Page 82 of Their Blood Rite

They’re a map of lies, pain and suffering. My father is a difficult man. A harsh man. But I thought, deep down, he loved me. That he never hit me hard enough to mark me. To permanently scar me.

Clearly, I was wrong. Those brief moments of kindness came so rarely, but they were everything to me when they came. And I daren’t look in a mirror.

Not with the shadows.

Archie runs his fingers across my skin and down my spine.

‘Are they hideous?’ I ask.

‘I don’t think anything on your body could ever be hideous,’ he says. ‘But I guarantee you, your father will pay for every single one of these scars.’

He moves closer. Then he kisses my shoulder.

I let out a jagged breath as his wandering hand glides down, across my hip, and onto my belly. He pulls me back into him so his chest is flush with my back.

His erection presses into my backside.

I’m instantly on my feet, facing him as he kneels in the water.

‘Coward,’ he teases.

My fists are clenched as I look down at him, still smiling up at me with a sly half-smile and a slightly raised brow.

‘Go on then. Run off.’

I frown. Arrogant prick.

I take a step towards him. He doesn’t move. He’s daring me. Seeing if I have the balls or not. Will I run? Be angry and outraged?

He wants to see.

And if I’m honest… so do I.

I’ve only ever climaxed when I’ve pleasured myself. Cole never made me finish. Not once.

But Archie has, as well as Shaw and Dorian.

I thought I knew my body and what it could do.

But when they had me surrounded…thatwas an orgasm. A real fucking orgasm.

And if this is to be my life now, if I’m trapped in this place, then why the fuck not?

I reach out and run my hand through his white hair. He leans into my touch ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact with me.

Fuck. He is beautiful. An unbearably gorgeous face and a body built to perfection. And he knows what he’s doing. Every touch. Every caress. He’s a master at it all.

The wolf knows how to please a girl.

I look at his lips.

I know what that mouth can do. That tongue.

Fuck… that tongue.

He sits back on his haunches, lifts his hand, and slowly wags his finger.

I take a shaky breath. My body and mind are at war. My head screams,“Don’t you fucking dare!”. But my body wants him on me. Inside me. Wrapped all around me.

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