Page 79 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

OPHELIA

B lood… warm and sticky runs down my hands as I watch the life leave the male’s unremarkable eyes.

He begged like all the others before him, calling out for the gods to shine mercy upon him.

The gods had ignored my every plea to show mercy to Elijah, to save him from his fate.

If not for him, why would they give such a gift to the filth before me?

Like all the others, I had carefully picked this male. I watched him for hours before deciding his fate. He was no innocent. I had seen the bruises that covered his young wife’s skin, the fear in her eyes a distant echo of the fear that once lived in mine.

I wipe the blood off my dagger using his tunic before letting his lifeless body drop to the ground. The guards would find him in the morning, and I would be sleeping safely in my bed at the castle. One more useless bastard is off the streets, bringing my total to six.

“Hello, little assassin,” Cillian’s lilted voice echoes around me.

Spinning to face him, I slide the dagger behind my back. Caught up in the high of my kill, I hadn’t even noticed his presence. No one had caught on to me yet, but I’d gotten careless.

“Cillian,” I say, my voice coming out as a breathy whisper.

He saunters forward, forcing my back against the wall.

Invading the space around me, he leans against the brick wall behind me and braces an arm above my head.

Everyone is tall compared to me, but Cillian’s height forces me to crane my neck up to maintain eye contact.

He’s not touching me, but I still feel his presence everywhere.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I say, doing my absolute best to keep my voice even.

He quirks a brow at me. “And what does it look like?”

I’m at a loss for words, not having expected that question.

“Because to me, it looks like you’re making good use of that dagger I gave you.” He swipes a thumb down my cheek before pulling it away, stained with blood. “To me, it looks like you are absolutely stunning, covered in blood. A breathtaking, murderous creature.”

His words spark a warmth in me I haven’t felt since Elijah died.

“He deserved it,” is all I can come up with in response.

“Did he, now?”

“He beats his wife.” The words rush out of me, my chest heaving as he closes the space between our bodies. His broad frame presses firmly against mine, his spicy and sweet scent wrapping around me like a cloak. My head spins as I breathe out the rest of my reasoning. “Nearly killed her last week.”

Understanding flashes through his teal eyes. “You don’t have to justify anything to me, little assassin. I quite literally kill people for a living.”

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers slowly trailing down my throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Do they deserve it?” I ask, not sure if I really want the answer.

“Some of them.”

“But not all of them?”

“No one is truly innocent, Ophelia.”

“Elijah was,” I whisper. Pain dances in his eyes, my chest constricting at the sight of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Since Elijah died, I have felt one of two things: violent, burning rage or nothing at all. I tire of having no control over my feelings. I need to feel something other than that, Cillian. That moment when I see their life fading away gives me a reprieve.”

He nods in clear understanding. “Sooner or later, the prince will catch on. If you need to feel, Ophelia, if you crave that control, there are much better ways.” His tone is suggestive, heating my blood even further.

I reach a tentative hand out to cup his jaw. Desperate to feel more of this, more than just the anger of the last weeks, I whisper, “Show me.”

A devilish grin spreads across his handsome face.

Leaning close so our lips are nearly touching, he murmurs, “I’m going to give you that control you crave, darling.

But I’m going to take away all illusions of control in the process.

” His breath ghosts my lips, hot and dangerous.

“You will do exactly as I say. No and stop have no place between us. If you want this to end, you will say lilac . Am I understood?”

I nod, silently begging him to close the distance between our lips.

“I need verbal confirmation, Ophelia.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“What’s your word?”

“Lilac,” I say, my voice breathy.

His nostrils flare at my response. “One last thing, this can’t mean anything. I’ll give you what you need, but I can’t be anything more.”

“I don’t want this to mean anything,” I confirm. I need to feel something. “I just want you to fuck me, Cillian.”

“Good. Now close your eyes.”

I feel his lips brush faintly against mine and a slight tugging sensation before the scrape of the brick behind me disappears.

With my eyes still closed, Cillian takes the dagger from my hand, tossing it somewhere behind us.

“Open your eyes.”

When I do, I find us not in the alley but in a bedroom, presumably his.

“Why—”

“No questions,” he growls as he unfastens my cloak, letting it drop to the floor.

