Page 59 of Empire of Dark

My hands went down, ripping apart his dark button-down shirt, sending buttons flying, and I shoved his sleeves down off his arms.

I dropped his shirt behind him and froze with my lips parted when I saw the whole of him. He was a blasted marble statue, every curve of his torso, every cut of his muscles, hard and perfect.

Ink dotted his skin. Angry, morbid art—death walking. Tattoos of bones and serpents and chains and demons spreadingacross his chest and out onto his biceps. In the middle of his chest, right above his beating heart, a skull. A skull staring at me. Searing judgement into my soul.

He didn’t let me salivate for long as his mouth sank onto my neck, his teeth raking across my skin like he wanted to devour me, and his hand moved downward from my left breast to slide in along my waist until his palm was flat on my lower abdomen.

I knew exactly where he was going with this.

I whipped my fingers down, grabbing his wrist. “No.”

His head jerked away from my neck, his amber brown eyes searching my face.

“No. I want you.” I set my hand along the side of his face. “I don’t want your power. I want you.”

He blinked. Blinked again. “You what?” Disbelief dripped from his words.

I dropped his wrist and I moved in, my lips meeting his for a thorough, gut-clenching kiss so he knew my intentions were still in place. A kiss that had my core pounding, desperate for action—any sort of action.

But no. I wanted him. Him and him alone.

I pulled back slightly, then drifted slightly to the side, my lips brushing the hard cut of his jawline as my hands cradled his neck. “I want you. You alone. No tricks. No powers. Only you.”

He swallowed, his throat pumping against my thumb I had set just above his clavicle. A low growl vibrated in his chest and I wasn’t sure if it was from frustration or pleasure.

“Can I still touch you?”

I pulled up, meeting his eyes, our breath mingling. “Yes. Anywhere you want. All over. Just no powers. Just you. The true essence of you.”

His growl resurfaced and his right hand went flat on my chest, pushing me flat down onto the table, holding me there as he dragged off my shoes and yoga pants with his left hand.

Naked under his hold, I squirmed, wanting to tear his pants off as well, but he held me in place on the table, his fingers spinning downward to grasp my nipple and twist it.

Another shot of pain that had me gasping, rabid.

Before I figured out his actual intention, his mouth was on my soaked slit as his fingers plied my nipple.

His tongue dove inward, licking the wet heat from me, and I buckled under the touch, that weird energy seeming to spark off his tongue and onto my folds. My legs buckled up and he grabbed my right thigh, draping it over his shoulder as he ran his thumb along the hypersensitive inner part of my thigh.

Finding my clit, he swirled his tongue, teasing the nub, then he raked the edge of his teeth slightly over the sensitive flesh. I writhed at the touch, an orgasm already building from deep in my core.

He switched his hand to my right nipple, sparking new sensations down deep into my abdomen as he traced my folds, diving into my slit and taking long strokes with his tongue up to my clit.

My back arching, half moans, half screams started drifting from my lips as my toes dug into his back.

He shifted, sending one finger deep into my channel, then two, fucking me with his fingers while his tongue wouldn’t let my clit go, lapping at it as my body bucked under the touch.

Screams—full screams came between my panting as the tension in my body twisted raw and consuming. Begging, until he plunged three fingers deep into me, hitting a wicked spot deep within me as he simultaneously nipped at my clit and twisted my nipple.

I splintered.

Shattered harder than I had the day before when he was sending orgasm after orgasm into me. Fell apart with no sense oftime or place. Just blackness splintering into dots of light in my world.

He stroked me several more times, spreading the slick of my orgasm along my folds, and I already knew he was far from done with me.

My body still convulsing with the orgasm, he flipped me onto my belly on the table and I stretched out, catching the edges of the table with my hands as his pants dropped to the floor behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and my mouth went dry at his cock, huge and straining and raging. For a moment, I hesitated—there was no way the size of him was going to fit in me—not after a century of celibacy.