Page 47

G unmetal eyes narrowing fractionally, I absorb the weight of Briar’s stricken expression as the reality settles over her like a suffocating shroud. Fuck, maybe I’ve said too much this time. Let the floodgates open far wider than intended. But there’s no putting that genie back in its bottle now, is there?

With a harrowed sigh gusting past my lips, I shake my head, reaching across to graze my knuckles along Briar’s tense jaw in a fleeting caress. “If I could spirit you away from this whole bloody nightmare in a heartbeat, srdie?ko, I would.” The words rasp from a throat gone abruptly parched, my chest constricting beneath the weight of her wounded stare. “But we’re both trapped by the sins of our fathers now, like it or not.”

Briar blinks rapidly as if to dispel the sheen of unshed tears glazing over those ocean-swept depths, throat bobbing with a convulsive swallow. “You should worry more about finding a way out of this for your own sake, ,” she murmurs at last, voice taut yet wavering faintly. “Pining away over lil’ ol’ me isn’t exactly your top bloody priority here.”

A humourless chuckle rasps from the back of my throat at Briar’s blunt retort, shoulders rolling into an indolent shrug. “You think I haven’t bloody tried charting every potential avenue of escape from this nightmare?” My lips twist into a jaded smirk as I meet her piercing stare head-on. “Trust me, there aren’t any fairy tale happy endings awaiting either of us beyond this point.”

Briar’s brow furrows adorably at the dismissive declaration, azure irises sparking with that familiar defiant fire. Rather than back down from the unspoken challenge, though, she simply huffs and rolls her eyes, shimmying back against the headboard.

The subtle withdrawal has my teeth grinding together, jaw tensing until the muscle beneath feathers with strain. “Don’t do that,” I growl around the knot of frustration constricting my chest. Leaning forward, my fingers encircle the slender column of her bicep in a loose grasp as I implore, “Don’t pull away like that, srdie?ko.”

Briar stiffens at my firm grasp on her bicep, back stiffening ramrod straight before eventually relaxing again after a heartbeat’s hesitation. Her gaze flicks up to meet mine as her brow furrows quizzically. “Why do you keep calling me that?” she asks, cutting straight to the heart of the matter as per usual. “Srd… Ser… whatever—what’s it supposed to mean?”

Shite. A leaden knot forms in the pit of my stomach as my throat constricts almost painfully. I swallow hard, Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively while her unwavering gaze bores into me like a physical force. Abruptly self-conscious, I drop my hand and shift backward on the mattress, creating a sliver of space between our bodies that somehow feels like a bloody gaping chasm.

It’s been years since I’ve felt this anxious, this off-kilter around anyone. Hell, I can’t even recall the last time words failed me in such a spectacular fucking fashion. But how the bloody hell am I meant to explain calling her a possessive endearment in my native tongue without it sounding… well, possessive? The prospect of Briar reacting with her signature scorn has my palms prickling with a cold sweat despite the relative coolness of the room.

Clearing my throat, I rake fingers through already tousled strands and studiously avoid meeting her gaze head-on. “It’s, ah—” I begin haltingly before trailing off with a helpless shrug.

Christ, just spit it the fuck out already before she loses what little patience remains.

“It’s Slovak. For… baby, I suppose.” The admission rasps out in a hushed rumble, syllables seemingly tossed into the air like grenades awaiting detonation.

When no explosive reaction seems forthcoming, I risk a sidelong glance to find Briar frowning contemplatively. “I’m not daft, you know,” she murmurs after a beat, shattering the strained quiet that had descended. “It wasn’t hard to suss out the general meaning through Google Translate, not difficult to spell even with the accent you put on it. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

Oh. Well, isn’t that just fucking fantastic?

Heat suffuses my face in a ruddy wash, the tips of my ears undoubtedly glowing crimson judging by the slow-burning trail creeping up from my nape. Jesus fucking Christ, this woman’s managed to do what no amount of torture or life-threatening peril ever could—elicit an honest-to-God fucking blush from me.

The telltale twitch of Briar’s lips betrays her amusement at my fluster, prompting a gruff noise of irritation from low in my chest. Scrubbing my palm down the plane of my jaw, I make a show of clearing my throat once more before levering up from the mattress.

