Page 16 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)
His fingers hooked into the delicate lace, knuckles brushing against my hipbones. One savage twist and the sound of tearing fabric echoed through the room like a gunshot; the elastic bit into my skin for one sharp second before giving way.
I gasped as cool air hit exposed flesh, watching him toss the shredded remains over his shoulder with casual dominance.
"Much better," he muttered, his gaze raking over me like a physical touch.
His nostrils flared as he inhaled. The mattress shifted as he sank to his knees between my thighs, his broad shoulders forcing them wider apart.
My pulse hammered in my throat as he lowered his face until I could feel his hot breath against my most intimate flesh. A visible shudder ran through his powerful frame.
"You're fucking beautiful, Esme," he whispered, the words vibrating against my inner thigh.
His fingertip traced a fiery path along sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps behind. I couldn't stop the violent tremor shaking through me, nor the way my hips tilted upward in silent offering.
My eyes locked onto his face, showing a predatory focus, with the muscle jumping in his jaw and his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
The same hands that had snapped men's necks now hovered millimeters from my core, capable of such violence yet trembling with restraint. My chest constricted with the contradiction of it all.
I held my breath until spots danced at the edges of my vision, suspended in that impossible moment between terror and surrender.
My thighs quivered with the effort to stay open when every survival instinct screamed to close them, to run. Yet deeper than fear ran a current of molten need, a hunger so primal it obliterated reason.
Sanity whispered in the back of my mind.
This man is dangerous, this man is your enemy, this man will destroy you, but it grew fainter with each ragged breath. I watched his eyes track the pulse point at the juncture of my thighs, felt the heat of his gaze like a physical caress against slick flesh.
I shouldn't want this. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't arch my back, shouldn't dig my heels into the mattress, shouldn't expose my throat in ancient submission to the predator between my legs.
God help me, I did.
I surrendered everything—pride, power, and protection, spreading myself before him like a sacrifice on an altar.
The hunger in his eyes burned into me like a brand, reflecting the hollow ache I'd been running from across cities, across years. My chest constricted, throat tightening as the terrible truth crashed through me. This wasn't just want. It was a necessity, primal and inescapable as gravity.
I arched my spine, offering myself like a sacrifice, my body betraying every defense I'd built. The mattress creaked beneath us as I writhed, helpless against the magnetic pull between us.
His gaze swept over me, searching, hungry, assured. The moonlight caught the lines of his body, throwing sharp shadows across muscle and skin, making him look like something out of a fever dream, all edge, intent, and threat.
His cock was hard, no question, the veins standing out and pulsing with every heartbeat, every second. Those hands looked like they could break granite, but as they moved closer, I saw them shake.
"Please," I whispered, the word torn from somewhere deep and hidden.
His fingertip traced fire along my inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I gritted my teeth, fighting the whimper building in my throat.
When he dipped between my folds, the contact was electric, a lightning strike of sensation that shot from my core to my fingertips. My vision blurred at the edges as he found my clit, circling it with devastating precision.
My thighs fell open wider, trembling with the effort to stay spread for him.
He pressed harder, the pad of his finger slick with my arousal as he worked tight, merciless circles that sent shockwaves crashing through my system.
Each touch was deliberate torture, calibrated to build pressure without release.
I clawed at the sheets until my knuckles blanched white.
His thumb bore down on my clit with devastating precision, sending lightning strikes of sensation from my core to my fingertips.
The room tilted and blurred, reality fracturing into shards of white-hot pleasure.
My hips bucked against his hand with a will of their own, grinding for more friction, more pressure, more everything.
"Aidon," I cried out, his name torn from somewhere primal and ancient inside me.
The sound wasn’t human, more animal than woman.
His eyes locked on mine as he dragged his middle finger through my slickness, so slow I could feel each ridge of his fingerprint against hypersensitive flesh.
He circled my entrance once, twice, a third time, the pad of his finger collecting wetness but never breaching. My inner walls clenched around nothing, aching emptiness making me whimper.
