Page 127 of Eldritch
Eyes screwed shut, he looked away. “Please go. I’ll handle this myself.”
“And how long have you beenhandlingthis yourself? I may not have the experiences with men to know what brings you pleasure. But I know pain and suffering, and the desperate need to be accepted for who you are. I’m not afraid of who you are.” With a gentle nudge against his chin, I brought his attention back to me. “Not even this.”
Although his face remained turned toward me, his gaze fell from mine.
Determined to prove my words true, I reached down into the blood-tinged water and, with my unscaled hand, took hold of him.
His muscles jerked, and he grasped my hand that encased his flesh, but he didn’t push me away.
“Show me everything. I want to see every part of you. Even the darkest.”
“Maevyth,” he said past clenched teeth. “I can’t do this to you.”
“You’re doing nothing to me. Now, tell me what you need.”
His expression twisted to sadness, and he shook his head.
“Tell me!” In my frustration, I tightened my grasp, not meaning to, but the way his lips parted and his head tipped slightly back told me he enjoyed it. “Is this what you like? To be handled roughly?”
“Harder.” He spat the word like poison on his tongue.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I gripped him tighter.
His muscles sagged, eyes shuttering closed. “Use your nails.”
But as I reluctantly dug my fingers into him, he shook his head.
“No. The others.”
A chill surged through my blood when it occurred to me what he meant. “But that willhurtyou.”
He rubbed his hand down his face and shook his head again, not bothering to lower his arm. “I can’t do this to you, Lunamiszka. I won’t. Please go.”
Frustrated, I took hold of him with the other hand, and a low, husky sound of pleasure rolled in his throat.
“Is this what you want, then?” I curled those ominous metallic nails into his undying erection and, through a shield of tears, watched his eyes shutter, his head tilt back. The vicioustips sank into his flesh, and my heart withered at the pained sound that spilled from his lips. Conflict burned inside of me, the need to prove that he could trust me, coupled with the agony of hurting him. Physically inflicting pain.
“Harder,” he rasped.
Tears slipped down my cheeks, as my nails sank deeper.
He let out a moan, his body shuddering, knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the bathtub.
His hand slipped beneath the water, his palm swallowing the back of mine as he doubled the tension, his jaw clenched so hard, the veins in his neck popped.
Panic wound through me. It was too much.
You’re hurting him! Stop!
“Zevander, please,” I whispered.
He ground his teeth, circling his hips beneath me, and let out a pained sound in his throat. Water splashed with the fervent shaking of his muscles, his face contorted in anguish.
“Zevander, look at me.”
He kept his eyes closed, and I couldn’t stand to imagine who, or what, flickered through his thoughts right then.
“Open your eyes,” I demanded. “Open them and look at me.”
