Page 104 of Wild Flame

The kiss tasted of all the frustration, anger, remorse, confusion, and tension we were both feeling. I clutched his shoulders, pulling him closer, as his hand fisted in my hair. His tongue sought mine, owning me with the sheer heat and carnality of it. I forgot everything except for the feel of him against me, his scent in my lungs. His hands roamed my body as the kiss turned frenzied, both of us fighting to get closer. His hands went to the neck of my suit, fisting in the cloth.

“You have ten seconds to take this off,” he warned, chest heaving.

I did as he said as he stripped down as well, his eyes never leaving me. The moment I was bare he pressed me back into the wall, yanking my legs up around his waist. His mouth devouring mine once more.

His hardness pressed against my center, and I moaned at the wicked feel of him gliding back and forth in the wetness he found there. I was crazed, desperate to feel him inside me. But he didn’t enter me. Instead, he remained there, poised at my entrance, his breaths coming in harsh, angry pulls as he brokethe kiss. His hand cupped the back of my neck. “Are you ever going to lie to me again, siren?”

“No,” I panted in answer. “Never again.”

He thrust inside me.

I cried out at his sudden intrusion. He began a slow, torturous pace that had every nerve ending in my body coming alive. My head fell back, and his hot mouth found my throat, licking and sucking. His hands moved to grasp my wrists, pressing them into the wall, sliding them slowly upward until he grasped them in one hand, high over my head. His other hand moved to play with my breasts, driving me insane with the pleasure he evoked. An involuntary shudder passed through me, and my inner muscles gripped him tighter.

He grunted and began plunging into me even harder. He hooked one leg over his arm, each vigorous thrust fighting to push me up the wall, but his body held mine in place. I loved that I could do nothing but take it. My heart was pounding, and my breaths were coming too fast as the erotic sensations bombarded me.

Seeking an outlet, I turned my head and bit down on the binding mark on his wrist.

“Realms!” he cursed.

I couldn’t help the feral grin that graced my lips as I laved the spot with my tongue.

He released my hands and braced his forearms against the wall on either side of my head and leaned forward so our chests were touching. My sensitive nipples rubbed against his hot skin and sent tiny shards of bliss through me. My release was building fast as my jaw clenched and my toes curled.

He kissed the moan from my lips, then I clung to him as he continued those ruthlessly rhythmic strokes. My nails dug so hard into his back I knew I had to be leaving marks. He didn’t seem aware of it though, or maybe he just didn’t care.

Tearing me from the wall, we tumbled to the floor onto one of the cushioned rugs at the foot of our bed. The plush fabric soft on my skin.

His eyes glinted down at me. “Not close enough,” he muttered, almost as if he were speaking to himself. I gasped in surprise as he pulled out and, with what seemed like no effort, flipped me to my stomach, then tugged my hips up while my chest remained level with the floor.

A deeper part of me that I would never admit to loved how he could move my body around any way he wanted. The dominance and power of it spoke to an instinctual feminine part of me.

I turned my head to stare back at him. His hands slid possessively down my back. For once, I was not even thinking of my scars as he knelt behind me.

He sank back into me, and I groaned as he growled a hum of satisfaction in answer.

I cried out and squirmed beneath him, not sure if I could take anymore. The pleasure was too great, making my core pulse and my vision darken. I was gasping and writhing on the ground.

“Good girl,” he growled. “Look at you taking me so well.”

His words, combined with the feeling of him inside me, were my undoing, and I climaxed. I shattered into a million pieces. He followed me a few moments later and collapsed on the floor beside me.

Sometime later, as we lay in bed with me sprawled half over his chest, Malik warned, “Do not think this delectable body of yours has distracted me from getting my answers. I still have questions.”

I sighed, deciding I might as well get this over with. “Ask away.”

“Does your father know about The Order?”

“I’ve always assumed so, but I don’t know if he suspects Silvanus’ involvement.” Though if Leif’s assumptions in the alleywere anything to go by . . . maybe my father—and by extension his riders—knew a lot more about Silvanus and his operation than I realized.

“Was it this Silvanus, this priest, who picked your targets?”

“What?”

“You said you are only ever given a name and a location,” Malik clarified. “So, who is giving you the orders? I’m assuming the Dark God himself is not delivering them to you.”

I nodded hesitantly. “Yes, it was Silvanus. Why does that matter?”

“Because I intend to ask him who gave him the contract to kill Zara.”

---