Page 67 of The Dark Before Light

I lean forward just enough to whisper in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you raw. Your pussy, your ass—they’re mine. You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you, and you’re going to fucking love it.”

She whimpers.

“You’re going to close the door now and set the alarm. Then you’re going to take me to your bed. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers.

My eyes close in relief. “That’s a good girl.”

I uncurl my fingers and step to the side. She slips past me to close and lock the door, then taps the console mounted beside it. A light flips from green to red. She looks at me, eyes dark and huge, and a hard swallow convulses her throat. My cock twitches in memory.

Energy coils in my muscles, runs like electricity in my veins. “Your bed,” I remind her.

Her breath hitches. She nods, the movement jerky, then guides me across a living room, through a shadowed kitchen, and down a hallway. The closer we come to her bedroom, the more she relaxes. She’s accepting the inevitability of this. Softening in anticipation.

I’m having the opposite reaction, my tension mounting further every second. It’s all I can do not to throw her on the runner beneath our feet and claim her like a beast.

“Is your cunt wet, Talia?”

Her quick glance over her shoulder makes my balls tighten. There’s no conflict anymore. Only hunger as acute as mine.

“You know it is,” she whispers.

We cross into her bedroom. I’m only dimly aware of a lovely, airy space. Plants, dimmed lights, soothing colors. All I really see is the king-sized bed. When we reach it, I turn her around roughly and finally, finally, unleash myself.

Delicate buttons tear from their threads as I pull the halves of her blouse apart. Her heaving breasts sit in pale lace. I yank the cups down and fill my hands, my thumbs teasing firm, rosy nipples.

“Perfect,” I whisper, bending to circle a pert bud with my tongue. The sound she makes is exquisite, between a sigh and a groan.

As I knead, tongue, and bite one breast, then the other, her pussy gets the message I’m sending. Her hips push frantically against me. Soon, love. Soon. I reach around her back and undo the clasp of her bra, then pull it off and toss it. My shirt comes off with a swift yank and then my hands are on her again, stroking up her belly, over her breasts. Her nipples are darker after my ministrations. I pinch them.

She gasps my name and I crush my mouth to hers, tasting the last syllable. This time, I control the kiss. I take everything I want with one hand anchored in her hair and the other on her jaw to hold it open. Breathing becomes a secondary need to exploring the origin of so much of my obsession. Her voice. Her sharp tongue. That goddamn tooth—when I trace its contours, I groan like a man on the verge of collapse. My cock throbs, ready to blow just from kissing her.

Backing off a bit, I nip at her swollen lips, then kiss along her jaw to her neck. She smells so fucking good. Feels perfect against me, her height and curves custom-made to complement my frame. My hands roam her torso, memorizing the silk of her skin and the bow of her spine. I find the zipper at the back of her skirt and pull it down. With a tug, the fabric clears her hips and pools around her feet. I palm her ass, spreading her cheeks. My fingers find the string of her thong and follow it to her center.

Petal-soft, swollen, and so fucking wet.

“You’re dripping, sweetheart.”

She nods against my shoulder. “Please, Kieran.”

Her soft, beseeching voice wrecks me. Lifting her by the waist, I throw her onto the bed. She lands on her back, hair a dark pool around her shoulders. Her lips are parted, eyes hot with surprise and lust.

“Never been tossed before, have you?”

The shake of her head fills me with savage satisfaction. Her hands come to her breasts, kneading and tweaking her nipples. I grunt at the visceral impact. For one second, two, I stare at the vision laid out before me. My jaw clenches. My hand finds my cock, squeezing it through denim in hopes of relieving some pressure. It doesn’t help.

“Spread your legs.”

She does so instantly, without shame. Rooted in her feminine power and sexuality. I’m humbled by it. And more turned on than I’ve been in my entire life.

I pop the button on my jeans and toe off my shoes and socks. “Touch that pretty pussy for me.”

One hand dips between her legs, pulling aside her thong, while the other trails across her chest and belly. Staring into my eyes, she strokes herself with drugging confidence, her hips swiveling, making little noises that urge more pre-cum from my cock.

She has no idea how possessive she looks right now. Her eyes tell me she owns me. That I own her. But it’s all right—the rest of her will figure it out eventually.

“Fuck,” I hiss, pulling down the zipper on my jeans. “I was going to eat you out, but I’ve changed my mind. I have to be inside you right fucking now. You have the most perfect pink pussy I’ve ever seen. Is it for me, Talia? Does it belong to me tonight?”

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