Page 128 of Black Castle

There truly is something rotten inside her.

The sound of water settles around Vivienne, cascading from the showerhead in a steady, relentless rhythm. It drums against the tiled floor, ricocheting off the glass walls in a symphony of white noises.

Yet, even through the rush of water, she hears it—two heartbeats. One steady, controlled. The other pulsing with untamed energy. And then, there are his fingers. Skilled, relentless, teasing the most sensitive part of her.

“I am going back to Russia in a week,” Zev murmurs, his voice merging with the static noise of water.

She gasps as two fingers slide inside her, slick and unyielding.

They have been at this for hours. The sex. She should have known. His mission was clear from the moment he asked her how many times Ian slept with her. So twelve orgasms were his plan, each one designed to erase every memory of Ian from her body, from her mind. And he had succeeded. Because when she closed her eyes at the eleventh round, her mind racing back to two months ago on Ian’s couch, the pizza box slightly tilted, about to fall off the coffee table, sweaty bodies slamming against each other, moans filling the room, Zev’s face was all she could see.

“Okay,” she forces out, the water slipping into her mouth, mixing with the taste of him still lingering on her tongue.

“I’m taking you with me.”

Her eyes snap open, the pleasure draining quickly from her body as the water rushes down the drain. She jolts away, her pussy mourning the loss of contact.

“What?” she demands, blinking against the spray, her pulse skittering.

“You seem upset,” he says, running a hand through his wet hair. “Why?”

For a moment, she forgets to argue. White hair, skin like an untouched snow, golden eyes burning with embers of wicked intent, long lashes dusted with droplets of water like fragile frost. He shouldn’t be this beautiful. It would have been easier to hate him.

“Dude, I have school I need to attend. My life is literally here, and oh, I’m not your possession, and you don’t get to drag around!” She makes wild gestures with her hand, fumes almost emitting from her ears.

A gentle smirk lifts the corner of his perfect lips as though he finds her reaction funny. “How many times will we have this conversation until you accept that you belong to me now?”

“For Christ’s sake, Zev, I’m not yours!” she yells.

His expression darkens, jaw working. “Are you Lucan’s then?”

“I don’t belong to either of you. Especially you.”

Zev tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Would you say the same thing you are saying now if I were inside you right now?” His voice is low, taunting. “Because from where I stand, you only tell me what I want to hear when my cock is buried inside you.”

A shiver runs through her. The mere suggestion of it ignites something deep, something she refuses to name. Her thighs press together instinctively, seeking friction, but it does nothing to quell the ache.

“I can’t follow you to Russia,” her tone is reasonably low and clinical, like talking to a wounded animal. “I’m already a year behind. This is my final chance to graduate. And I must graduate. I can’t be stuck in high school till I’m twenty.”

“There are hundreds of schools in Russia,” he says. “Say the word and you’ll get a direct transfer.”

“Can you stop listening to your own voice for once and hear mine?” Her tone is sharp and cutting, and his eyes flash with rage. “Please,” she quickly adds in a softer voice.

He inhales sharply, blinking against the water on his face. “You are too far away,” he murmurs, voice lazy. “I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

Vivienne rolls her eyes, stepping closer. He doesn’t give her a chance to retreat as his hands seize her waist immediately, pressing her against the cool glass wall. One arm braces above her head, the other snaking down, slipping between her thighs.

“Convince me,” he whispers against her damp skin, his lips hovering over her hard nipple, teasing. “Tell me why I should leave you behind when you’re still going on dates with your former lover?”

His fingers finally slide inside her slick wall, his thrusts slow, deliberate, yet it still makes her breath catch. Then his mouth latches onto her breast, nipping, biting, sucking.

“Start talking, Vivienne,” he commands, curling his fingers inside her.

“Please,” she moans instead, the plea slipping from her lips before she even knows what she’s begging for. Is it for him to stop? For his cock to be inside her right now instead of his fingers? Or for him to let her stay, for him to never leave?

“How do I trust that you won’t spread this fucking thighs for other men while I’m gone, hmm?” His thumb circles her clit, a low growl settling in his throat as if he can barely stomach the thought. “On a lonely night when you are craving my cock, will you let another man shove their dick inside this pussy?”

Her eyes snap open, meeting his dark, burning gaze. “I’m not some cheap whore, you know?” she bites out, his accusation settling a bitter taste on her tongue.

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