Page 20 of Frost Bite
Death grins as he removes the hilt from my pussy. “I’ve unlocked your deepest desires.”
He removes the dagger from between my legs, and a shudder sweeps through me. I’m soaked in my own release and marked withhis blood. “May the gods forgive me…”
He tears off a piece of his shirt and wraps it around his hand, tying it off with a tight knot. “We are the only gods here. The only ones you need to concern yourself with.”
I can’t keep my legs from shaking. “You are not gods. You’re monsters.”
“And yet even as you curse us, you crave more.” He crawls up the length of my body and straddles my chest, careful not to place all his weight on me. “So let me satiate you. Open your mouth.”
My stomach knots. “Please. I’m so tired. And I haven’t eaten.”
He smirks, and his eyes flicker with darkness as he holds the blade closer to my face. “Let me feed you then. Open your mouth.”
Oh dear gods. I feel my cheeks heat. “What do you plan to do?”
He presses the hilt to my lips. “Nourish you. Now clean this off for me.”
He shifts down and places a bit of his weight on my chest, showing how he could crush me in seconds if he wanted to.
My lips quiver as I part them. A wave of nausea swims in my belly as I fight to swallow the acidic bile down my throat. This is so wrong. I don’t want to taste myself nor his blood.
His sinister smirk deepens as he slides the hilt over my tongue. He wraps his other hand around my throat. “That’s a good girl. Lick it clean.”
I wrap my lips around the hilt, and something wild flickers in my core. The taste of my own arousal on his knife, the way he thrusts it slowly in and out of my mouth whilst fresh blood dripsdown his wrist… it sends an unexpected tingling between my legs. Ashamed, I try to stifle a moan, but he squeezes my throat.
“Don’t you dare hold back. The sooner you accept your fate, the easier your life will be,” he snaps.
He pushes farther in, teasing the back of my throat. I flinch as my gag reflex kicks in. My eyes water. He smiles and releases my throat, sliding his hand down between my breasts, across my belly, before slipping two fingers inside my pussy.
I’m like a rag doll, a puppet, flopping around on the bed while at the mercy of the most sadistic man I’ve ever met. Caught in a rhythm so expertly crafted by his chaos. The sensation erases my fear, transforming my pain and discomfort into complete and utter bliss.
He pinches my nub hard between his fingers, dotting my vision with stars. “Uhhh,” I cry out. The pressure threatens to steal all the air from my lungs. And for a brief moment, I don’t mind dying this way. I would gladly drown in the darkness and never come up for air in exchange for this diabolical pleasure.
“Now you’re remembering who you really are,” he growls. “Let the beast out, little doe. Embrace her once again.”
His words disorient me. I’m wrenched from this earth, my soul teetering above my traitorous body as he delivers the final blow to my nerves. I choke on the hilt, cumming hard on his thick fingers. But he doesn’t let up. Instead, he gives my swollen nub a hard pinch, pushing me all the way over the edge.
I scream from the sudden assault, but within seconds, the pain dissipates and leaves a warm, fuzzy sensation in its place. “Ohhh…” I rock my hips against his hand, milking every drop of my arousal.
“Aren’t you pleased I didn’t stop, little doe?” He removes the hilt from my mouth, his lips wet. He salivates as he hovers over me.
I gaze up at his striking face. He’s as beautiful as he is deadly. “Yes,” I say on a shallow breath.
He nuzzles my cheek with his nose. “Yes what? I want to hear you say it.”
Another rush of heat sweeps over me. But this isn’t shame like before. No. It’s desire. A carnal awakening. “Yes, I-I am pleased that you didn’t stop, my lord.”
Satisfied, he frees my wrists from their shackles. “Good. Now we must get you cleaned up and fed.”
As soon as my ankles are free, I curl up into a ball. “Thank you,” I whisper. With each second that passes, a little more of my fear leaves me. I must accept this, embrace it even. I take comfort in knowing there will be no more death. No more girls sacrificed to the Wild Hunt after me.
“You are a peculiar girl, Imogen. You’re not afraid of us. You’re afraid of what we will make you become. I find that strange and delightful.” Death stands next to the bed, holding a black cloak. “Put this on.”
I stretch my limbs, willing the blood back into them, before attempting to stand. Is he right? Do I only fear that which is to become of me? I shudder as I slip into the warm cloak. I’ve been naked for so long I almost forgot what wool feels like on my skin.
He spins me around and buttons me up. “The others are waiting downstairs. They will want to see you now. So be a good little pet and get back on your hands and knees.”
I sputter out a shaky breath. “Please… I’m so tired.”