“I told you that you were made specifically for me. Your body was made for me. I promise you can take it. Let go. Relax for me,Nher.”
I did. I relaxed my body, literally breaking out in sweats as the sensation of him filling me eased from ragged pain to a slow-burningbloom. Did I think fucking an immortal would be a walk in the fucking park?
“Oh, fuck. Thrax,” I cried out as he buried himself to the hilt. He filled me completely, every inch of him wedged deep into my pussy, making my walls pulse and clench around him like they were trying to mould to his shape.
I was so thankful I was beyond wet, because the slickness dulled the pain and let pleasure thrust in its place.
Lightning flashed across the room in jagged white as he pulled back, then sank back into me again. The rhythm was slow and painstaking, his elbows coming down on each side of my head to hold his weight so he could kiss away the tears that leaked down my face between thrusts.
“You’re perfect. You’re doing so fucking well, Sanora. So much better.” His praises rolled over me and made me dizzy, and I clung to the compliment like a rope.
Those words made me relax as he pulled back almost completely, sinking himself back into me with a patience that I could tell he was struggling with.
“I don’t want to hurt you right now, but fuck me if I’m not trying my best to hold myself back from ramming into you,” he groaned between teeth. “So I’d like it if you adjust before I lose hold of my shit.”
Knowing he was serious about losing his control soon, I willed my body to accept his brutal tempo. He moved in and out four times while I adjusted, each stroke deeper than the last, then he picked up a pace.
“It’s insane how you feel even better than I imagined,” he panted, the cadence of his voice matching the rhythm of his hips. He was making me see stars, making the world narrow until it was only the two of us and the loud, wild sounds of our bodies. He pushed into meall the way in over and over, and I swore, I didn’t know how deep one could go until Thrax.
He was everywhere, invading in a way that erased all previous standards. I moaned at the fullness of him, each thrust driving so deep I could taste him down my throat.
I knew then with a terrible certainty that I would never recover. No one would compare. No one would measure up. I was officially ruined.
“Before this moment, I made a decision,” he said, voice ragged.
Teary-eyed, I stared at him, unable to speak, but he kept talking. “I made a decision to make your body my god. It’s the first and only thing I feel passionately inclined to worship. Will you be my god, Sanora? Let me show you how true faith and devotion works.”
Goddamn.
Thrax pinned me with a stare, and I nodded, unable to speak because my voice was lost somewhere between his hand on my skin and the venomous sweetness of his thrusts.
That was when a wail tore through the night, through the rain, and through my own very chest.
It was jagged and raw and it sent a lurch of adrenaline through my veins, reminding me that those creatures were still outside, outside with a plan to kill me.
Lightning flashed then, washing the room in pure light before a thunder cracked the sky.
My pulse ratcheted up, fear lacing through my heat and making the present moment feel even more electric.
Thrax stopped moving inside me. For a moment I felt very hollow, the absence of his motion making a terrible echo in me.
I blinked, about to ask why he stopped when I watched him pick the pillow beside my head. Without slipping out of me, he moved back, kneeling upright before yanking out pillowcase and flinging the pillow to the side.
“What...are you—”
Thrax tore the pillowcase, the sound of the fabric loud over the rain pouring. After literally dividing it into four different parts, he managed to tear out a thin, long cloth, folding it over until I was staring at a makeshift blindfold.
I swallowed. “Are you going to—”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I didn’t have to think, I nodded. Because in a world of monsters and impossible men, this was the safest I’d ever felt.
“Good.” Then he placed the fabric over my eyes, and I lifted my head from the bed so he could tie it behind. When he was done, his hand slid from the back of my neck to my chest, cupping my breasts, still not moving inside me. “What do you see, Sanora?”
“Darkness,” I replied, the blindfold making every touch amplified. In that dark, I felt more exposed than I ever had with my eyes open. Unknown things prowled outside, but the blindfold turned threat into a tight, erotic focus on the one thing I could feel for certain:him.
“Now, find me in that darkness and focus on me.” He twitched inside me a little, but he still didn’t move, and I knew for a fact that it was killing him more than it was killing me. “Your hands above your head, and keep them there,” he instructed.