“We should, ah—rest up,” I mutter, every fibre willing my voice not to crack like a green fucking recruit in the throes of puberty. My gaze skitters away, refusing to linger on the vision of Briar lounging against the pile of pillows. “Need to be sharp for tomorrow’s… Trial.”

With those stilted parting words, I pivot mechanically towards the bedroom door, eager to put some literal space between us before I make an even bigger bloody tit out of myself. Each step feels laboured beneath the sudden weight of the air pressing down from all sides, the need to escape far outweighing any lingering pride over my rather undignified retreat.

Only a handful of strides separate me from salvation when Briar’s lightly mocking tones slice through the static in my ears. “Don’t do that,” she parrots, those three simple words wielding a jarring déjà vu potency in her tone. “Don’t pull away from me like that.”

The words—my own, thrown back in a taunting echo—strike centre-mass like a sledgehammer’s blow, freezing me in place. Inhaling a ragged breath, I squeeze my eyes shut for a fleeting moment in a futile bid to regain my bearings before glancing back over my shoulder. One eyebrow arches in unspoken challenge as I regard the smirking woman still draped amidst the rumpled bedding.

“Come back,” she murmurs, the raspy timbre of Briar’s voice surprisingly smoothing over my senses like a physical caress.

The simple command reverberates through my skull, jarring loose something primal and instinctive buried deep in my psyche. For a dizzying moment, I’m acutely aware of my surroundings yet utterly detached—as if watching some dispassionate third party navigate the scant distance separating me from the bed rather than consciously guiding my own halting steps.

Christ, I haven’t experienced this unsettling sense of bilocation in bloody years, not since those first harrowing weeks after being indoctrinated into Father’s brutal regime of depravity. The out-of-body dissociation had been my only coping mechanism back then, a fragile psychological barrier shielding my tenuous sanity from the full brunt of violation.

Somehow, in this moment, the phenomenon provides a welcome reprieve from the visceral maelstrom of anxieties and unwelcome stirrings roiling within me at Briar’s summons. I’m vaguely conscious of sinking one knee into the plush bedding, leaning into the feminine form still languidly draped against the tousled pillows.

Up close, her scent is even more intoxicating than usual. She’s changed body washes—the blend of sugary vanilla and musky feminine heat bleeding over the lingering notes of sweat. Funny that, that she’d wear something I had purchased on a whim recently without telling her about it just because it was available on the shelf. But fuck if my head doesn’t swim with it, the potent blend igniting a throbbing ache low in my abdomen that makes my cock give a more than voluntary twitch of interest against my thigh.

“What would you say,” Briar begins, her tone contemplative yet tinged with undeniable challenge, “if I told you I like it? Being called… well, that?”

The layered implication in her words cleaves straight through the cottony dissociative fog swathing my consciousness. Like a tightly bound elastic abruptly snapping taut, I’m viscerally slammed back into my corporeal form with a bone-jarring jolt of awareness.

It isn’t relief, not really—every raw nerve ending is still thrumming with a heady jumble of apprehension and arousal and a dozen equally disconcerting stirrings. But at least I’m present again, anchored fully in the moment rather than a distanced observer.

Bracing one large palm against the headboard, I lean further into Briar’s personal space with a low rumble building in my chest. “I’d simply ask how many times a day you’d like to hear it,” I murmur, gaze locked on the subtle rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheer camisole.

Briar’s tongue darts out to wet her plump bottom lip as she considers my heated rejoinder. “What if I’m greedy?” she counters at last, chin tilting upward in defiant challenge as those azure pools blaze with banked embers. “What if I want to hear you say it every second of every bloody day?”

A harsh groan that could just as easily be agony as ecstasy grates from deep in my chest, my lip unconsciously finding itself sucked between my teeth. Before I can second-guess the impulse, my free hand is lifting to caress the curve of her jaw, the pad of my thumb tracing the sumptuous swell of that sinful bottom lip.

