Page 82 of Hellebore

“Your tendency to hurt yourself is really starting to piss me off,” he growls low in my ear, forcing my leg back down onto the wet stone.

“If it’s pain you want, Briar, I can deliver far worse than a fall.”

He bends me brutally over the stone railing, my upper body hanging dangerously over the edge. Blood rushes to my head as I stare down at the deadly drop below. Rain lashes my face and soaks my hair.

“Drystan!” I scream, gripping the slick railing with white-knuckled fingers.

“Didn’t you want to jump?” He yanks my pants and underwear down in one vicious motion, exposing me to the cold storm air. “You like danger, don’t you?”

“No! I just want to get away from you!” I shout, thrashing wildly, trying to push him off.

His hand presses between my shoulder blades, pinning me harder against the railing while the other slides between my legs. “I will never let you get away from me.”

One thick finger pushes inside me without warning. I scream as he curls it deep, stroking that spot that makes my traitorous body flood with unwanted heat. My mind spirals—there is no escape, he’s going to kill me, or keep me forever, or both—but my hips still push back against his hand.

“Do you know what the fuck I did for you all these years?” he snarls, voice rough and feral as thunder rolls overhead. “Every night you went out. Every bastard who tried to touch you. Why do you think they suddenly stopped?”

“I never asked you to!” I cry out, still fighting even as pleasure coils viciously inside me. “I didn’t even know you existed!”

He pulls his finger out only for me to feel him lowering his pants. The thick, pierced head of his cock presses against my entrance for one terrifying second, and then he buries himself to the hilt in one savage thrust.

Pain and blinding pleasure explode through me at once. The stretch is brutal. The height makes my head spin. The fear of being dropped mixes with the overwhelming fullness of him, and a broken moan tears from my throat despite everything.

He starts thrusting, slow, deep, and punishing, each powerful stroke slamming my hips against the stone railing. Rain pours over us both. His blood mixes with the water dripping down his body onto mine.

“No—” I choke out, even as my body arches back into him, chasing more.

My mind screams that I should be terrified. That this man is a murderer. That I am dangling over the edge of death while he fucks me, but my body… my body is burning for him.

“You are drenching me, Briar,” he laughs darkly, the sound low and unhinged as his thrusts grow faster, more punishing. He pushes me further over the balcony until half my body dangles dangerously over the edge. I scream louder, the rough stone digging painfully into my ribs, crushing the air from my lungs. Thunder crashes overhead while cold rain lashes my skin.

“Oh fuck, you are clenching so hard around my cock, baby.”

The dizziness in my head intensifies with every brutal snap of his hips, blood rushing violently to my skull, but the burning coil in my lower belly only tightens. I hate myself for it, yet I cannot stop pressing back into him, moving my hips in the small space he allows, chasing sharper pain and deeper pleasure. My mind spirals—this is madness, he could drop me, he’s a killer, I should be fighting—but my body betrays me completely, trembling on the razor’s edge.

I try to tell him to stop. The words die in my throat, replaced by broken moans I can no longer contain.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he snarls, thrusting harder, the wet slap of our bodies mixing with the roar of thunder. “Tell me!”

But I can’t. The words refuse to form because some dark, shameful part of me does want it. I want him to ruin me. I want to fall apart while dangling over death.

He chuckles, low and victorious. “That’s what I thought.”

His hips snap forward with savage force, driving his pierced cock impossibly deeper. The overwhelming stretch, the fear, the dangerous height, the way every piercing drags against my walls, it all crashes over me at once. My orgasm rips through me like lightning, violent and devastating. I scream, body convulsing hard around him as waves of blinding pleasure tear me apart. My vision whites out. My legs shake uncontrollably. I clench and flutter around his thick length, soaking him as the storm rages around us.

“Fuck—that’s it,” he growls, voice completely feral. “Come for the devil who owns you.”

His thrusts turn erratic and punishing. With a guttural, animalistic roar that cuts through the thunder, he buries himself to the hilt and comes hard, flooding me with hot, endless pulses of his release. He grinds deep, forcing every drop inside me as if he could brand my soul.

For a few terrifying seconds, the world tilts dangerously.

Then he finally pulls me back over the railing and into his arms. The sudden rush of blood leaving my head makes everything spin violently. Darkness swallows my vision completely.

I collapse against his bloodied chest and pass out.

I gasp sharply and sit up, disoriented. A soft black blanket pools around my breasts. I peek underneath and see I’m completely naked. The room is dim, lit only by a few candles and the low glow of the fireplace. I blink several times, trying to clear my blurred vision, until Drystan comes into focus.

He is sitting in a chair near the bed, leaning back slightly as he sews the wound I gave him near his ribs with slow, precise movements. His jaw is tight, a muscle ticking rhythmically. Thick veins stand out along his forearms and the back of his hand with every careful stitch. His powerful muscles shift and flex under his skin as he works, completely unfazed by the pain.