My head shot up, muscles in my neck corded with tension. His lips curled into that infuriating half-smile, pupils blown wide with arousal but eyes glittering with something darker—control, power, triumph. A muscle ticked in my jaw as our gazes locked in a silent battle.
His finger pressed forward without warning, the thick digit parting my entrance and sinking into liquid heat. The invasion was both too much and still not enough.
"Oh, fuck!" The curse exploded from my lungs, my voice breaking on the second syllable.
My body jerked, hips twitching, as he worked his finger deeper. The muscles inside me clenched, tight and greedy, pulling him in like it was the one thing that mattered. Every little thrust sent heat slamming through my veins.
My vision blurred at the edges, with everything dimming. He watched, that stupid smirk spreading as I lost control right in front of him.
He slid a second finger alongside the first, stretching me further, the slight burn intensifying the pleasure. My greedy body accepted him, wet sounds filling the space between us as he began to move.
"Oh, Esme," he growled, dropping an octave, rough as gravel. "You're fucking drenched. Is that because of me?"
His fingers curled upward, finding that spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
He raised one dark eyebrow, looking up at me from between my trembling thighs, waiting. The power struggle between us crackled like electricity, even now, even with his fingers buried inside me and my body betraying every ounce of my hard-won composure.
"Yes," I hissed through clenched teeth, the admission burning my throat like acid. "You know it is."
The corner of his mouth lifted, that goddamn smirk as his chest expanded with a deep inhale of satisfaction.
Between my legs, his cock twitched, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.
This was Aidon Kosta, the man who'd ordered executions over breakfast, who'd built an empire on broken bodies, now watching me writhe beneath him with the raw hunger of a starving wolf.
His jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his stubbled skin. Triumph blazed across his face like a brand.
I let my thighs fall open wider, the cool air hitting my exposed flesh making me shiver.
"Fuck it," I whispered. "Just fuck me already."
I threw my head back against the pillow, neck arched, unable to bear the weight of his stare. The silk sheets twisted in my fists as I spread myself further, offering everything, surrendering. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out the voice of reason screaming at me to run.
His palm scorched a line down the inside of my thigh, his fingers digging in hard and leaving marks. The pressure of his grip sent a jolt of electricity up my spine. He forced my legs wider, exposing me. He devoured me with his gaze. I was laid bare in ways that went way beyond just the physical.
Then…nothing.
The sudden absence of his touch left my skin burning cold. The fingers that had been buried inside me vanished, leaving an emptiness that made me clench around nothing but air.
My eyes snapped open to find him hovering above me, that infuriating smirk carved deeper into his face, his breathing controlled while mine came in desperate pants.
"Say. You're. Mine." Each word fell between us like a gauntlet thrown down, vibrating through my bones and making my inner walls clench around emptiness.
His pupils dilated, leaving a thin ring of amber, predatory and possessive. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he hovered above me, cock throbbing with each heartbeat, the veins standing out in stark relief against flushed skin.
A single bead of sweat traced the hollow of his throat, sliding down the carved planes of his chest.
My clit pulsed, abandoned and aching, my entrance slick and clenching around nothing. The silk sheets beneath me were soaked through.
"Make me," I replied, arching my back so my hardened nipples brushed against his chest, a jolt of electricity shooting straight to my core.
He growled, a primal sound that reverberated through the room and seized my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head with bruising force.
His other hand gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him, his thumb pressing against my lower lip until my mouth parted.
"I told you this is a dangerous game, Esme," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear before he bit down on my earlobe, the sharp sting making me gasp.
"And I think you know I like danger, don't you, Aidon?" I rolled my hips upward, feeling the hot, heavy length of him slide against my wetness without entering.
"You never stop, do you?" His fingers tightened on my jaw, the pressure exquisite in its restraint.
"Do you?" I challenged, as the head of his cock nudged against my entrance, then retreated.
Our bodies trembled with the effort of restraint, skin slick with sweat, breath coming in ragged pants. His cock twitched against my inner thigh, leaving a wet trail of precum. I could feel my pulse hammering between my legs, my arousal dripping onto the sheets beneath us.