Page 116 of The Ecstasy of Sin

This is more than sex, and more than murder. This is a ritualistic claiming, a branding I’ll never heal from. This is a baptism in blood and sin.

And I’ve never wanted anything more.

CHAPTER 29

Dominic

Theirbloodisallover me.

And so is she. My perfect, beautiful little lamb.

So wet, and aching, and needy for me. Still desperate for more, even with the man who tried to kill her dying feet away from where I’m fucking her, bleeding out like the worthless piece of shit he is.

Her pussy pulses around my cock, soaked from the orgasms I forced out of her body. Her slickness coats me with every thrust, and her moans are the most beautiful sound in the world.

She saw the worst of me. The bloodthirsty sadist with an addiction to being a god, and she didn’t turn away. She turned toward me. And came all over me, while I carved another man open for her.

Wren was made for me.

Made to be just like this, bent over the table, taking everything I give her. She’s soft and submissive… and completely mine.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, baby,” I murmur, my hand wrapped in her soft brown hair, holding her head up so she can watch Boris die.

Her face is flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes half-lidded and glassy. Her pussy is swollen and flushed around my cock, swallowing each thrust as I drive into her.

“Dominic, please,” she begs, each jolt of my hips drawing a moan from her. She is so yielding and sweet, everything about her is a drug to me.

She’s the polar opposite of almost everything in my life, the light that balances my darkness. I want her exactly like this forever, and I’ll do anything to give her the soft life she’s always needed.

I’ll be her sword and her shield.

Pleasure shoots up my spine every time I sink inside of her body, riding the high of making Boris bleed while I claim the woman I love.

Love.Fuck, it’s love and so much more. She’s everything.

My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips, my jaw clenched tight as fire licks up my spine, pleasure threatening to consume me whole.

I’m holding on, doing everything I can to prolong this, to stave off the soul-shattering orgasm hovering just in front of me.

Then Boris starts gasping. Those sharp, wet pulls of air while blood bubbles from his cracked, pale lips. His eyes bulge as his heart begins to arrest.

My soul ignites as he dies.

Unhinged by his dying gasps, I drive into Wren with brutal force.

My arm snakes around her waist, fingers finding her clit—stroking hard and steady. She whimpers my name, sweet and ruined, just as Boris begins to convulse.

His body seizes in the chair, restraints groaning under his weight, his chest and face mangled from the violence I wrought upon him.

Wren begins to beg. Her hips match my rhythm, thrust for desperate thrust. I’m right at the edge, gripping the cliff with bloodied fingers… waiting, just waiting for that perfect fucking moment…

And then it happens. Boris takes one last, gasping breath, his eyes wide, and his face as pale as a ghost.

Death claims him, and my release detonates.

The moan that tears out of me is guttural and primal. My head falls back as my cock jerks deep inside her. I come so fucking hard my vision darkens around the edges. I fill her completely, pulse after pulse, until I feel my cum spilling out, dripping down her thighs, soaking the table beneath her.

But I’m not done, and neither is she.