Page 81 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

“Then no,” I admitted.

Gedeon’s lips lingered briefly below my ear. “I threw you over my shoulder and carried you through the city. To persuade the guards at the gates to let us through, I told them that you tried to run away from me and that I wanted to teach you a lesson.That I was going to strip you of your clothes, tie you to a tree, and have my way with you. Mark you with my bites, stretch your tight little pussy, and have you scream my name.”

Fire licking my cheeks sucked the air out of the underground. A whimper drifted out of me and his satisfied growl at my reaction curled my toes in my sneakers.

“Finish this and get him off the table,” he ordered Zion.

I objected, “Don’t kill him yet.” I couldn’t put into words the reason why I’d asked for the man’s life to be extended, but I was certain of one thing: it was not to defend him.

Zion’s pouted lips stretched into a grin as he strode to me, murmured, “You’re too good for me,” and kissed me so ferociously I lost my breath.

He unchained the tortured man and rolled him off the table. A dull thud bounced off the damp walls as the body hit the ground. Slashing the backs of the guard’s ankles, he explained, “So he can’t run away. Not like I’d expect him to, but to be safe.”

Gedeon used his body to encourage me to move forward. “Hop on.”

“Not happening.” Puddles of red colored the steel table, and the idea of the man’s blood soaking my clothes held no appeal. “And why?—”

Gedeon roughly spun me around and hoisted me onto the table. “I want to fully carry out my promise to you.”

“What promise?” I asked, as Zion secured my wrists in separate cuffs. Sure, the chains restrained me, but…they didn’t raise my alarms.

Safety was an unsettling feeling.

“The one I started to fulfill in your bathroom.” He yanked on my hips, and Zion pulled on the chains.

My back slammed into the sticky metal surface, and my arms stretched out above my head. Tepid liquid seeped into the backof my t-shirt, and I decided right then and there that I was throwing it away and not doing laundry.

As I tugged on the restraints, the clinking sound reverberated in the underground deafeningly. “For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled.

“Exactly, little death, for fuck’s sake.” Gedeon pulled me to the edge of the table.

With my legs free, I kicked at him. “You fuckers!”

“That we are,” Zion said as they removed my shorts and panties.

Gedeon positioned my legs to drape over his shoulders and nuzzled his nose down my belly to between my thighs, pausing an inch away from me. “How long I have waited for this.”

With his dark eyes peering at me, my muscles tightened, and I squeezed his head between my legs.

“Throttle me if you wish to do so, but I will savor you until your legs shake.” The darkness in his eyes, whether from the dimness of the basement or his gravelly voice, lured me to surrender.

At this point, I could admit to myself I liked how they made me feel. So what if I used them for more than taking down Ilasall? Physical pleasure was just that—your body’s reaction to stimulation. So if they wanted to give me moments of it without requiring an exchange, without requesting favors or outlining conditions, then what the hell, I’d take what I could.

His tongue found my slit and leisurely swiped from my entrance to my clit and around it, and then back down to repeat it all over again.

And again.

Like he was mapping me out.

And again.

Like he wanted to taste each crevice of mine.

And again.

Like he sought to devour me whole.

He left my needy clit for the hundredth time, and I grunted, frustrated. “Gedeon,” I growled in warning.