Page 102 of Nightshade

Jericho lifted her arm where the branding of the Pentacrux had been burned into her flesh. Over it, he swept his thumb, leaving behind silvery, metallic swirls that glinted in the soft moonlight. Thousands of strange symbols she didn’t recognize lay embedded in the swirls, magnificent and unearthly. “You no longer belong to the church or these people. You are not bound by the laws of their world. From this night forward, I am your church. When you are lost, I am your shelter. When you are in pain, I am your elixir.” Gripping her crown, he tipped her head back and stared deeply into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze tickled her stomach. “When you ache for pleasure, I am your mercy.” A look of conviction claimed his expression, as he said, “I will burn down this pathetic world for you. Only you. You are mine, little fledgling. Always.”

“Always.”

Jericho took her hand, guiding her to a soft patch of green grass, and with his palm cupped to the back of her neck, he laid her down there. Lips pressed to hers, he stole her breath, as he worked the ties of her nightgown loose.

“Are you afraid?” he asked against her lips.

“Only a little,” she whispered. “Although, it is my lack of experience that frightens me, My Lord, not you.” If she dared to admit it, it was also the teachings of the church, which dictated that any premarital sexual acts caught by a member of the church was punishable by death.

“I will teach you to enjoy the hidden pleasures of your body. Soon, you will crave as thoroughly as your need to breathe, but you will go to no other man to sate this hunger, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He gave a light squeeze of her throat and clenched his teeth. “Promise me you will not seek out another.”

“I promise you.”

With that, the tension seemed to ease in him, and grip loosening, he nodded. “You will do everything I tell you this evening, without question, yes? And you will trust me.”

“I will.”

“Spread your thighs for me.”

Lustina swallowed a harsh gulp and did as he commanded, opening herself to him. The hem of her gown climbed the length of her thigh, and vulnerability swept over her as she lay indecent and exposed, her most forbidden parts on display. Knees trembling, she fought the urge to bring her legs together, as the baron stared down at her with a reverent gleam in his eyes.

“You are divine, Lustina. My beautiful and perfect little butterfly.”

The girl had to look away, seeing as she didn’t feel beautiful, or perfect, in that moment. She worried about every flaw--the birthmark on her inner thigh, the small bit of hair that’d begun to grow there. When he pressed a finger to her flesh, a wave of shock and panic pulsed through her. On a gasp, she kicked back from him and brought her knees together.

With a grip of her ankles, he dragged her across the grass, back into place, and wedged his body between her thighs, preventing her from closing them again. “You will not move unless told to do so. Is that clear?”

She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and nodded. “Yes, My Lord.”

Eyes directed at her, he resumed his touching, watching her. The sensation was unbearably pleasurable. The soft rubbing, made slick with a strange wetness, felt utterly delicious and wrong at the same time. And that odd bubbly sensation that reminded her of a boiling pot of water. Not painful, but fervid and warm. God help her, it felt exquisite. Positively titillating.

Heat rose to her face, while a carnal urgency tugged somewhere deep inside her belly, and when she looked away, he gave a gentle nudge of her jaw, guiding her attention back to him.

“Have you never reached the point of ecstasy on your own?”

Lips pressed to a hard line, she stared up at him in confusion. “Ecstasy?”

His mouth curved to a wicked smile. “Then, I shall enjoy this all the more.”

Little pants of breath escaped her, the glide of his finger so sticky and wet, he hardly had to put much pressure to incite the friction and heat building in that place that ached for more. Of what, she didn’t know. She had never felt anything so thrilling in her life, and when he pushed his finger up into her, Lustina let out a quiet whimper. She could not have imagined the unexpected delight of feeling it move inside her body, gliding in and out of her. While his thumb rolled across the budding bit of sensitive flesh on the outside, his finger pumped in and out of her, creating a sloppy wet sound that seemed to echo all around them.

Moaning and grunting, Lustina rolled her head back and forth, hands balling and flexing at her sides as some kind of evil possessed her. A sweet torment, which claimed her limbs and left her breathless and weak. The gluttony she felt surely had to be a sin. The sensation was everything, and yet, somehow, not enough. Not enough! How could it not be enough?

As if he could hear her thoughts, the baron inserted a second finger, and Lustina arched, relieved by the newly added pressure. Without guidance, she spread her legs wider, pulling her knees up, and writhed as he drove his fingers in and out of that dark, forbidden hole.

“You are a vision of pure lust, Lustina. This craving to devour you is unrelenting.” With that, he lowered his face to between her thighs, and as he continued to push his fingers inside of her, he dragged his tongue over the sensitive mound where his thumb had once played. His flicking and sucking at it stirred a feeling of madness, a desire to bite and scream and dig her fingers into something. She cried out, gripping the crown of his head with one hand and a fistful of grass with the other. She watched with panic as his head bobbed, his arm flexed, and the pressure inside of her grew into a tight ball that pulled at her belly and thighs.

What was this monster inside of her? This gluttonous beast that yearned for something? She did not know, but it clawed and wrenched her insides--squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she arched as the monster grew bigger, hungrier, climbing toward some unseen pinnacle.

“Jericho! Please!” Panic laced her voice, and like a girl possessed, she circled her hips against his unforgiving tongue, her fingers scraping the crown of his head.

He didn’t stop.

Why didn’t he stop!