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He sits on the end of the bed to wait for me, pulling off his shirt and baring his chest. Miles of pale, sculpted muscle, pretty enough to Michelangelo weep. I crawl to him, mouth watering at the sight of him and his gorgeous dick, but I don’t get to play. As I’m reaching for his cock, he wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me up to meet his mouth. His fingers dig into my throat as his lips sear mine, whispering promises of pain and pleasure. My body aches, my gaze darkening until I’m blind with need for him.
I push on his shoulders so he lies back on the bed, and I climb him. Bracing my palms on his hard pectoral muscles, I set my entrance over his erection and plunge down.
My necklace bounces as I ride him.
His hand collars my throat, controlling my movements even as I’m on top. “Mi kama. My weapon. My sharp-tongued sword. Fate forged you for me.”
“A sheath for the dagger. A dagger for the sheath.”
“You belong to me.” He snaps his hips, driving into my depths.
“Yes.” I rock over him, accepting the pain as he batters my insides. I dig my nails into his pale shoulders, willing to scratch him bloody. “And you to me. Because. . .” I hesitate, the words so sharp, so real, they cut. My heart aches like a bruise.
But Victor shows no mercy. “Say it.”
“I love you.” And it’s the truth.
