Page 191 of On Edge

I bite my lip.

His breath is hot, and his hands move with deliberate care, not quite going where I need them. But close, occasionally his knuckles graze between my legs, making me whimper. When he finishes, he rinses my legs and the neat triangle between them with warm water, his hands sliding roughly over my skin, making my spine tingle and a hot flushspread through my core.

“All done,” he says, but his voice is gravelly. “Ready for the party?”

“Not yet. You missed a spot.”

I catch his wrist, yank him closer. Water sloshes over the edge of the tub as he almost falls in. He gives me a dark look and leans in. Ignoring him, I pull his hand between my thighs, to where I’m wet and needy for him. “I prefer this bare.”

“You want me to take everything off?” His hands cup me, fingers sliding inside as he does, sparking me to life.

“Hmmm, maybe later.”

His lips find mine. The kiss is slow, deep, full of dark promise, and his fingers swirl through my clit, fucking me slowly and torturously, making my hips jerk and the water churn.

“Sage,” he breathes against my mouth. “If you keep fucking my hand like that, we’re going to miss Laine’s party.”

“Fuck her party. I want you to show me what you had in mind for the saltire cross.”

I shove Laine and Nola from my mind. They are my friends, and I care deeply about them, but Nola has gone missing and won’t let us help her, and Laine has her baby and Jaxon to occupy her. They won’t miss me for a little while tonight. I can be selfish for once, can’t I?

“You’re incredible,” he says against my mouth. “Terrifying and fucking incredible.”

Then he drags me out of the water and carries me into the bedroom.

TROY

We don’t make it anywhere else. With no cross, I make do and tie her to each bedpost instead, making sure I spread her pretty pussy as wide as possible.

Then I blindfold her.

Her body is still soaking wet, and she’s trembling, cold, no doubt. I take my time building and lighting a fire. With every noise, of matches striking, wood scraping, flames spitting to life, she jerks against her bonds.

“Troy? What are you doing?”

“Shhh, I’m busy.” There’s a smile on my face as she makes a frustrated sound.

“Are you even coming back?”

I turn to see her naked, exposed for me on the bed. Her hair is wet and tangled in the sheets. She looks divine, too good for me, but she always has been. The monster in me finds her absolutely fucking perfect, like she was made for me to hunt down and break apart, and devour whole. I wasn’t expecting her to surrender so readily to me, her throat bared like she’d been waiting for me to just take her, despite her instincts screaming at her not to. Even now, her breath is heavy as panic sets in, but she’s letting me do this.

She’s turned on so damn much, how can I stay away?

I can’t.

Once the fire is roaring, and she’s no longer shivering, though her nipples are still hard as bullets, and standing to attention for me, I walk over to where she’s lying, waiting like a sacrifice left at an altar for me. All the things I want to do to her, she has no fucking idea.

But I would raze the world before I let anyone, including my twisted, fucked up self, hurt her.

Raze the fucking world.

“Fuck, yes. I’m coming back.” I take off my t-shirt and jeans, and then my boxers. “You’re mine, little finch. Don’t forget that.”

Then I kiss her, as deeply as I want, plunging my tongue inside her sweet mouth. She smells of gingerbread and tastes of mulled wine. Mercy is in my hands, and as I pull back from the kiss, I run the blade lightly across her jaw, over her neck and collarbone, down to her breasts.

“Do you remember when you asked me if it was true that I was a cannibal?”

Her entire body goes rigid. “Y-yes.”