Page 40 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Arabella

My core clenched, aching with the denial of my orgasm.

Bastard.

I’d never seen his eyes so dark, like the deepest, scariest parts of the ocean. He was truly terrifying, his jaw held so tight I could make out the veins popping on his neck.

His fingers softened on my throat, but not releasing as he held me there, forcing me on my toes with his head dipped close to mine. My lips felt swollen, and I wanted nothing more than to get lost in his kiss.

It was savage, a violent claiming of tongue and teeth. He was pushing all those nightmares that I saw darkening his eyes onto me, and I was letting him.

What could possibly give a man like Sebastian Devereaux nightmares?

Hesitantly, I reached up to touch his cheekbone, and the fingers that were just inside me gripped my wrist so hard I could swear my bones creaked.

“You really do like pushing,” he rasped, his voice a low growl that pulled my skin taut. “As if this is all a game.”

He released my wrist, only for those same fingers to pinch my nipple above the fabric of my dress, then immediately caress it with a soft brush. His touch was a total paradox, both sensual and rough. Like he barely held back his darker side.

I’d always been sensitive, but with him it was different. As if he forced me into survival mode, so I’d notice every little detail. Making every sensation heightened.

Clearly, I was broken and had no survival instincts whatsoever because here I was at the mercy of a tyrant, and my thighs were embarrassingly slick with arousal. Even now his intensity radiated off him in possessive waves, a dominance I had no hope of fighting against.

“What, no comeback?” he asked, a cruel smirk twisting his lips.

I froze as his eyes held mine hostage, fear mixing with need in a twisted aphrodisiac that I still didn’t understand. I hated this feeling, the way he held influence over me.

He was so unpredictable with his actions, his nature that of a killer. And yet anticipation tingled down my spine at the way he used my own body against me, reminding me who held all the power. Spoiler alert, it was him, and when he made me feel this good, I wasn’t even mad.

Sebastian’s fingers found themselves at my core again, stroking so confidently I tried to move my hips away from the sudden sensation. There was no hesitation, my stomach tightening as I was quickly pulled to the tip of my orgasm once more.

“Beg me,” he whispered, standing over me like some great god as his fingers thrusted languorously. His intensity burned hotter, his gaze searing across my face. “Arabella. Beg. Me.”

It was nothing short of a command, and I immediately wanted to rebel. To spit in his face and tell him to go fuck himself. I knew it wouldn’t stop him, and honestly, I didn’t want him to .

My pussy ached, my breaths coming out in undignified pants as he kept me on the edge, not allowing me over. But ‘ please’ got stuck on my tongue, just to push him a little bit more. To enjoy the little control I still had before he took that, too.

His smirk widened, as if he was enjoying this game. Tutting, he removed his fingers, and I whimpered at the loss.

“Wait…” I began, the rest of my words lost when I noticed him pull out a pocketknife. He flipped it open, and I tried to push myself harder against the wall, away from the sharp edge. “Sebastian?” I whispered.

He was spiralling and using me to try and control it.

I could see it in the way he held himself, the way his muscles tensed.

His irises had somehow darkened further to become the endless night.

It was worse than when he was lost in the studio, because then the haunted look stopped after a few seconds. But this time it was different.

“Such a needy little slut.” Lifting my skirt, the knife sliced into my underwear until it was nothing but shreds on my hips.

I gasped at the first cold touch of the blade between my legs.

“You’re fucking soaking, belle. ” Lifting the knife to his lips, his tongue snaked out, licking my arousal from the metal. It sliced his tongue, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Si parfait, putain.”

He stared down at me with unapologetic possessiveness surrounded in fire.

As if I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out, and that infuriated him.

His lips caught mine, the tang of copper on my tongue. I tensed when I felt the knife touching me again, pressing against my clit in a burst of cold steel. Sebastian held it there, slowly rubbing it back and forth while he bit my throat hard enough I knew I was going to bruise.

More pressure, and I was so close. My orgasm clawing at me with a vicious force that had the influence to push me to my knees.

“Please,” I finally begged, my strangled voice alien as I rubbed against the blade.

So dangerously close to the sharp edge. A rational part of me knew I should be alarmed by the situation, but she could go fuck herself because where was she when I agreed to swap with my father in the first place? “Sebastian!”

My release tore through me like a hurricane, confiscating the air from my lungs as I gasped to regain enough oxygen to survive the pleasure that twisted my insides. Sebastian kept touching me, stroking me through it while watching me with an intensity that was distinctively him.

My entire body trembled in aftershocks, my muscles languid as I clung to him to centre my equilibrium. His grip on my throat eased, allowing me to collapse against the wall.

“You wanted to play, so let’s play.” He pulled his knife away, only to press it against my lips. I stilled, conscious not to get cut. “Run and hide, little rabbit. Because when I catch you, I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

I did the only logical thing any woman in my situation could do, and I ran.

Okay, it was more like stumbled. The remnants of my underwear twisted around my legs, as if wanting to trip me before I ripped it and left it in my wake.

