Page 109 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“When? When were you planning on telling me?” He turned and took a few steps toward me, and I dipped my head the second I caught his eyes. His gaze was piercing, and I swore I saw a faint shimmer, emotions welling at the surface, and I knew I’d start to cry the minute I gave into it.

“I don’t know, Rain. I needed to talk to Mairin again, and then Faxon happened, and I just needed a moment to wrap my head around all of it and what it means.” He stopped, standing a few feet in front of me, and I kept my eyes on the ground.

“And you didn’t think I might need to wrap my head around it, too?” I finally raised my eyes to him, and to my surprise, I found myself not filled with tears, but righteous anger instead.

“No! I didn’t think you needed to wrap your gods damn head around it, and given the fact you justproposedto me, I clearly wasn’t wrong, was I? You have proven to me over and over again how you feel. I have fought you every single time when you’ve made it clear, and in this, I knew you were certain. I stopped questioning it. I knew where you stood, and I thought you’d understand when I eventually told you. That you’d understand why I might have needed a gods damn minute!” I was shouting again, and I hoped to the gods wherever the others were staying in the house was far, far away from Rainier’s suite.

“What I understand is you’remine, and by not telling me, you made me think there was a chance you weren’t.” He dropped his crossed arms to his sides and took a step toward me.

“I’m notyours. I’m not a—a thing to be kept.” I knew that wasn’t how he meant it, but I didn’t care. As he approached, I pulled my arms protectively around me, and his eyes raked over my body.

“You might not be my property, but you are mine as I am yours.” He was close enough to smack, to touch, to hit, to kiss.

“Says Mairin.” Meeting his eyes, I knew my defiance was wearing thin.

“Says thegods. Are you trying to tell me it doesn’t explain everything?” He was incredulous—the idea that we were anything but twin flames, predestined by the gods, was absurd to him now that the possibility was here in front of him.

“No, I just needed a minute, alright?” I pushed him away but he grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to him.

“Well, time’s up.” Holding my wrist with one hand, he opened the tiny box with his other. I gazed up at him, my breath shaking and throat working, as I felt cool metal slide onto my ring finger. I refused to look at it, to look anywhere but into deep green eyes reflecting the flames behind me and the flames in my heart.

“I didn’t say yes.”

“I know.”

And then his hand was grabbing my hair, holding it in his fist, as he pulled my head back, roughly kissing the length of my neck, nipping me with his teeth. He used his other hand to rip his shirt from my body, the buttons falling to the ground. I reached to help, to free the buttons instead of ripping them, and he forcefully threw my hand aside, almost angry, a low growl vibrating against my throat. With one last hard tug, he finished ruining his shirt, and it fell to the floor. He pulled back from my neck, his eyes raking down my naked body as his fingers drew delicate circles across my breasts. I was molten gold under his hands, shining and heated.

“You belong to me, Emmeline.” I glared up at him as he flicked one sensitive nipple and then the other when I didn’t reply. He slid his hand down, tracing the swell of my breast, my stomach, down, down, down to my warm center. His fingers brushed through my wetness, and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to react, not to cry out for him, not to show him just how much I needed him. My body was a traitor to my will as I arched into his fingertips, both of my hands braced on the chair behind me. He withdrew his touch, and I opened my eyes as he lifted his fingers to his lips, slowly sucking on them as he looked at me.

“You taste like you belong to me.” I felt an ache deep inside me, and I glared up at him as I pressed the flat of my palm against his hardness, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide what was waiting for me. He used both hands to grab me by the ass, pulling me against him, trapping my hand between us, as his lips found mine. Lips and tongue and teeth crashed together. I tasted myself on his lips, and I found it so indecent I let out a soft groan, thinking of his tongue inside me. I rubbed down the length of him with my palm, rough and unforgiving. He let out a soft grunt as he moved his hands to my thighs, pulling me up so that my legs wrapped around his waist. I threw my arms around his neck as I rolled my hips, rubbing myself against him just like I liked it, the sweetest torture.

He bit my lip as he moved, slamming us into the bookshelves on one side of the fireplace. He was a force, a wild flame, and he was going to take and destroy and burn me alive. He used one hand to brace against the books while the other slid down my body, skimming over my breast, then my ribs, finally settling at my hip, while he pushed his body against mine. We kissed like we didn’t need air to breathe, like we wouldn’t have the time. He tugged my bottom lip into his mouth, causing me to moan and push against him. I cut off his answering groan by biting his lip, hard enough to hurt. Letting him see I wanted it to hurt. I wanted everything between us to feel the same: frenzy and passion and pain. I loved this man, that much I knew to be true. I loved him in a way I’d never been able to love anyone else. The type of love which burns bright and quick but no less devastating. But we’d never stopped burning.

