Page 62 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
Each breath ripped me in two, but I managed to huff out, “Not just this… all of it… Today… Being nice to me.”
His lips pressed together and a small frown furrowed his brow. “When you collapsed in the snow…” He exhaled, shoulders sinking, the creases between his brows deepening. “I thought you were going to die. And I realised I didn’t want that.”
He maintained that two-fingered thrust, using his thumb to circle my clit, making the pleasure thunder in my ears. It was a wonder I could still hear him.
“So now I’m looking after you, like a responsible master.” His hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back, pulling me even more taut.
I clung to the edge of the bath like I was clinging to sanity. “I’m not going to come for you.”
I gritted my teeth and glared at him, trying to picture the corpulent, diseased patron who’d once tried to force me over dinner. But Sepher crashed into the fantasy, ripping out the man’s throat before fucking me on the table, painting me with food and blood, then licking it off.
“I’ll never come for you.”
But, fuck, I was close.
“It’s adorable that you think you have a choice. You forget—you belong to me. All of you.”
He bent to me, then, and his lips claimed mine as he added a third finger inside me.
Fuck. It was so much. Too much. A sweet ache that slid into and stretched and pushed my limits, as his tongue swept into my mouth, stating that it washiswith more eloquence than any words.
My climax batted itself against the bars of my control.
No. No. No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
But I was kissing him back, moaning into his mouth, letting him devour my sounds, my breath, my last shred of sanity.
And something in me swelled and grew, a torturously slow spreading of pure joy. It soared along my nerves like a caged bird finally given flight.
He yanked my hair, and the world exploded. My scream crashed through the bathroom, equal parts climaxing pleasure and shame and anger that he was making me come so fucking hard it didn’t just come from my body but my very soul.
And some horrible, awful part of me loved it.
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Once was not enough.
He mastered me again and again… Until I lost count and one orgasm rolled into the next, the edges blurring and boiling with hate and desire. Until tears streamed down my cheeks, and it only took the slightest touch to send me crashing over the edge again.
I didn’t know I could come so much or so hard. Nothing had ever felt so incredible and so awful at once.
“Please,” I whimpered as he nuzzled into my throat, canines grazing my jugular.
Just that light touch felt like a dagger being dragged through my flesh, my body was so sensitised. His fingers in me and on me had blurred into a seething mass of sensation and pleasure that I couldn’t handle. I managed to pull one leg off the rim of the bath, but the other he held firm with his tail.
He pulled back, a slow grin widening on his face as he met my gaze. “What, love? Please what?”
“Please stop.”
I sobbed when he did.
I’d expected him to keep going, to keep torturing me, now he’d found a new way to do it and I was at his mercy.
But he stopped.
“There.” He said it like he was standing over a job well done. Slowly, slowly, he slid his fingers from me, and I sagged against the side of the bath.
The world was hazy as arms came around me. They didn’t tease or torture, just lifted me and wrapped a huge, fluffy towel around my limp body.
