Page 139 of Hellbound

He was losing the argument as she took her time, trailing her tongue across his feverish skin, across his collarbone, and over that mangled scar that crevassed his neck.

If she wanted, she could rip out his throat. As if in answer, his pulse quickened beneath her lips.

But she wanted to draw out this torture longer.

“A pest? But you keep me around—why is that?”

She sank her teeth into his defined shoulder, a paltry hiss of pain her reward.

She lifted her glistening fingers between them, her thighs trembling in anticipation as his fingers bruised her ass like a ripened peach as she rubbed her oversensitive clit against his hardness.

She gripped his sharp jaw and chin with ink-stained fingers, forcing him open.

Now, drink your poison.

Her bottom lip caught in her teeth as she dragged her gaze and her slick fingers down the flat of his tongue.

His green eyes flashed—contempt. Then darkened. Like a predator who couldn’t and wouldn’t bite the hand that fed him now.

Not when the poison was this sweet.

He set his teeth against her fingers. A bemused smile quirked her lips, waiting for him to make his choice.

A beat passed.

Another.

He hollowed his cheeks, sucking her fingers clean.

“That’s it…” Her voice was strained.

Good boy.

“Do you want more?” She bit her lip as his tongue twined over her digits in a way that made her think of a better use for his mouth.

She leaned over him till their noses brushed. Her blouse slid off her shoulder, letting Bohdan feel the heat wafting from her bare skin.

“Then beg.”

Frustration snapped through his body, and that cold mask of indifference slammed back down.

She knew she was toeing the line.

“No.” He gripped the back of her head sharply, closing the distance between their mouths, and forced the taste of her back onto her tongue.

His other hand snaked around the small of her back, sinfully melding their bodies.

They bit and tore into each other. He held her past the point they should’ve risen for air, and when he finally broke his hold on her, she came up gasping.

“You’ll do the begging.”

Insufferable bastard.

She pushed hard against his chest and clambered off the table with a withering look. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

34

Crumpled linens were strewn at the foot of her bed from where she’d tossed and turned, chasing peak after peak through the night after they parted ways from the library. Her fingers worked feverishly against the overstimulated bundle of nerves. A sheen of sweat coated her body; the temperature of her quarters had risen despite the cold evening. With a curse, a sixth climax weakly rolled through her body as she lay in a frustrated heap.