Page 79 of The Cannibal

“All my life, if you choose to forgive me—it belongs to you.”

Our lips crashed together between the taste of fresh rain and salted tears. We locked with such force I ended up biting him, but his arms wrapped around me entirely, tipping me back as I wrapped my arms around his neck. The sleeves were so long I felt I couldn’t grab him tight enough.

His lips on mine, our hearts beating so fast I could hear them rattle, quiver, synchronize with the most beautiful melody. Not even the angel’s trumpets could outplay them.

24

THE POISONER

Inearly tumbled through the large doors as I was shoved through. Shivers through soaked clothing, the padding of my steps on the cold wood floor as a puddle collected below me.

Only a single glimpse of the room told me exactly where I was, and my heart leapt. His room.

The doors slammed behind me. As I turned, hands on me.

I nearly doubled back when he shoved me by the grip on the coat. Only one falter landed my backside on the solid floor, my legs attempting to kick me backward to scramble back to my feet, but Silas stepped on my dragging garments.

I turned to crawl, but he grabbed me by the ankle and yanked me back.

As soon as I rolled onto my back, his lips were on mine. Silas frantically tugged at the buttons of his shirt. Our hands grabbed and pulled at each other like we couldn’t decide between undressing ourselves or each other.

Our movements were assertive, albeit clumsy. A misstep here, a missed button when undoing the shirt, his knee slipping on the wet skirt of my dress as it trapped my ankles. Every hot kiss stealing each other’s breath until there was no more oxygen to trade.

“Silas,” I managed between kisses, “the bed⁠—”

“I’ll take you right here on the floor if I want to,” he gasped, the back of my head nearly hitting that floor with the force of his kiss, but then it was firmly cradled by his hand. “God, I could just paint the walls with you if you get me hot enough.”

He pulled the coat from my body and I broke the last button of his shirt. Every touch turned to a grab, every grab a grip of talons. There was no telling what we’d do to each other once ensnared in talons or teeth. Yet neither of us was willing to break skin-to-skin contact.

He tore my dress next, the sheer day dress still sticking to my skin as he abandoned the task altogether just to embrace me.

Thunder clapped and a bolt set the room alight, the flash reflecting in his eyes as this monster of desire overwhelmed me.

His lips brushed against my ear, kissing the hot skin of my neck before lowering between my breasts. His lips hovered, and he looked up at me through his lashes.

“Any last words?” he asked slowly, and rested his chin on my sternum, his hand slipping under the arch of my back and tracing my spine as if it could entice a response. “An insult, a plea?” he suggested, but a tease of vibration came from his throat, not yet vocal. “Perhaps I’m being a pest.”

I shivered at the reminder of our safety word, my hail Mary, a way out.

Except it was the entrapment I craved.

It was time I lost myself.

“Get your filthy hands off of me,” I sneered, unable to hide the flirtatious nature, “foul thing.”

His lip twitched at my words, agitating the Creature in the best of ways.

He flipped me onto my stomach.

My cheek pressed against the floor, then the cold air rushed over my skin as he tossed the layers of my skirt up. My bare legs shivered, the drips from the soaked clothes ran down my backside and over my thighs. No matter how I pressed my legs together, I was still vulnerably positioned.

The jingle of his loosened belt chimed in my ear, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. He stood, using one hand to remove it and snap it out of the beltloops.

“One peep from you”—he folded it and pointed the leather at me—“your cheek better not leave the fucking floor again.” He lowered the leather to trace over the skin of my backside.

Snap!

The belt cracked over my arse. A burning bloomed over my skin a second after the noise. I squeezed my eyes shut, my cheek touching the floor, and bit on my lip hard enough that it might bleed.