She covered herself, suddenly feeling shy. “Is this what you do in the woods?”
“Sometimes.”
He leaned back and crossed his hands to pull off his own shirt. The play of muscles beneath his skin was fascinating to watch: a delicate etching of lines that highlighted his easy grace of movement, so as to make everything he did seem thoughtful and deliberate.
He’s like a painting come to life.
“Women out here think I’m an animal,” he said, balling up the fabric and tossing it aside. “They want me to fuck them like one, and I used to oblige, but that gets old as you get older.” He planted his hands on either side of her. “Especially knowing what you and I know.”
“You’re lonely?” she asked.
His eyes went to her arm. “That’s one word for it. Lift your skirt.”
Color flooded her face. She had to uncover herself to do as he asked, and she did not have the space to be graceful with him crouched over her like that. Her body grazed his as she lifted her hips to slide off her underwear, and he let her get as far as her knees before dragging it the rest of the way off and covering her hands with his, pulling her skirt all the way up to her waist.
“I promised you wildflowers, Nadine,” he said, as he unzipped his jeans. “Maybe they’re not what you expected—but then, neither am I.”
She looked at that bloody flower, and then at him. His cock was already jutting towards his belly, at a slight curve. He ran his hand up the length of it, sliding back the foreskin to reveal the swollen, blush-colored crown. Her heart was trembling; being around this man always made her hurt inside, no matter how gently or roughly he handled her.
Love makes good people do bad things, she thought, breathing out a sigh when he got on top of her.
A loud crack echoed through the woods. She jumped, bumping against him. “What was that?” she asked, pulling her skirt down. She would have sat up, but Cal was in the way. Her shyness amused him, she could tell. “It sounded big.”
“Probably a deer. This is the time of year when they birth their young. It makes them shy.” He gently drew her arm away and nudged her back against the ground. “Just like you.”
“Are you sure no one’s here?” she asked faintly.
“Relax. You’re perfectly safe with me.” He kissed down her ribs, and surely must have felt the thrum of her heart when he added, “I’ll protect you.”
She closed her eyes, every heated pull of his mouth strumming her desire like an invisible cord as he worked his way to her breasts, covering each nipple in an open-mouthed kiss that gradually became a bite, before kissing his way down to her navel. Nadine dug her fingers into his hair when he kissed her through her damp curls, causing her to prickle all over in a burst of icy-heat when he breathed out, before lashing his tongue against her clit.
She barely had time to gasp before he slid two fingers into her, fucking her fast and deep. Her hips lifted, but she couldn’t keep pace with him, and when she tried to sit up again, he pushed her back down. His cock swelled painfully, glistening with precome, but he ignored it as he continued to edge her closer and closer to climax, until she was writhing beneath him, fears forgotten.
“You’re going to love it, Nadine,” he murmured. “You’re going to be begging me to have you every possible way, and I’m going to punish you by obliging.” Those eyes flicked to hers, dark and wild, and she realized he was talking about the festival only when he said, “You raise my blood, little sparrow. You, and only you. And if you knew what that meant, you’d fucking run like hell. But you won’t, will you?” His eyes swept over her assessingly. “Not now.”
Her fear ballooned. “Cal, I—”
“You won’t,” he said, and it was nearly a growl. “Because if you do, I’ll find you—and I’ll catch you. I won’t put you into the green book, Nadine, but I’ll fuck you until you think you’re dead.”
Then his hands were pushing her thighs apart, spreading her glistening folds to expose her to a kiss so ravening that she came right on his tongue, despite the horrible implications of his words, and what they might mean for her. He was a man starved by his own delusional passions, and now his appetites had a wild and ravenous edge.
He’ll wear me down to nothing if I let him, she thought,oh god.
“Ohgod.”
At the sound of her enthusiastic cries, he worked her over with a renewed fervor, nipping and sucking and stroking until she wanted to run from the feeling sweeping over her. But with his fingers biting into her thighs, she couldn’t run, so her fingers furrowed into the ground as her screams frightened the little birds from the trees. He plunged into her then, entering on one smooth stroke that had her thighs clenching with the strain. It no longer hurt, but instead left her feeling achingly full, and she cried out again when his hand curved around her jaw.
“Give me your throat.”
She turned her head with another cry, the pain of his bite blending into the sensations of everything else, like another fiery color being added to an already-brilliant frieze.
Perversely, she found herself thinking of the inscription on that statue in the square.Lower thy honor and raise thy blood.Was this the feeling he meant? This terrible, breathless joy?
How ironic it was then, that it was only while pinned to this blood-tainted earth, with Caledon Cullraven’s great-grandson surging between her thighs, that she knew at last what it meant to soar.
C H A P T E R
E I G H T E E N
