Page 49 of Burn Like An Angel

“Or is it the threat of death that gets you so wet?”

“Please, just…”

“Just what?” His palm crashes into my ass so hard, it rattles my bones.

Hiding my face in the pillow, I cry out. Each hit blends agony and ecstasy in an excruciatingly perfect way. I could climax from his punishing spanks alone, I’m so wound up.

Xander slides two fingers into me, stoking the furnace with each deliberate pump. I rock into his hand, desperately trying to relieve myself.

“You asked me to fuck you.” He tuts and withdraws them. “So behave.”

Fucking behave?

“This is how it’s going to work.” Xander inserts his fingers into me again and resumes pumping. “I’ll give you whatever broken excuse of a soul I have left. In exchange, I want you to make the pain inside me stop.”

Fisting the anti-ligature bedsheets, I want to scream at the top of my lungs. Beg him. Plead with him. Use his fucking pocketknife to carve out my heart and offer it to him on a silver platter if it means he’ll relent.

“How?” I gasp.

“By giving yourself to me. All of you.”

“I… I don’t know how.”

“You do. It goes like this.”

His fingers vanish, but before I can yell out in frustration, I feel his cock plunge into me. He doesn’t inch in with any grace or patience. Xander buries himself to the hilt and waits for me to scream out.

The moment I do, he withdraws then slams back home with a loud grunt. He’s blasting past my limits and fucking me as roughly as I’d hoped he would.

The room is filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together and my gasps each time his knife slices into me. Feeling every shallow nick is enough to keep the exhilarating danger ever-present. He knows exactly how to push my limits, and my body is addicted to the adrenaline rush.

Melting into a puddle of pure sensation, days of anxiety from watching our world erupt disappears. The fire he’s injecting into my veins becomes my whole existence.

Now I’m the one burning.

Happily.

And he can keep the fucking ashes.

Xander keeps me suspended on the edge of the highest cliff as he holds me at knife point, moaning with each flex of his hips.He pulls out almost to the point of withdrawal before surging back in each time.

When he spanks me again, the blow makes his length spasm inside me. We both groan at the same time, overwhelmed by the deep, penetrating vibrations that ignite every last nerve ending.

“You did this to me,” he accuses angrily. “You made me care, Ripley. You made me give a shit when no one else could. How?”

I’d laugh if I wasn’t terrified of slitting my own throat. Even like this, he’s hung up on where the true power lies. He has to be the most obsessive creature I’ve ever met.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

Xander’s thrusts gain momentum, becoming deeper and rougher. “Neither do I. That’s what terrifies me—not knowing how this stupid, goddamn useless organ in my chest works.”

His heat pistoning into me abruptly disappears. I choke back a sob when the knife vanishes from my neck, totally overwhelmed by emotions. Relief. Frustration. The thrill is mind-boggling.

I’m on the verge of shouting at the sadistic son of a bitch when I’m flipped over. My back meets the bed, leaving me sprawled out in front of Xander.

Hovering over me, his sweat-dotted skin betrays how much his control has frayed. He can be passionate, but he was always clinical. There’s no sign of that cold fascination right now, though. Obsession, sure.

But it feels personal this time.

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