Page 83 of Their Blood Rite

He takes that slowly wagging finger and places it between my legs.

I gasp as he eases it inside me, hooks into my inner wall, and pulls me closer.

He fully raises his brow and waits, his finger buried deep but perfectly still.

‘If you want it,’ he murmurs in a velvety smooth tone made of pure seduction. ‘You gotta take it, Pixie.’

My fingers knot in his hair, and I pull him into my pussy.

His lips seal around my clit, and his free hand grabs my backside, keeping me pressed into him.

‘Shit…’ I hiss, doubling over as he sucks and licks my bundle of nerves. ‘Oh… God…’

His buried finger slides in and out, massaging and caressing. He adds a second finger and pulls his face away to look up at me.

‘You are so fucking wet,’ he whispers. ‘And I’ve barely started.’ He pulls out his fingers and puts them in his mouth, sucking them clean before returning between my legs. His fingers fuck me slowly, and his mouth fucks me mercilessly.

With the sound of his moaning and the water cascading behind me, I fall into nothing and no one. All I am is pleasure and heightened senses.

He adds a third finger, stretching me as he swirls them.

‘Oh God…’ I moan, knotting my fingers tighter in his hair.

More. It’s all I can think of. I need more pressure. More speed. More force.

He meets my needs instinctually, knowing what I want and giving it in utter perfection.

‘Oh God…’

He pulls away and glares up at me.

‘Quit giving him all the credit, would you? If it’s my fingers and tongue making you cry out in pleasure, you better say my fucking name.’ He flicks my clit, making me cry out as pain and pleasure battle for dominance.

‘Sorry… I’m sorry… please…’

‘Please… who?’

‘Archie.’

He shakes his head.

I blink and say it before I comprehend it.

‘Master,’ I breathe. ‘Please, Master.’

‘Good girl.’

He plunges his fingers back inside me and slams his mouth back between my legs.

In seconds, I’m coming around him, convulsing as powerful waves of pleasure rip through me, one after the other after the other. My cries echo around us, bouncing off the slate and stone. I don’t hold back. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.

Which I don’t.

When I was alone, I smothered my little whimpers, terrified my father would hear.

With Cole, he never got close to prising out any noise whatsoever.

I’ve barely finished when Archie has gotten to his feet. He has hold of me and pushes me back. We go beneath the cascading water and stop when I meet the cold, moss-covered stone behind the waterfall.

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