His tongue slid between my lips, forceful and thorough. It was a preview of what was to come when we made love. Because that was certainly happening. As sure as I drew breath, I knew it was the right time. I would pour him into my body as I’d already poured him into my soul. The rest would come later.

He slid one hand to my neck, pulling my hair into his fist, as he moved my head just where he needed it. His lips drifted down to my neck before he clamped down, biting hard enough that I cried out and ripped my fingernails down his back. He hissed and ground his hard length against my soft center before he took my mouth again. A fierce need drove through me. The need to make him mine. To show him, finally, that I was on the same page. I wanted him just as desperately now as I ever had. I needed him.

He moaned into my mouth before he spun us around, carrying me to the giant bed we’d been lying on not long ago. He slammed me down as I let go of his neck, and I fell, my hair fanning out around me, my body fully bared. Heart and soul, body and mind, I belonged to him. I was his, and it was clear he intended to claim, to prove it as fact. He climbed on top of me, his tongue forcing past my lips, and I held back, biting his lip hard. When he pulled away, his eyes were full of delight and mischief. A promise that I’d pay for the small hurt. He slid down lower, kissing down my neck, my breast, swirling his tongue over one nipple then the other as he kissed between them, inhaling the smell of his soap on my skin before he looked up, grinning.

“You smell like mine.” He continued kissing down my body until he roughly positioned my legs, bent at the knees, and lowered himself, tracing his tongue clear up the center of me. He watched me as I moaned, and my back arched; the feeling of his tongue for only a moment was torture. I wanted his tongue inside me, his fingers, his cock. I wanted him to fill me, and I ached at the lack of him. He gave me another long lick, ending with a flick to my clit. I grunted at the need, at the feel of such a tease, and glared down at him. He gave me a devious grin before he pulled my clit into his mouth, sucking me, allowing the slightest caress of teeth on the sensitive spot, and I threw my head back, moaning loudly.

“This is definitely mine.” I hissed in frustration, angry he was stopping to talk. He stared up at me, gaze narrowed and brows lowered. “Who does this belong to?” I glared down at him, annoyed at the interruption, frustrated by his need to possess, but he just watched me expectantly, his lips glistening in the low light. He leaned back down and nipped my clit, and I cried out before he stopped again, watching me. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, trying to close the distance between his mouth and that spot.

“I asked you a question, ocean eyes.”

I groaned and slid my hand down. If he wouldn’t do what I needed, I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. He grabbed my wrist before I even got close and held my hand down at my side.

“No, Em. You don’t come until I say so. I’ll ask you again, who does this sweet, little cunt belong to?”

He flattened his tongue as he licked me from base to clit, his tongue dipping just inside my entrance before he stopped. He hovered just over that bundle of nerves, his breath hot on me, waiting for me to answer. The need for him to fill me, to fuck me, to make me come, finally outweighed my desire to defy him.

“You! It belongs to you.” I shouted at him, eager for him to continue.

“You’re gods damn right it belongs to me.”

He dipped his head and picked up where he left off, nipping that sensitive spot before he slid his tongue down the length of me. I arched into him, pushing up into his face, grinding myself onto his tongue. His hands spanned the backs of my thighs as he pushed them back, knees approaching my chest, opening me up farther to the assault of his tongue. Moving one hand down to slide through his hair while the other gripped the sheet, I scratched his scalp, dragging my fingernails across his skin as he continued nibbling and sucking on my clit. He made a soft, contented sound I felt through my body, and I was almost overcome by the intimacy. Gods, to know I could make him make that noise while he made me feel like this? I felt powerful.

His tongue circled my entrance before he slid his mouth back up to my clit, and he shoved two of his fingers inside me. I was ready for him, slick, but the use of two at once was a surprise. The sensation pulled a deep moan from low within me. I already felt so tight, but it wasn’t enough. I heard him groan as I felt myself squeeze around his fingers tightly, desperate to be filled. Desperate to have him inside me. Desperate for more. He moved, fingers going in and curling upwards as he placed his other hand palm-down, lightly applying pressure right above my pubic bone. I started panting and writhing, feeling a whole new layer of bliss and pleasure I’d never felt before. He beat a rhythm with his fingertips inside me, and I arched off the bed, an endless moan coming from the back of my throat. He had sat up so I could see his outline in the light of the fire behind him. In the low light, I could barely make out his face, but his eyes glinted with lust as he took me in. I didn’t hide my expression, allowing him to see how crazed he made me. I had one hand in my hair, tugging, the sting pulling me back to reality. I whimpered as I dragged my other hand up to my breast, kneading and rubbing, while he continued destroying me, bringing me to the brink of something savage and wild. He kept at it until I was screaming his name, coming on his fingers. Every muscle in my body tightened and released as I came down from it. I laid there, a wanton pile of limbs, shaking as he withdrew his fingers. My body clenched, not wanting to lose the feeling of being filled. He kissed up my legs while I caught my breath, giving me a lazy smirk when I met his eyes.

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