A moment later, his lips finally meet mine, taking my mouth in a scorching kiss. He wastes no time deepening it, demanding entrance with his tongue.

I give in, parting my lips for him and meeting his tongue with my own. His scent invades my nostrils, a rich mixture of clove and vanilla. Everything about him is intoxicating.

With every kiss and lash of his tongue, the anger and pain in me fade, overrun by the heat blossoming in my core.

Long fingers make quick work of my corset, unlacing and pulling it from my body. It drops to the floor, leaving me in nothing but a shift. It does nothing to hide my peaked nipples, and he takes notice.

He rips the thin cotton down the middle without breaking our kiss, leaving me entirely bare as the ruined fabric falls.

A whimper escapes me with the combination of pain and pleasure erupting as he bites my lip and pinches the delicate peak of my breast.

With one hand, he unbuckles and removes his belt. I reach for the button of his leathers, but he swats my hand away, instead grabbing both my wrists and bringing them together in front of me.

He binds my wrists tightly together using the belt and grins wildly. Something sparks in his eyes at having me bound and helpless before him. Something equally as dangerous fires inside of me at the same thought.

His left hand threads through my dark waves, fingers tugging tightly, leaving me groaning from the sting.

“On your knees,” he demands before shoving me down. Thankfully, I land on my discarded cloak, lessening the impact with the stone floor.

Using his right hand, he flicks open the button of his leathers, dragging them down until his length springs free, a drip of pre-come glistening the tip.

“Shit,” I mumble. Elijah was my only point of comparison, but while he had been impressive, Cillian legitimately scares me.

“It’ll fit, I promise,” he says with a chuckle. “Now open those pretty lips for me, Ophelia.”

I do as he says, opening as wide as possible to allow him entry. Groaning at the taste of him in my mouth, I circle my tongue around the crown. I repeat the action before hollowing my cheeks and sucking him in further.

A loud moan leaves as he pants, “I’m going to fuck that heavenly mouth of yours.”

His grip in my hair tightens just before he thrusts hard, making me choke when he hits the back of my throat. But he doesn’t relent. He viciously thrusts in and out of my mouth, using me for his pleasure. Over and over, I choke around his length while tears stream down my cheeks.

Unable to move or control any of this has me more aroused than I care to admit. Wetness pools between my legs as his thrusts increase, and I’m forced to do nothing but take it from him.

Cillian abruptly pulls out, his chest heaving. He wipes away a tear as he growls, “Fuck, you look gorgeous choking on my cock.”

I bite my lip, unsure what to say to that.

He yanks me up with the hand still fisted in my hair and directs me to his bed. I lay back, letting my legs fall open for him. Teal eyes roam my body like a predator eyeing its prey. And that’s exactly what he is, a predator.

He shoves my still-bound wrists above my head as he kneels over me on the bed. His remaining clothing is removed next, and he drags his fingers up my inner thigh.

“You’re dripping for me, little goddess.” He smirks, biting seductively on his lower lip. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you beg me to stop. But I won’t. I’m not stopping until you’re thoroughly spent, with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

I groan, “Then why are you still—” I’m cut off mid-sentence as he sheaths himself inside me.

I scream, partly at the pleasure erupting under my flesh and partly from the burn as I stretch to accommodate him.

“You were saying?” he asks with a wink.

“Fuck me,” I pant.

“I’m trying to, love.” He brushes his thumb over my other nipple, trailing his hand down to my navel. “I need you to relax for me so I can bury myself fully.”

My eyes widen, looking down to where we’re connected. “There’s more?” I ask in disbelief at how full I already feel.

“Not even half of it,” he growls, pushing forward another inch.

His lips find my breast, sucking the hardened peak into his mouth. At the same time, his thumb finds my clit, working it in tight circles. It’s enough to distract me as he pushes the rest of the way in one smooth stroke.

A moan rips free from my lips, my back arching off the bed as he bottoms out. He continues his ministrations on my clit and nipple for several seconds before whispering, “Enough adjusting.”

The way Cillian fucks is animalistic and raw. There is absolutely nothing soft or gentle about the way he ruts into me, his hips snapping against mine, as soft growls resonate in his throat.