“I’d put the whole goddamn world at your feet if you asked me to. Do you want me to burn it to ashes or should I grow the most bountiful garden with these bloodstained hands?” I rumble in a sandpaper rasp, the inquiry rolling off my tongue with naked reverence for the utter power she has over me. A single syllable from her lush lips and I know I’d obey without restraint. “I think I can spare every waking breath I have saying it. Be greedy, srdie?ko.”

Briar’s pupils dilate as a full-body tremor ripples through her at the guttural endearment and my molten caress. Her lips part on a shaky exhale, irises darkening to storm-tossed indigo beneath the weight of my intent stare. A heady flush tingeing those high cheekbones leaves no mystery as to the potent effect my heated words are having.

If only she knew the potency of her own power over me…

Emboldened by her visceral response, I lean further into Briar’s space until the tips of our noses brush in a delicate caress. My free hand rises to cradle the back of her skull, fingers threading through those silken curls as I angle her head just so. Soft strands slip through my grip like liquid satin, the delicate sugary notes of her shampoo enveloping my senses.

“Allow me to kiss you, srdie?ko,” I rumble, the request more statement than query. Still, I hold myself in check—every rigid muscle straining against the primal urge to simply take what I so desperately crave. Because tonight, in this singular moment, it has to be her choice. Her willing surrender before…

Well. Best not dwell on what fresh hell the dawn may bring, isn’t it?

Briar’s gaze grows heavy-lidded at the sensual lilt, nostrils flaring in the barest of tells before she’s surging up to crash her mouth against mine. Any veneer of control swiftly unravels as our lips mesh in a searing, desperate clash of desire too long denied. An inarticulate growl rumbles up from the depths of my chest as I haul Briar bodily into my lap, mouths fusing in a heated duel of tongues and teeth and scorching breaths, her knees bracketing my hips in a filthy grind that ignites every nerve ending into a blazing pyre of my own unmaking.

My free hand splays across the small of Briar’s back, fingertips digging into the supple curves in a desperate attempt to convince myself this is real. Tongues tangle in a wicked dance, both of us fighting for dominance despite the obvious potential for one party to decisively overpower the other. For now, though, I’m content to match Briar’s passionate onslaught with equal fervour.

Delicate hands fist in the fabric of my shirt, blunt nails raking over the ridges of my abdomen in a maddening tease as she pulls it from my waistband. A low groan reverberates between us as I rock my growing erection against the damp heat covered by little more than flimsy cotton. Christ, I can already feel how warm she’s growing from this protracted foreplay, the extra blood rushing to her clit as it throbs against me.

Eventually, oxygen deprivation forces us apart, twin chests heaving as we gulp down much-needed air in harsh pants. Briar’s lips are swollen and slick, her tousled hair a riotous halo framing that flushed porcelain visage. She looks utterly, deliciously debauched already and the night is still so young.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this,” I grate against the swell of her throat, nipping a stinging path up to the sensitive lobe of her ear. My thumbnail flicks over a tender nipple, drawing forth a hitched gasp that has my cock giving an insistent throb. “All flushed and needy and desperate for my touch.”

“Then touch me,” Briar pants, nails finding purchase on my shoulders, digging into the fabric as she curls her fingers. Those swollen lips part on a whimper as she instinctively grinds her cloth-covered pussy against the heavy ridge now throbbing between my thighs. “Quit teasing and touch me already… Whitlocke.”

Well, when she asks so bloody prettily…

My palms glide up the defined curves of her torso, fingertips tracing the hem of her camisole before delving beneath the sheer fabric. Calloused pads graze the velvety underswells of those pert tits, the weight of them glorious and pliant in my cupping grasp. Brushing my thumbs over the stiff peaks has Briar’s head rolling back on a low moan that zings straight to my aching cock.

“Christ, you’re so fucking responsive,” I growl in approval, tongue flicking over her wildly pulsing carotid artery as I continue massaging and tweaking those dusky buds between finger and thumb.

A soft groan vibrates against Briar’s throat as my palms glide along the swell of her breasts. The delicate lace rasps beneath calloused fingertips while I tenderly knead the pliant flesh.

“Tell me what you want, srdie?ko,” I murmur, tongue tracing along her pulse point. My thumbs flick over the taut peaks of her nipples, eliciting a shuddering inhale from her parted lips. “Where do you desire my hands? Or do you want my mouth?”

