Page 47 of Take Me Darkly

He chuckled, dark and pleased. “That’s it. Don’t think. Just feel everything.”

The ice moved lower, trailing down my stomach, leaving a wet path in its wake. Every muscle in my abdomen contracted at the sensation. I tensed, knowing where he was headed, my thighs trembling with anticipation and apprehension. When it reached the juncture of my thighs, he pressed it directly against my swollen clit. I cried out.

“Cold!” I gasped, my hips lifting instinctively toward his hand despite the shock.

“I know,” he whispered, relentlessly trailing the melting edge around the bundle of nerves. “It sharpens every nerve ending, doesn’t it?”

He was right. The freezing moisture made my skin sing, magnifying every touch tenfold. And when he tossed the remaining ice aside and replaced it with the scalding heat of his mouth, the contrast felt like fire licking through my veins.

My entire body shuddered. Tears leaked from beneath the blindfold—not from pain but from the sheer intensity of sensation, from the overwhelming nature of feeling so much after weeks of trying so hard not to feel anything at all.

I moaned, pulling uselessly against the wrist restraints, offering him every inch of my body. His tongue worked magic between my thighs—licking, sucking, relentlessly driving me toward the edge while his fingers pumped deep inside me.

“Anton, please!” I bucked against his hand, unable to form a coherent thought. “Please, I need⁠—”

“Tell me what you need,” he growled, lifting his head, his breath scalding against my wet skin.

“You. I need you inside me!”

“Not yet.” His fingers pushed deep, curling. “You need to come for me like this first.”

His mouth sealed over my clit again, his tongue applying a hard, rhythmic suction, and my sanity snapped.

The orgasm tore through me like a tidal wave, starting deep in my core and radiating outward until every cell in my body was consumed by it. I screamed his name, my body convulsing violently against the ropes, my dark vision exploding in blinding white light. Wave after wave of intense pleasure rolled through me, and I surrendered to it completely. To him. To this moment of perfect, shameless bliss.

But he didn’t stop. His mouth and fingers remained relentless, driving me straight into a secondary wave before I could even catch my breath. I was dimly aware of sounds coming from my throat—moans and cries and broken syllables that might have been his name or prayers or pleas for mercy.

When I finally came down, I was trembling so hard my teeth chattered. Tears of pure catharsis leaked from beneath the blindfold, knowing I was exactly what I was meant to be in this moment.

“That’s my good girl,” Anton murmured, pressing kisses up my body—my hip, my ribs, the valley between my breasts. Each kiss felt like an act of worship.

I felt the mattress shift as he positioned his heavy weight between my knees. The thick, blunt head of his shaft pressed directly against my entrance. Even though I was completely spent, my body instantly wept for him.

“Please,” I whimpered.

He pushed forward, inch by agonizing inch, stretching me, filling me until he was buried to the hilt. When he was fully seated, he paused, his fingers reaching up to untie the blindfold.

The silk fell away, and my eyes adjusted to the warm, dim light. Anton hovered above me, his sharp face carved with a terrifying mix of tenderness, raw hunger, and absolute possession.

“I want you to see me when I fuck you,” he said. “I want you to look into my eyes when you come. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” I gasped, my legs wrapping tight around his hips. “I belong to you.”

Then he set a deep, punishing rhythm. I locked my eyes on his as he drove into me, watching his jaw flex with rigid restraint. This wasn’t just physical release. It was a communion of two dark, shattered souls finding sanctuary in the heat.

I let go of every remaining fear. I threw away the guilt, the propriety, and the ghost of the girl I used to be. For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to feel without fear or shame.

He filled me completely, claiming me with every thrust. The pleasure built again, coiling fast and tight. I wanted my hands free—wanted to feel the dense muscle of his chest and the heat of his skin beneath my palms.

“Anton,” I gasped, my breath catching as the pressure mounted toward another peak. “I can’t... it’s too much⁠—”

“You can,” he growled, his thrusts driving deeper, harder. “Shatter for me again, Serena. Give me everything.”

The climax hit like a lightning strike, wiping out reality until there was only the feeling of him and the sound of my own voice echoing off the stone walls. My body clenched around his shaft in violent, endless pulses.

Anton’s rhythm faltered, his jaw straining as his own control shattered. But instead of taking his release, he abruptly withdrew, leaving me empty and gasping.

“What are you doing?” I panted, disoriented.