Page 47 of Nocturn

I breathed out slowly through my nose, and it helped clear the fog trying to drag me into fear. I straightened my spine and took hold of his base.

Draven gasped, arching his hips to drive more of his flesh into my mouth. My jaw strained from the invasion. I softened my mouth, not fighting against his force. He tasted earthy and salty, a mix so completely intoxicating that it had ingrained itself on my tongue.

I squeezed my palm over the knot. Carefully, I felt around the portion that dipped then over the swell, learning the hard muscle as best as I could. Spit dripped down his shaft to where my hand gripped his base, and I rubbed my palm over it. It made the glide smoother, and he twitched. Swirling my tongue around the tip, I followed the fold at the top, delving it under the crease.

A deep, guttural groan accompanied his thrust.

Between my legs had grown sensitive until I was forced to squeeze my thighs together.

“Saints, you feel so good.”

As perverse as it was, I liked how he reacted to being in my mouth.

His seed spilled across my tongue in harsh drags. I clenched the thick flesh at the base, and another wave of his need warmed my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could, but it came too fast, and it dribbled from the corner of my mouth.

I did not stop rubbing his member. His moans and grunts were addicting.

He grabbed my arm. The chamber swam, and I could not see where he was dragging me. I landed on the bed, my breath punching out of me.

My slippers had gone flying, so my bare feet pressed into the soft cushion of his bed. He settled on top of me, his weight spreading my legs wide. My fingers curled into the bedding. His sudden speed never ceased to surprise me.

“Your taste is intoxicating,” he breathed into my neck, dragging his nose up to my ear.

The sensation urged me to hike my shoulders up to hide my throat. He groaned and his hand squeezed my hip. He struck, sinking his fangs into the column of my neck. My skin gave way to fangs with ease, and he fed.

I cried out, my hips lifting. Pleasure rippled through my nerve endings. Each drag from his lips raised the pulsation until it was unbearable. I widened my thighs even more. With his mouth attached to my throat, his hard abdomen pressed against that maddening ache.

He lifted, slowly dragging his tongue across the puncture wounds. “Let us see how you take me.”

Lord Draven rose above me, scarlet staining his lips. Rising and sitting back on his legs, he shoved away one of the panels of my dress. Then he reached for my bloomers.

He was going to take me regardless of what I begged. Some sickness inside me that kindled in my belly wanted it.

A loud rip rent the air.

Lord Draven spread my legs wider, keeping his position with his knees pressing into the bedding as he stared down.

“Drenched little cunt.” He slid a fingertip along the seam of my sex.

Inhaling did nothing to assuage the agony.

I had reached a feverish pitch.

“F-fuck me then,” I whispered, half-hopeful-half fearful. I flopped onto my stomach, just as the man had the woman back in the brothel, arms folded under my cheek, my hips slightly raised.

Cold air touched my bottom for longer than necessary.

He had not moved. The silence forced me to peer at him over my shoulder. I had only the profile of Lord Draven’s face within view, then a deafening laugh left his mouth.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Innocence

Istiffened, the booming laugh stunning me so viscerally. Embarrassment crawled forward. With an angry flip, I faced him again and pushed up on my palms.

“Why are you laughing?” I snapped, tucking my knees up, and the pleat fell between my thighs, shielding me. “That is how the man fucked the woman at the brothel.”

His hand on my hip stiffened until it was painful. An expression I could not recognize flashed over his broad features and disappeared as quickly.