Briar shivers at my heated words, her nails dragging up to fist in the short strands at my nape. “I want to ride your fingers again,” she husks, hips rolling subtly against the throbbing ridge of my cock. “But this time, you’re going to let me come.”

A dark chuckle rumbles up from my chest at her brazen demand. Leaning back, I regard Briar with an arched brow and a smirk tugging one corner of my lips. “You still simmering on that? Tsk—so demanding when denied pleasure, aren’t you? I’ll have to keep a tally so I know when we’re even.”

Not waiting for a retort, my hands slide down her sides to cup her hips, thumbs grazing the flushed crescents of her inner thighs. One digit traces the faded scar tissue of my Brand marring her otherwise flawless skin, a stark reminder of our shared depravity. Briar sucks in a sharp breath at the contact, eyelids fluttering for a heartbeat. When her lashes sweep back up, azure irises have gone so dark that they’ve passed the point of indigo into an inky pool of abyss, blazing with banked embers of desire.

“Please, ,” she whispers, pride swallowed for the moment, as if asking me not to toy with her.

A shudder ripples through me at her breathy entreaty. Nails biting into the supple flesh of her backside, I haul Briar flush against my rigid length. Our ragged exhales mingle in the scant space as I dip my chin, allowing our mouths to brush in a tantalising caress.

“Mmm. You beg so sweetly, did you know that?” I rumble against her lips.

Maintaining that heated eye contact, I slide one hand beneath the loose leg opening of her shorts. Fingertips ghost along the velvet divide of her lower lips, come-hither motions coaxing slick arousal to coat my digits. Briar’s breath hitches, lashes sweeping low once more as she grips my shoulders for leverage.

Not one to deny such a wanton plea, I flatten my fingers against her mound, swirling the pad of my thumb in a tight spiral over her swollen clit. Her hips buck at the deliberate friction, a strangled whimper slipping free. Smothering a low groan of my own against the curve of her shoulder, I nuzzle into the juncture of her throat to nip at the tender skin.

“Fuck, srdie?ko,” I rasp between laving kisses over her salty flesh. “You make such pretty noises. Get louder.”

Pliant and eager to obey, Briar drops her forehead against my shoulder with a plaintive moan. Her fingers tighten in my hair as she grinds herself shamelessly against my ministrations. Slick flesh glides over my skin in an obscenely erotic rhythm, her clit throbbing insistently beneath each firm circle of my thumb.

I shift the angle of my hand to toy with her inner labia, allowing my index and middle fingers to slip past those velvet petals on the next glide of her hips. Briar moans my name like a desperate prayer, every rigid muscle straining as she sinks down to bury my digits up to the final knuckle. Tightening like a vice around the sudden intrusion, her inner walls ripple and clench in a delicious milking motion.

Christ, she’s so fucking tight and hot—a molten sheath gripping me with unbearable friction as I begin crooking the pads of my fingers against her spongy front wall. I’m utterly transfixed by the subtle play of bliss contorting her features, drinking in every hitch of her breath. Every needy whimper and whine.

Fuck, I want to worship her…

This isn’t about my pleasure tonight. I’d happily just bury my face between Briar’s thighs and feast until my jaw goes numb. Inhale that intoxicating blend of her arousal until I’m utterly drunk on it. Watch her become undone by my mouth and hands a thousand times over without ever seeking my own release, if that’s what she craved.

Those dark thoughts promptly scatter like ashes when Briar finally opens her eyes, pinning me beneath their stormy depths. Her hips slow to an indulgent roll as she sinks down fully once more, allowing me to curl both digits against that sensitive front wall. An unintelligible whine tumbles free from her kiss-swollen lips, her brow furrowing in pleasure-pain as that dusky mound grinds deliciously against my persistent thumb.

“C’mon, láska,” I growl in encouragement, mesmerised by the slight glimpses I get of my knuckles stretching her obscenely with each sinuous glide. “Give me those fucking vocals… Make a fucking mess all over my fingers.”

I let out a low groan as Briar’s hips undulate in a few languid circles, burying my fingers knuckle-deep in her velvet heat. Her inner walls flutter deliciously around the intrusion, trapping me in molten friction with each torturous grind.

