Page 67 of Fangs

“This,” he murmurs, thumb tracing the soft edge of my lip until it yields. “This look… like you’re daring me to destroy you.”

A dry, disbelieving laugh scrapes out of me, but the spark in my blood sings for whatever dark thing he’s offering.

The vicious pull of his hunger curls through my chest like smoke.

He steps closer, catching a petal from my hair, his fingers trailing down my cheek with deliberate slowness. My breath catches. My thighs press together beneath the layers of my dress. I can feel his satisfaction, that smug male pride at how easily I unravel for him.

The heavy door’s bolt drives home with a final, echoing crack. Darkness pours from every corner, sealing the chamber until the walls themselves seem to breathe it in.

My pulse hammers hard enough to bruise my throat.

I don’t wait. My hand finds him through the leather, curling around the thick, massive ridge that jumps under my palm. God, the size of him. The heat. I stroke once, clumsy and desperate, and the sound that leaves me is half laugh, half moan.

He smirks, the expression pure sin and recognition. Raven hair falls across eyes of pure crimson fire. He shoves the leather down; it catches on his hips for one last second, then the heavy length of him springs free—rigid, glistening, already wet at the tip. Power rolls off him in waves that make my thighs press together hard enough to ache.

“On the bed.” He barks.

The command scrapes low and absolute.

I stumble forward. Shadows peel my clothes away before I reach the mattress, leaving me bare under the cold air. The ancient bed dips beneath my weight.

Living darkness surges from the posts—cold, slick, impossibly strong. They coil around my throat and yank me back against the carved headboard. More ropes of shadow seize my ankles and haul my legs wide, stretching me open until the chill kisses the soaked folds of my cunt.

His gaze burns. I feel myself drip under it.

Blake’s smile cuts sharp with sadism and a gleam that looks dangerously like devotion. “That’s it.” he growls.

The shadow claw around my throat tightens with every breath. He slides between my spread thighs. One knee forces them wider still. More shadows rise, sliding up my calves, my inner thighs, circling my entrance once—teasing—then thrusting deep in a single ruthless stroke. Thick. Inhuman. Stretching me open while he watches every flicker that crosses my face.

I gasp, spine arching hard against the wood.

“They missed you too,” he growls.

A broken cry tears from my throat as the shadow cock fills me, pumping in a slow, merciless rhythm that steals the air from my lungs.

“Fuck—”

He leans down. Teeth close hard around one nipple. Pain flashes white-hot. Shadows seal over the other like a second mouth, sucking, biting, matching him. For a heartbeat he stays there—then he pulls back as if struck, eyes locked on the wet glide of the shadows sliding in and out of me. He seems mesmerized by how shamelessly I soak them, by the way they pulse harder, matching the frantic beat of my heart.

With a thought his remaining clothes vanish. His cock joins the shadows—heavy, veined, the broad head flushed dark. He positions the tip against my clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles while the darkness fucks me deeper.

Then the shadows yank my feet higher and bind them against the wall. My back drops flat to the mattress, legs folded over my head, everything exposed and offered.

Blake looks down at the view like a man who owns every inch of it.

His tongue finds my asshole first, hot and filthy, lapping slow. One finger follows, sinking in to the knuckle while the shadows keep working my pussy in that same merciless rhythm.

I’m held open and still by living darkness. Every thrust of the shadow cock, every stroke on my ass, every low sound he makes rolls through me like thunder. The dual invasion builds until I can’t breathe around it. Shadows claim my cunt. His mouth and finger claim my ass. My walls flutter, clench, seize.

I come hard, the orgasm ripping through me in white-hot waves while the shadows hold me open for every helpless pulse..

He pulls back just enough.

Hot spit lands precisely on the tight ring of my ass. The wet heat shocks me. A filthy claim more intimate than any spoken word. Before I can even draw breath the shadows abandon my soaked cunt and thrust deep into the smaller hole in one merciless stroke.

The stretch burns white-hot, forcing a broken sound from my throat as they bury themselves to the root.

“Take it like a good girl.”