hands above her head with one of mine, my grip firm but careful. Reach for my belt with the other hand. The leather slides free from the loops with a whisper of sound that makes her breath catch.
Her eyes widen. Blue and bright and aware.
But she doesn't pull away. Doesn't protest.
I wrap the belt around her wrists, the leather smooth and warm from my body. Loop it through one of the iron balusters, the metal cold against my knuckles. Pull it tight enough to hold but not hurt, checking the tension twice to make sure.
She's pinned. Hands high above her head. Balancing on the tips of her toes. Her body curves toward me naturally, back arching, breasts lifting. Offered.
"Okay?" I ask. Need to hear it. Need her consent explicit and clear.
"Yes." Her voice is breathless but certain. No hesitation. "Yes."
I reach down to my boot. Pull out the knife I always carry, the blade sliding free with a soft metallic whisper.
Her breath hitches. I see her pulse jump in her throat.
I bring the knife up slowly. Let her see it. Let the light catch the edge. Let her decide if she trusts me with this. With her body. With control.
She doesn't flinch. Just watches me with those wide blue eyes.
The trust in that gaze is intoxicating. More powerful than any drug.
I drag the blade down the front of her shirt. The fabric parts like water, falling away in pieces. I cut through her bra next, the straps giving way with barely any pressure. Her jeans. Her underwear. Everything.
Until she's completely naked. Exposed. Vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with the blade and everything to do with choice.
At my mercy.
I step back. Just to look at her.
Zot. God.
She's beautiful. The blush spreading across her chest, pink and warm. Down toward her breasts. Almost reaching the soft rose of her nipples, which are tight and hard from arousal and the cool air.
Her body is soft curves and gentle lines. Nothing hard about her. Nothing sharp. Just sweetness and want and trust that I don't deserve but I'm taking anyway.
"Perfekt," I murmur.
I drop to my knees in front of her.
The marble is cold and hard beneath me but I don't care. Nothing matters except her.
I position her thighs over my shoulders, lifting carefully. Make sure I'm supporting her weight with my body, my shoulders taking the burden so there's no strain on her arms, no pressure on her wrists.
Then I put my mouth on her.
She cries out, the sound sharp and shocked and desperate. Her thighs tighten around my head, trembling.
I work her with my tongue, my lips, learning what makes her gasp and what makes her moan. She's wet and sweet and responsive, her body telling me everything I need to know.
I focus on her clit, circling and sucking until her breathing goes ragged.
She comes hard. Shaking. My name falling from her lips like a prayer. "Erion. Oh god, Erion."
I stand, my knees protesting slightly. Position her legs around my waist, holding her weight easily. Press her back against the wall beside the railing.
Free myself with one hand, my cock so hard it's almost painful.
Line up. Press just the tip inside.
Hold there.
She whimpers. Tries to push down. Take more. Her hips rolling, seeking.
"Please," she begs, and the sound goes straight to my cock. "Erion, please. I need you."
I thrust in. Hard. All the way. No gentleness. No restraint.
She screams, the sound echoing through the empty villa.
I fuck her the way I've wanted to from the first moment I saw her standing in Luan's apartment looking soft and sweet and completely out of place.
Hard. Deep. Taking what I need. What she's giving me.
I pinch her nipples between my fingers, rolling and tugging until she gasps. Bite them, leaving marks that will last. Claiming her in a way that's primitive and possessive.
"You'd look amazing with clamps," I tell her, my voice rough with need. "Right here. Holding these pretty nipples tight while I fuck you. Would you like that, dashuri? Would you wear them for me?"
She moans. Nods frantically. "Yes. Yes."
I press my thumb to her clit. Rub circles in time with my thrusts.
She comes again, her body clenching around me so tight I see stars.
I follow. Can't hold back anymore. Come hard inside her, my vision whiting out, pleasure ripping through me like lightning.
We're both breathing heavy. She's limp against me, boneless and satisfied.
I kiss her. Soft this time. Gentle. A contrast to everything that came before. While she comes down from the high, while her breathing evens out and her body stops trembling.
I reach up. Undo the belt with careful fingers. Catch her wrists as they fall, holding them gently. Massage the skin there, checking for any marks, any damage.
There's some redness but nothing serious. Nothing that won't fade quickly.
"Are you okay?" I need to hear it. Need confirmation that I didn't push too far, that she's still with me, that this was good for her.
She looks at me. Her eyes are clear despite the post-orgasm haze. She smiles, genuine and warm. "I'm more than okay."
Relief and satisfaction flood through me in equal measure.
I loop the belt around her neck. Not tight. Just resting there. A collar without pressure. A promise of what comes next.
"Good," I say, my voice dropping lower. "Because we're not done yet, dashuri. Not even close."