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“It’s a very particular poison,” Nightshade answers, not tearing his eyes from mine. “It’ll paralyse her… but it won’t kill her, well, not right away if I give her a high enough dose. In fact, the paralysis will only increase her sensitivity.” His lips twitch up into the tiniest of smiles. “She’ll be awake, but she won’t be able to move a muscle from the neck down. She’ll be able to feel everything, though.”
“How do you know?” Snow asks.
“Because I made it,” Nightshade says, a smug note in his voice. “I’ve tested it on myself, and I’m still here.”
My heart is racing, but I can’t deny the ripple of heat that is running through me. I’m intrigued and excited, and I know that I’m going to have my mouth on whatever that vial holds before this is over.
“I’m going to administer it to her and then she’s going to want me,” Nightshade says, his voice firm. “She’ll be desperate for it.”
“Do it then,” Snow pushes, sounding eager and excited.
Nightshade moves around the chair to stand behind me, his hands cupping my shoulders and he runs his thumbs up my neck to my chin. He leans in close to my ear as I feel the tip of the vial against my throat. “You should be afraid,” he whispers. “When I’m done, you won’t have any say in what happens next.”
My heart is pounding, but it’s not out of fear.
“You don’t need to poison me to make me want you, Night,” I say quietly as he leans in to raise the vial to my lips.
He brings his lips to kiss the shell of my ear and whispers, “Trust me”.
Can I though? He said not to, and how he’s, what, trying to help me?
He tips the contents of the bottle into my mouth and I almost gag on the sickly-sweet flavour that bursts on my tongue. He pulls away before I can retch and raises his hand, hovering it over my chest, and then he shoots it down to my waist.
“It doesn’t taste blue,” I quip, smirking to hide my discomfort. I will not panic, because panicking doesn’t change the outcome, and if it’s my time, then it’s my time.
Then the paralysing agent hits my heart like a sledgehammer and my body freezes in place, locked in a constant state of arousal. The room is spinning, and my vision is blurring. My heart is pounding, and I can feel it in my throat. The feeling of total helplessness is overwhelming in the best possible way. I can still wiggle my fingers and toes, and I can still move my head and mouth, but my limbs feel so heavy, I couldn’t move them to save my life. The worst thing though is the heat. It feels like flames are licking their way across my body, moving upwards from my toes. It’s nothing like the power of Snow’s blowtorch, but a thousand times worse because every pulse of heat goes straight to my pussy. I struggle to move and scream, but it’s absolutely futile. Every time I scream out, the heat only grows worse. I feel like I’m burning alive from the inside out, and the only thing I can do is lay there and moan. It’s the most intense feeling I’ve ever experienced, and I’m forced to accept that I might never again leave this room alive. But the worst thing is, even as I lie there, I’m feeling it all and loving it. I feel like I might die in a few minutes, but I’m coming like crazy.
The sensation of the cuffs cutting into my wrists and ankles, the cramps in my legs, and the agony of stretching my arms and legs to breaking point is delicious and I moan in protest. I don’t want it to stop. I want more. I need more.
I’m writhing in my skin, my moans and whimpers of pleasure loud enough to echo through the room. I know I should feel…something like shame or embarrassment…but I can’t. Can’t bring myself to care. Can’t feel anything other than pleasure and heat.
Nightshade grins at me, a one sided smirk that’s devastating as he steps away from me. I whimper.
“I’d say she’s ready for you, Bones.”
I swap one beautiful tattooed monster for another, my greedy gaze drinking in every inch of his bare skin. The fiery lotus tattoo on his throat ripples as he swallows and approaches me with slow, measured steps.
The goddess tattoo on his stomach taunts me with her wide smile and fangs, the tip of her tongue grazing where his pants begin, hinting at the promised land below.
I can’t tear my gaze from the bulge in his pants. It’s fucking huge, and my mouth starts watering.
He smirks as he rocks back and forth on his heels, his smirk turning into a wicked grin. “Scared?”
I scoff and the sound echoes around the room. “I’ve been through worse,” I say, and it’s not a lie. I’m horny more than anything, and if I were scared of anything, it would be the fear that someone won’t take the edge off, won’t let me come.
His eyebrows raise in mocking surprise, and I lift my head to meet his eyes. The fire in his gaze is intense, and I close mine, looking away.
He grabs my jaw in a vise grip and pushes his forehead to mine, his breath hot on my skin. “Open your eyes, Kayla.”
I shake my head.
“Open your eyes,” he says again, his tone fierce.
I shake my head again.
“I’ve nothing to lose,” he whispers, “but you do. Open. Your. Eyes.”
My eyes fly open and the impact of his striking green stare almost knocks me out. He’s looking right into my soul. He’s seeing everything. He’s seeing it all, and looking at him, I suddenly understand that he knows. He knows what I’ve done, what I’m capable of.
