Page 48 of Burn Like An Angel

He’s focused on me—every shaky breath, the slippery warmth wetting my hand, my breasts shuddering as I pant for air, blood still leaking from my throat. I’ve become a filthy mess for him.

“My little toy likes to play games,” he purrs, releasing my ankle. “I suppose turnabout is fair play.”

Lowering my foot, I brace myself upright on my elbows to scrutinise him. His hand is wrapped firmly around his cock, pumping the veiny steel. It makes my mouth go dry.

“You’re damn right it’s fair.” I trace my tongue over my lips. “Now, why don’t you come here and fuck me?”

“I’m allowed to move now?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Yes. But don’t push your luck.”

Xander prowls farther onto the bed. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

I shuffle backwards so my head rests on the pillows. He kneels between my legs, his thigh muscles bulging. But he doesn’t move. The man hovers stiller than a statue and wears a goddamn smirk.

He scours every inch of me like he’s seeing me for the first time. Or perhaps seeing me differently now that our rivalry has been thrown into question. The wait for him to finally snap and take charge is excruciating.

“Xan…”

“Something you want? You seemed quite content to deny me and satisfy yourself a moment ago.”

Hissing, I stare up at the white ceiling. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“As advertised.”

The air displaces around me as I feel his hands seize my body. I’m quickly flipped, so fast I’ve barely sucked in a shocked breath before my face hits the pillow.

Xander lifts my hips to pull my ass up high before white-hot pain crackles across my left butt cheek. The smack is hard and fast. Fiery tingles spread, bringing a surge of pleasure with them. When he hits me again on the other cheek, I can’t hold back a loud moan.

The constantly-shifting dynamic makes me feel raw and untethered. I know damn well that’s his intention. He wants all the control for himself. Despite all my bravado, I’m far too ready to give in.

“I want to fuck your beautiful little cunt while I hold your life in my hands,” he admits in a rough growl.

Twisted anticipation explodes through me.

“Yes,” I mewl. “Do it.”

Xander’s heated skin brushes against my pebbled nipples as he reaches behind me. Cool metal kisses the side of my neck, behind my jaw. I don’t need to see the knife to know that’s what it is.

Xander strokes my skin with the razor-sharp edge. “So beautiful.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” I stifle a groan.

“Maybe you should be.”

My body tightens as need pulses between my thighs.

“There are a great many arteries in the human neck,” he says conversationally. “Internal and external carotid. Jugular. Vital muscles and branches. So many fragilities.”

It shouldn’t turn me on to hear his unhinged musings. The man could end my life with a single slash. Once upon a time, I would’ve been sobbing in terror, convinced he’d do just that.

The pleasure spawns from knowing that he won’t. Not now. This Xander wants to hold my still-beating heart in his palm, just so he can put it back behind my ribcage with the memory of his touch.

It aggravates my healing bruises and injuries to be bent over, but the moment his fingers press against my slit, pain is overtaken by near-animalistic need. His finger swirls over my pussy in a cruel taunt.

“So wet,” Xander marvels before spanking me again, the jolt causing the knife to shift. “Is all that from putting on your clever little show?”

“Xan… Fuck.”

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