Page 69 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
When Cassius reaches for the hem of my collared dress, I hesitate. I’m not ready for him to see my scar. He removes my clothes, his actions quick and practiced. My hair is long enough that if I adjust it, it will cover most of my throat. My movements are equally as quick. The scar goes unnoticed.
Cassius leans down to kiss my neck. I move out of his reach, backing myself to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes ignite as I spread my knees wide. He grips his hard shaft. The shame I would usually feel in baring myself so fully doesn’t even register. Neither does the giddiness that having such an effect on a handsome man would.
As he stalks toward me, I scoot back, propping myself on a pillow. Cassius crawls onto the bed. The rickety craftsmanship creaks beneath the weight of him. He stops his ascent by my knees, lowering his face between my thighs.
That feels too personal. I’m too detached for personal right now.
His skin is burning as I bury my fingers in his shoulders and pull him on top of me.
I let him kiss me again. Mouth against mouth. A trace of arousal whispers somewhere from the shadows of my mind, just out of arm’s length. It swiftly retreats when I reach for it. Even the prince cannot bait it out.
The nudge of Cassius’s swollen tip at my entrance is a welcome distraction from the overwhelming nothingness that’s driving me deeper into an inescapable prison of self-isolation.
The slow press of his hips guides more of his length inside. He’s girthy. My skin stings where he stretches me. Maybe it’s just because I’m not warmed up. Still, that small bite of pain fills my well of emptiness a few small drops. I need more.
“Does that hurt?” Cassius peers down at me, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He’s holding back. Of course he is. Cassius is a gentleman.
“Keep going,” I encourage. He slides deeper. No foreplay or romantic warmups. My muscles fight to relax. Cassius senses my tenseness and pulls back.
Wrapping my legs around the thick muscles of his lower back, I pull him lower and tilt my hips up. His full length presses in. We both gasp. Blood rushes to my lower region, creating a pulse where my skin is stretched the tightest.
Finally. The pain, the pulsing, the wet arousal coating him each time he sheathes himself in me. Each sensation brings me back into my body a little bit more.
“Harder,” I say. Cassius’s breath catches in his throat. His hips pick up but he’s still holding back. “Harder, please.”
I need to feel more.
“Princess,” he says cautiously.
“Harder, Cassius.”
He pulls back again. The physical sensations stutter out. That unbearable numbness overtakes me. No emotions. Just an empty void in my stomach and lungs. Physical sensations are theonly thing I can feel right now and even they’re muted. I’m losing touch with everything.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He’s so damnednice. Sorry to disappoint you, Prince Chivalrous, but pain is exactly what I need right now.
Wiggling out from beneath him, I roll off the bed and lunge toward the kitchen. This would be an excellent time to have my dagger. Leaving it behind was stupid. Deep down I knew I would offer myself to Cassius. I don’t feel the disgust I should.
Cassius swings his legs to sit on the edge of the bed, looking utterly defeated. I need to crack his armor. There must be a selfish man in him, with violent needs and wicked desires. All men are that way beneath the surface. They only pretend to be gentlemen.
“I’m sorry, I want to support you. You’ve had a hard day?—”
“Dammit, Cassius. Drop the coddling prince act. I don’t want support.” I grab a butcher knife off the counter and whirl on him. Is this what it will take to trigger the predator I know is lying in wait? The one I’ve only glimpsed in momentary flashes of a slipped mask. If I threaten his life, will his darkness arise?
We all do things we’re not proud of when we feel threatened. I want him to show me what would happen if he let loose all that masculine dominance, free of any politeness or niceties. What would he do in the darkness if he knew no one would find out? Those parts, the ones that fantasize about terrible things, they live inside all of us.
I need more. Pain is all I can feel right now. If I have to, I’llmakehim hurt me.
Crawling onto the comforter, I press the tip of the knife to his chest. Give me the man who has lost all self-control. “I don’t want safe. I don’t want comfortable. I want you tofucking break me. Show me your darkness. I know it’s in there.”
A tiny drop of blood pools where the metal meets his bare chest.
“Or are all those muscles only for show? Maybe you’re too weak to give me what I need.” Who am I? I barely recognize myself as I speak. Or maybe I’ve finally let my darkness speak for me. “Lose control for me. Show me those hidden fantasies. I know they’re in there, so fucking give in.”
I push the knife deeper, puncturing his skin. Cassius stares down in disbelief. It only lasts a second. His hand grips my wrist so hard, I cry out. The knife falls. He drags me off the bed without a word.
“Wait, where?—”
I cry out again as he drops me on the floor. My back hits the hard wood, stealing my air. Cassius doesn’t give me a chance to breathe. He mounts me, gripping my throat with one hand, my hip with the other. His cock slams between my thighs and I suck in a breath at last.