Dropping her temple against my shoulder, Briar smirks up at me through her lashes. “Nothing’s ever that easy,” she pants, that sinful tongue darting out to wet her swollen pout. “You want me loud? Think you can coax it out of me?”

A dark chuckle rumbles up from my chest at the blatant challenge. Leaning in until our noses brush, I arch one brow in a silent, cocky rejoinder. When Briar simply cants her hips in brazen retort, I can’t resist capturing that taunting bottom lip between my teeth. A sharp nip has her breath catching, pupils constricting before blowing wide again.

“Mmm, is that an admission you can’t make those pretty noises on your own?” I murmur against the plump swell. “That you need me to work for it?”

Briar’s lashes flutter in a parody of innocence, head tilting just enough to graze the sensitive skin behind my ear with her exhales. “And if I do?” she husks, rocking subtly against the calloused pads still buried inside. “Not like I’d ever admit you do it better than me and give you the ego boost.”

A burst of laughter punches free before I can smother it, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. Shaking my head in wry amusement, I slant my mouth over Briar’s in a heated clash of lips and tongues. Her startled giggle dissolves into a tremulous moan as I begin pumping my fingers with renewed fervour, palm grinding against her turgid pearl.

Both of Briar’s arms wind around my shoulders, fingernails raking lines of delicious fire over the muscles cording there. Our ragged breaths mingle and tangle, every gasp and whimper swallowed between frantic kisses. Christ, she’s so fucking responsive like this—every drag of my knuckles or brush of my thumb stoking the flames licking higher up her spine.

And god, the sounds she’s making send blinding jolts of lust straight to my aching cock. Those broken whimpers and hitched sobs ratchet my arousal to excruciating new heights with each thrust of my hand. My palm soon grows slick with the fresh rush of her arousal, each plunge drawing forth another obscene drool of her honey to ease the friction.

“That’s it, srdie?ko,” I rumble in encouragement, utterly transfixed by the subtle changes rippling over Briar’s features. “Let me hear just how close you are to shattering apart for me. Fuck, you’re dripping all over my hand, greedy little thing.”

One particularly forceful grind has Briar’s nails scoring lines down my back hard enough to sting. I hiss sharply through bared teeth, free hand sweeping up her spine to fist in those silken strands. My grip tilts her head back, exposing the pale column of her throat in blatant invitation. Dipping down, I slant my mouth over the pulsing artery to suckle and bite marks into her porcelain flesh.

Briar lets out a shattered cry, spine bowing convulsively as her inner walls begin to flutter and clench in telltale spasms. She’s so bloody close, every rigid muscle taut and trembling on the razor’s edge. With a muffled growl, I adjust my grip to stroke those calloused pads over that spongy front wall in just the right spot, crooking my fingers to apply pressure where it’s needed. Her pussy immediately throbs greedily around the digits buried deep, body slicking with a fresh sheen of sweat.

Turns out I don’t even need to find that perfect tempo. The next few rolls of Briar’s hips take care of that for me. Her hips rotate, each punishing grind angled to glide my fingers over that exquisitely sensitive bundle of nerves as she creates her own frantic rhythm. Just a touch more insistent friction against her swollen pearl is all it takes to shatter her composure in one fell swoop.

Briar’s head lolls back, spine arching into a perfect bow as she lets out a long, deep moan. Glazed irises roll back as her brow furrows in blissful ecstasy, scarlet mouth shaping an ‘O’ of rapture. Her inner muscles clench in a series of convulsive spasms, that molten cunt milking me with rhythmic waves of silken heat.

Christ, she’s gorgeous… No… She’s more than that.

What’s beyond physical beauty? What words could I use to explain how utterly transcendent she is? An utter fucking vision as she comes apart in my arms, revelling in the heights of pleasure granted by my touch alone. I never want to stop watching her surrender so completely—so enraptured by the delirium of ecstasy that everything else falls away in those fleeting moments.

“You’re my only goddess,” I rumble in husky worship, dragging my thumb in firm circles over the swollen pearl still twitching through the aftershocks.