I could feel his overbearing presence behind, like a shadow I could never escape. I scrambled from his office, racing towards the lift which immediately opened at my presence. There were no buttons inside, and in my panic I slapped the walls.

The doors closed, and the lift descended with a quiet purr before opening at the corridor of the floor below.

The club lights were off, almost too dark save for a single strip by the bar as I quickly manoeuvred across the dance floor.

The cavernous room was silent, empty but for us.

I could hear his footsteps, each thunderous stride breakingthrough the blood rushing in my ears as I tucked myself against a wall, trying to control my pulse while my heart dramatically threatened to break through my ribs.

Anticipation started low, spreading like wildfire despite fear being bitter on my palate. It consumed my soul, tightening my muscles until I fought for every breath.

I couldn’t see him or hear him. Risking a glance, I poked my head around the corner, having to blink for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Sebastian stood on the other side of the club, all black tailored suit, sharp lines, and broad shoulders.

He was silent as he moved through a door, and I used the opportunity to run towards the bar, ducking beneath a table to hide when I heard a sound from behind.

The lights above turned on, spotlights flickering while a heavy beat filled the air.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The bass vibrated the floor, drowning out my senses.

Something encircled my ankle, and I screamed as I was yanked, my nails digging into the carpet. I was forced onto my back, the sudden movement knocking the air from my lungs before I managed to fight, kicking and scratching before he pinned my hands above my head.

I froze when I saw his mask, my fear doubling as Sebastian loomed over me like the grim reaper, those dark, stormy eyes reflecting nothing but primal desire.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The club was alive around us, the lights and music disorienting.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, and even his voice, deep and intoxicating, was enough for my body to warm. I didn’t move, especially when there was a glint of metal in his hand.

With his knees on either side of my hips, he sliced my dress down its centre with the knife, the spotlights making it glisten when they flicked on overhead.

My breasts sprung free, and he immediately placed the tip of his blade to my left nipple, pressing until I felt a sharp sting, followed by a stream of liquid heat.

Fire pulsed between my legs at his erotic growl, those eyes watching the single drip of blood travel down the curve of my breast.

“Belle.”

The sound of a zipper, and I risked looking down, my mouth drying as he gripped his cock in his large, veiny hand. It somehow looked bigger, thicker in the menacing light.

It wasn’t going to fit, I thought, which was stupid considering it already had.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded, and I automatically glanced up at the same time he thrusted forward, forcing me to try and take him to the hilt.

My back bowed under the onslaught, my body protesting, even with how wet I was. But he didn’t seem to care, stretching me to the limit while staring down at me like I was his.

“Look how well you submit, mon petit lapine .”

I whimpered at the words, my legs automatically encircling his waist to take him deeper. I rocked up with his thrusts, absorbed with the way he used me for his benefit. It was as if I was the fuel, and he was the match ready to set me alight.

I revelled in the pleasure, chasing the pain just because it made me feel present.

Less lost in a world where I had no purpose but to survive.

His attention was an addiction, the intensity of it a stimulation I wanted to never stop. Sebastian fucked me like I was his catharsis, and I wanted it. Wanted him just as much as I hated him.

My orgasm was approaching at a rapid speed, making my movements more frenzied as I gripped his arms to better anchor myself against his violent thrusts. He didn’t stop me when I sank my nails into his skin, wanting him to experience just a fraction of my loss of control.

The growl that vibrated his chest almost sent me over the edge, the sound sending both dread and delight across my skin.

“Wait…” I cried when he pulled out, only to flip me onto my stomach. He tore the rest of my dress away, and it wasn’t lost on me that I was now entirely naked. Exposed while he was fully dressed. Just another power imbalance. “Sebastian!”

Lifting my hips so I was on my knees, he pounded into me from behind, and I let out a strangled scream at how deep he could reach. This position hit new angles, and I clenched around him when he slapped a palm against my arse.

Those same fingers pressed deeper into the skin, drawing out the sting, making me whimper and beg for more.

“My needy little slut.” His fingers brushed lower, dipping to the space where his body joined mine before moving to press against my back hole.

I gasped, jerking away until he wrapped his spare hand at the hair on my nape.

“Enough,” he warned, his finger brushing, teasing. “Your mouth is mine. Your cunt is mine, and this little hole…” His thumb pressed into me. “Is mine.”

My orgasm tore through my soul, my mind lightheaded as I shattered into a million fractured pieces. The sound of his thrusts and his skin on mine echoed around us until I was free falling again, my body trembling.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he rasped, his thumb thrusting in rhythm with his hips. “And all mine.”

I couldn’t breathe, my body exhausted as I accepted every inch.

Sebastian turned frantic, his movements savage. As he released my hair, I sagged forward, the sharp threads of the carpet rubbing against my breasts with every thrust.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

He was drawing out the pleasure, his free hand reaching around to brush my clit in a way that was the opposite of how he fucked me. He was gentle but rough. Soft yet violent.

I finally felt his cock stiffen, swelling as he groaned, and that alone had me coming once more, clenching to keep him locked to me for just a little bit longer.