Page 68 of Breaking Isolde
I drag my teeth down her sternum, then lower, and bite a fresh bruise just above her nipple. She gasps, claws at my hair, yanks me up to kiss her again. Her lips are swollen, but she doesn't care. She wants it raw.
The Board is dead silent. I can feel the Boys watching, but they're background noise—less real than the pulse in Isolde’s throat or the shallow, panicked gasps as I squeeze her hip until the blood comes back in my fingerprints.
I unzip my pants. The sound is loud, and a few of the donors flinch.
I press my cock against her thigh, slide it through the blood and dirt, and rub the head against her clit before slapping it. She tries to clamp her legs together, but I force them apart and settle my weight on her chest.
"Say it," I tell her, voice low enough only she can hear. "Say you want me."
She shakes her head, giggling. "Fuck you," she whispers.
I push two fingers into her, slow, and twist until she gasps. "Say it."
She whimpers, fights to keep her face blank, but the tremor in her voice betrays her.
"You want this, Isolde," I say. "You want me to ruin you."
Her eyes go glassy. She bites her lip, sliding it through her teeth, then finally hisses, "Just do it. I want it."
"Not good enough," I say, and pull my fingers out. I grab her by the chin, dig my thumb into her jaw until she opens her mouth. "Once this is done, you're mine. Say it."
She holds my gaze for a long time. Her voice is ragged when she finally speaks. "I'm yours as long as you save me from this nightmare."
I grip her harder, just to feel her bones shift. "I will," I say.
I line up and push inside her. She’s tight, so tight, hot enough to melt the ice off the stone beneath her. I bury myself to the hilt, then hold still, feeling her body adjust around me. She claws my arms, leaving indents in my skin, then drags her nails down my chest.
I fuck her slow, deep, dragging it out so every thrust is a branding, a new mark to overwrite the old ones. Her hair fans out on the boulder, a red halo in the torchlight. Her lips part, butshe makes no sound. I kiss her again, softer this time, and she bites my tongue, sucking it as I pull back to watch my cock piston in and out of her.
I pick up the pace, slamming into her so hard the rock grinds against my knees. Her fists beat at my chest, at my face, but it’s nothing—little sparks against the bonfire in my veins. I lean in, fist a clump of muddy hair in one hand, and use the other to spread her open, thumb working relentless circles on her clit. She’s sobbing now, but it’s not from pain. She’s so wet the sound is all I hear, sucking me in deeper every time I bottom out.
The crowd is a smear of shadows and hunger, but all I see is the blue, glass-cutter edge of her eyes watching me, daring me to be what she never let herself ask for. Leaning forward, I spit in her mouth, watch it trail down her chin, and say, “You’re not getting away from me, wildcat. Ever.” She shakes with it—fighting, not yielding, not until the last second.
She breaks first. Her back arches clear off the stone, whole body tensing as she comes hard, muscles clenching around me, clamping as if to pull the soul out of my dick. Her teeth snap at my jaw, her thighs tense as she tries to close her legs, but I’m not going to stop. I want to see her ruined, want her to wake up tomorrow and know every inch of herself belongs to me.
I fuck her through the twitching, the aftershocks, until she’s limp on the altar, gasping air like a landed fish.
When I finally come, it's with her name in my mouth, her blood under my fingernails, and her body shaking beneath me.
I don't pull out.
It’s is so silent I can hear the wind in the pines and the soft, sticky sound of my cock inside her.
I watch her face as she blinks, slow, the anger draining out until nothing is left but a weird, trembling satisfaction.
She won.
Or maybe I did.
Or maybe we both lost, and that’s why it feels so fucking perfect.
I stay inside her until the cold is something I feel again, until the audience stands and shuffles out in a black procession.
She gets up on one elbow and the motion makes her tits jiggle and looks down at where we are joined, a small smile on her face. My cock is getting hard again, buried in her pussy, but I tuck her head under my chin and whisper, "You're safe now."
I want to say something more, some line to pin her here, with me, and never let her float away. But I am empty. The words are gone. There's only the pressure of her chest against mine, her rib cage fluttering as I hold her to me.
She blinks, slow, and finally looks at me. Something shifts and her brow furrows.
