Page 11 of Scent of Desire
“Your lips,” I murmured. “They taste just like that.”
“Perhaps because it’s the fruit of the dead. It belongs to hell.” He edged closer to me, and I craned my neck to meet his gaze and the strands of his raven hair dropping on his forehead. “Legends say if you eat some seeds, you’ll be bound to the person who fed them to you. It would grant immortal life, apparently.”
It was the forbidden fruit. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
His lips turned cruel. “That depends if you believe.”
My heart hammered as Radcliff towered dangerously closer to me. Our breaths connected, my nostrils getting drawn to the exotic ruby-rich aroma of the juices and the winey and sweet aroma of the seeds. All of that wrapped inside Radcliff’s dark fragrance to transport me inside a horse-drawn carriage passing through the middle of a maleficent enchanted forest.
“Care to have a bite?” the Devil tempted me.
I parted my lips as a reply. He brought the fruit above my mouth and squeezed it. I let the juice fall on my lips like the most delicious nectar. I drank each drop at the price of being bound to hell. It created some kind of trance in me. He fed me like I was his Cleopatra. I bit the seeds and licked my lips, not wanting to waste a drop.
But the red liquid had fallen from my lips to travel over my breast. Radcliff stopped the course of the juice when it reached my nipple. His fingers traced teasing circles, skimming on my bare skin with adoration. The juice tinted part of my body in a poppy color—the flower of offering to the dead.
Another drop of pomegranate juice fell on the creamy dream of the milk bath. Like a bloodstain, it diffused into the whiteness.
It was a simple act. Yet, I knew the consequences would be fatal.
“What now?” I dared to tease.
“You’re mine.”
He entered the tub like a warrior of the night or a demon prince reaching the forbidden heaven. The milk hugged his darkness, and the red blood elixir of the remaining pomegranates spread inside the bath like unholy water.
Radcliff positioned himself behind me. His breath tingled my neck, and the flames inside the room shook as if a violent draft had threatened to shut them off. Shivers spread, and he fisted my hair in a ponytail. His lips kissed my neck, finding all the sensitive spots that made my head fall backward.
Hunger poured inside my heart, and I arched my back for my butt cheeks to tease his hardness. I sought to touch him, my hand traveling to his manhood. Just as I did, taking him inside my milky palm, he cuffed my hand behind my back, keeping control of the situation.
“Oh, little witch, you shouldn’t have done that,” he breathed, half with a wicked laugh, half grunting. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”
The word “why” was on the tip of my tongue when his hardness brushed over my folds. It diffused into a loud moan when he slammed into me, igniting my world in a red-tinted movie. At first, a shout of pain pierced through my core, and then, the line blurred with pleasure. His drives were forceful, his grip on my hips hard, as if he had no control over his demonic compulsions and was afraid of letting me go.
I dug my nails into his hands, searching for something to hold, feeling him deeper than he’d ever gone before. Our exchange smelled of a volcano erupting into a red sky, where poppies grew like giants and beauty was built on chaos.
“Radcliff…” I moaned.
That’s when he gripped my throat to bring my back to his torso and sealed his lips on mine. I kissed him with all my strength and soul, and neither of us pulled away for fear it’d be the last, that we were going to be torn from each other. His tongue invaded my mouth to meet my own, and I let him consume me.
Our kiss was beautiful, in the way pain was. The simmer of our darkness was building up, until the searing fire aroused us to a point of no return. Blood flowed in my veins with adrenaline, and the stirring pain made my heart gallop.
It was also magical and haunted. A total abandonment. In each of his thrusts, he created another world for us. An illusion. A magical realm where we were rulers.
His calloused hand clutched my breast as his other slapped my butt cheek. My sighs of pleasure echoed across the room, engraving themselves into the stones forever. Radcliff’s tall shadow shook on the walls, growing larger. The hardness of his grip on my butt cheek made me shift my eyes to him.
He may have pounded hard into me, dominating me with all his dark aura, but his eyes were solely mine. I saw the agony and conflict inside of them. I had the power over him: the one that made him feel. I traced with my gaze each of his muscles as they contracted. He tugged my hair, and a gasp escaped my mouth.
“Lily,” he groaned.
He released his hold on me and made me bend over, cuffing my wrists with one of his hands. The other gave another slap on my butt cheek, and the tips of my breasts touched the milky bath. It wasn’t so white anymore. Purple and crimson shadows colored it with the image of my flaming pleasure.
I rolled my hips to meet his merciless drives and lifted my head to not crumble inside the bath. My knees buckled, my eyes rolling behind. I bit my lower lip so hard that I tasted the metallic tang of blood.
I let myself be carried away by the moment. The steam of the bath and the heat inside me made me boil. My cheek grazed the milk in total abandonment, and then my head was under, plunging into the bath. I held my breath, letting the soft feel of milk permeate my face.
Radcliff brought my head out of the bath, making me spin around so fast that my senses abandoned themselves to his. We faced each other, and his lips nibbled on my neck as if his craving couldn’t be satiated. He lifted me with ease, and the drops ran down my skin.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, and my fingers tangled in his hair. His pace increased harder and deeper. My breath cut off, suffocating. His grunts grew animal and primal. My eyebrows knit together as the waves of pleasure slammed into me, my clit pulsing with need. I dug my nails into his skin, and he gripped my leg in a way that would leave a bruise for days.
