Page 150 of Cold-Blooded Creatures
A heavy weight settled on my hips, pinning me to the mattress, and a chill crept up my spine. Thrashing, I raked my nails down their muscular forearms. My feet slipped against the sheets as I tried to throw them off me.
I was not in Ilasall, I was not in Ilasall, this couldn’t be happening, no, no,no?—
Sharp metal pressed to my neck. My mouth dried out, and I stilled, squeezing my eyes shut, as if that could transport me out of here.
Barely grazing, the knife glided to my collarbone, right above my heaving chest. A hot body leaned close, and their warmbreath ghosted across my ear. “Pretty birdie, why did you fly away?”
He removed his palm, and I kicked harder, my pulse roaring. “Zi?—”
A strip of duct tape stifled my scream, and two more pieces followed. Hooking my nails under the corners to tear them off, I?—
Zion swiftly rolled me onto my stomach, putting an end to my futile efforts. As he tied my forearms parallel behind my back, I shouted endless curses into the makeshift gag.
How had he found me so fast? Eislyn had sworn she’d keep our trip a secret and pretend she had no clue about our whereabouts.
The neckline of my pajamas dug into my neck as Zion roughly gripped it and ripped the white t-shirt I’d stolen from him apart. He sliced the sleeves off and tossed the fabric aside, leaving me naked with my face stuffed into a pillow, muffling my protests.
A sudden burst of light scorched my vision, and I blinked rapidly to push the tears away. A tall silhouette came into focus, half of him illuminated by the bedside table lamp he’d turned on.
Gedeon’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you that if you try to flee, I will always find you and drag you back?”
“I always catch my birds.” Zion spun me around, and my arms became painfully compressed under my own back. “Always.”
Gedeon pinched my chin, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Is the tattoo not enough of a reminder for you?”
I began to yell that it never would be, but a streak of scarlet on his temple squashed my attempt. Was that his blood? Was he injured? The dim light and half my hair on my face obstructed my perusal of his form. He didn’t seem to limp or wince, so wasit Zion? Had he gotten hurt again? Did he require stitches? My heart raced as the duct tape smothered my mumbles. I was going to kill them for silencing me.
Gedeon nodded to Zion. “Do it.”
He hooked his knees behind mine, spreading my legs apart, and rested the tip of his knife below my left breast. Sharp pain followed the journey of Zion’s blade as he sliced a zigzag along my ribs, stopping at the valley of my breasts. As blood didn’t gush, I deduced he’d ensured the wounds would be superficial, but the burn alone lured out my whimpers.
Especially when he licked off the crimson coloring the blade. “You taste like addiction.”
If my heart had been pounding from fear at the beginning, now it was beating thunderously from how his actions and statement had heated me up.
His knife clutched in his fist, Zion lowered on his elbows on either side of my waist and traced the lines he’d carved out in me with his tongue. The cuts prickled, and my back bowed off the bed as he teased the underside of my breast. “So fucking sweet.”
He sucked my nipple into his mouth, flicked it, and my moan melted into a cry as his teeth caught it. Zion released the sensitive nub, and a pulsing sting washed over me, pooling between my legs, encouraging him to delve back to abuse my other nipple.
My thighs trembled from seeking to close them, his own keeping them apart and making each tiny brush of air from my writhing feel severe against my wetness.
He sat back on his heels, and pure sin curved his mouth upward. I held my breath as steel glided down my navel and between my folds. I choked from the cold sensation on my clit.
“Get her on top of you,” Gedeon growled, his command as icy as a raging sea.
Zion ripped off his shirt, tossing it on the floor and exposing his sculpted and scarred torso, and my core twitched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Spreading beside me, he manipulated my body so I straddled him while he lay on his back, and pushed his underwear down enough for his cock to spring free.
Despite being furious at them, I helped him align himself with me. Once his tip was inside me, he yanked my hips down, burying himself completely, and I gasped from the stretch.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, and I wished I could lose myself in the madness swirling in his eyes.
“Lean down,” Gedeon ordered, and Zion pulled me down on his chest, his hips shifting as Gedeon settled behind me.
He spread my ass cheeks, and something cold and wet dripped down the slit. “I told you what I would do the night of your tattoo.” Gedeon’s finger circled my puckered hole before pushing inside, moving with deliberate efficiency to prepare me, and I instinctively tensed. “I do not go back on my word.”
A second slick finger joined the first, pumping in and out of me a few dozen times, and a third one slipped inside. I clenched from the rough invasion, whimpering into the duct tape.
“I do not ask for permission, Kali. I simply take.” He braced a hand on my lower back. “And so will you. All of it.”
