Page 99 of When Night Falls

"You're a fucking nightmare you know that? A nightmare that I can't wake up from," he whispers into my mouth, and I moan.

"It's a good thing you seem to love the dark," I say back to him and before I can reach back up for his mouth, he's pushing himself up away from me.

"What are you-"

"Up!" he demands and I don't waste a second. I'm up off the bed and to my feet in no time. Rivian grabs me by my hips andspins me around. I gasp as he forces me to bend over, my mind racing at what he's planning to do.

"You are the one thing I can't deny myself," he says as he trails his fingers along my backside. I feel a breeze hit the back of my thighs and I know it's because he's lifted up my dress. "You have such a fucking grip on my soul that it burns, Lucynda. I've never felt fire like the flames that burn for you."

It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him again . . .why can't you love me then?But I keep my mouth shut knowing that I don't want anything to ruin this moment.

Rivian grabs hold of my hair and twists it in his hand before yanking me back upright, spinning me to face him again.

"You're right, Lucynda. You have given me nearly everything I asked for." His voice is less urgent and harsh now. His timbre is a bit softer.

"Are you ready to give me just one more thing?"

32

bleed for me

Lucynda

I wait for his instruction. Despite my frustration toward him, I hang on to his every word, waiting patiently for him to tell me exactly what to do next.

I blink my eyes one moment thinking I know exactly what I want. Then I breathe Rivian Duquesne's air—my husband—and nothing before mattered. He's changing me, constantly. Since meeting him, my world has been rocked to its core and I still can't tell if I love it or hate it. But the only thing I know for sure is that my body is on fire and the flames are burning hungrily to the depths of my core.

I look up at him with a pleading look in my eyes. He still has his hand wrapped around my hair, but he doesn't pull very tight. I won't lie, I wouldn't mind if he did pull a little tighter, threaten to tear my hair from my head, maybe that would give me a tangible reason to be this upset with him, but I quickly realize I can't be upset if I'm nearly dripping, waiting for my newhusband to start ripping my clothes off my body. I like when he's rough with me, when he shows me just how powerful he is. But the look in his eyes flicks from dark notes of sinful menace to those vibrant greens of gentleness and passion.

He lets go of his grip, bringing me in for a kiss before asking me to turn around. He lowers his voice creating a dangerously intimate setting before us, losing the harsh tone he's been using, showing me that he can be gentle.

I do as I'm told and turn around to give him my back. I feel light traces of warm air skate over my shoulder and neck, the delicate skin combusting with evidence of what he does to me. My breath hitches as his fingertips graze my skin to push my hair over my shoulder and away from my back.

For some reason, I expect him to bite me. I kind of hope he does. But instead, I feel his expert fingers trail down my exposed skin then over the fabric before he starts to work the intricate lacing undone on the back of my corset dress. I feel as if he is unraveling me while he unties the bow at the bottom and loosens a row of lace from its loops then moves on to the next row. He takes his time, one by one as he works the silk ribbons to loosen my dress. This alone has me feeling utterly weak to the man I've just sworn to have and to hold, till death do us part.

My breathing quickens as he nears the last row and I hate the way I miss his fingers dropping from my body once he's done. I don't move until he tells me, but I plaster the dress to my chest, not wanting to let it go just yet.

"I'm going to take care of you, little one," he whispers to me. I turn my head over my shoulder to see that he's looking at me, studying me.

I need to feel his eyes on me, so I turn around, still holding the dress in place and doing my best not to breathe so lustfully because my heart is racing and my body feels so warm to the attack of nerves and desire.

We stand there, silence hovering for only a moment more before he takes a step in my direction to tighten the gap between us.

"Let it down, Lucynda. Let everything down for me." Before Rivian has a chance to even let out his last two words,for me,I'm losing hold on the dress and letting it fall down. For him.

He's seen me naked before. I should be ashamed to admit that, but I’m not. I only feel timid about it now because this means something. Maybe not to him, but to me everything changes after tonight.

He takes another step forward, the dress pooled at my feet preventing him from coming as close as I want him, and he reaches his hand out to my chest.

I close my eyes in anticipation of his touch, feeling the fire in the pits of my belly raging. But he simply places his open palm over the beat of my heart.

"Let it down, Lucynda," he repeats again. I open my eyes to see him focusing on me, my eyes tethered to the fierceness of his stare. He's speaking to me, to my soul. "Feel this with me." He's using my own words against me and that's when I realize . . . before he might have been talking about my dress, but now, he's talking about my walls.

He wants me to let down the barriers that keep me from truly feeling the connection here. But I've already done that, I've trusted him with everything thus far, what more could he possibly want?

Let it down.

I shut my eyes once more as his ghostly whisper weaves into the fabric of my mind only to pluck at the stitching I've worked hard to tighten, keeping out the thoughts I can't be brave enough to face. My mind ventures into the darkest parts of where I keep things buried as the locks of my truth break, allowing me to pinpoint the very thing he's indicating.