Page 22 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

I let out a low moan when I think about being stuffed full of him. Of him forcing his cock inside, ramming so hard he leaves bruises on my thighs. Gripping my hips to hold me in place as he pounds away at me, destroying me completely.

The fingers holding my lips apart slide down further, past the end of the blade.

I barely register the knife nicking the sides of my fingers as the tips graze my opening and the thin piece of skin of my hymen.

My stomach swirls, and I whimper in need.

My mind conjures an image of my devil, my fingers replaced with the head of his cock.

His devilish shadow looms over me, but I feel the heat of his gaze.

I tense, my body preparing for his forceful thrust…

“Savina!” my devil barks, grabbing my attention before I can plunge my fingers inside.

My eyes snap open to look at him. My muscles go languid, and I sag against the bed. Frustration has my teeth grinding together.

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he asks, his tone sharp.

“You,” I answer in a small voice.

“Who’s allowed to stuff something inside it?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “Only you.”

“Then keep your fingers out of my fucking cunt unless I say otherwise. You touch only what I allow you to touch.”

“Please. I need… something .” I can’t help the needy sound in my voice.

“I’ll fill every goddamn hole you have until you’re overflowing soon enough. Until then, if anything so much as grazes the edge of that pussy, I’ll ruin it by fucking you with the sharp end of that dagger. Do you understand?”

This man is a fucking psychopath. Despite not knowing one thing about him, except that he’s killed two people in my name, I do know he’d follow through with that threat.

He’d hurt me in ways that would leave permanent marks.

On the inside and outside. What makes this situation even more fucked up, and what makes me appear as unstable as him, is that he’d be capable of making me like it while he punished me.

“Yes,” I whisper breathlessly.

“Now ride that fucking knife and make yourself come. I want that blade dripping with your arousal.”

I’m already so close to the edge that it won’t take much to shove me over.

I bring my fingers back to my pussy and part the slippery lips.

I push them wide open and apply pressure on the knife’s handle, grinding the blade against my clit.

Shockwaves of pleasure tighten the muscles in my stomach and legs, and my breasts quiver when I let out an unsteady moan.

I cut myself several more times and the pain adds fuel to the raging fire.

My toes curl into the duvet, and my hips lift off the bed.

A warm, tingly feeling starts in my stomach and moves down between my legs.

Starbursts of light explode in my vision, and my mouth falls open as I let out a loud cry.

The tips of my fingers and toes go numb.

My cries build in volume the harder my release hits.

It’s a good thing the walls in the house are thick and well-insulated.

I pant as the intense feeling slowly fades. Sluggishly, I remove the blade from my clit and drop it beside me on the bed. My legs release their tension and fall open even more as I relax. My pussy stings from when the dagger sliced into me, but I barely notice the pain.

My attention is focused on the end of my bed where my devil still stands, his tense shoulders rising and falling as he breathes heavily.

My eyes follow him as he comes around to the side and looks down at me behind the twin holes in his mask.

I can only imagine what I must look like with my legs spread wide, blood on my thighs and pussy, and the bed beneath me soaked with my release and crimson.

“You tempt my control,” he admits huskily.

“I want to break it,” I confess.

“When that happens, there will be nothing left of you.”

He picks up the dagger and lifts the bottom part of his mask. He brings the flat edge to his mouth and runs the blade over his tongue, licking away my arousal and blood.

“I like the way your blood and cum taste.”

My clit pulses in need.

“You were such a good girl tonight, Vicious. My perfect little whore.”

My chest expands, and I feel ridiculously pleased at his praise.

His hand comes to my thigh, and he runs the pads of his fingers up the inside. I widen them, letting him know that I want his touch. I don’t think it makes a difference, though. I get the sense he’ll touch me whether I want him to or not.

The closer his fingers get to the center of me, the harder it is to breathe. When he reaches my pussy, I let out a low moan and lift my hips, needing more.

There’s a slight sting when he slips his fingers between my folds and swipes the area where the dagger nicked me. The pain only adds to my desire and makes me rock my hips more. He smashes his palm against me, and it easily slides over my flesh because the whole area down there is soaking wet.

All too soon, he takes away the pleasure. The protest is on my lips, but it falls short when he puts his hand in front of my face.

“Lick it clean,” he orders.

His hand glistens with my arousal and the red of my blood has made the clearish liquid a light pink.

I part my lips and lay my tongue on the center of his palm, licking it from the bottom all the way up to his fingertips.

It tastes salty, slightly bitter, with a hint of copper.

I do it a couple more times before he shoves two of his fingers into my mouth.

He’s not gentle in the slightest as he pushes them to the back of my throat.

I gag and lift a hand to grab his wrist, but his harsh demand stops me.

“Hands on the fucking mattress,” he barks.

My arm drops back down with a thump.

He shoves his finger deeper, and the room fills with the sound of my gagging. I can’t even taste myself or my blood anymore because he’s so far past my taste buds.

He takes his fingers out of my mouth and I suck in a breath, my throat working to swallow down the saliva he activated.

His long fingers wrap around my throat, and he pulls me up at the same time he drops his face close.

The bottom of his mask is still lifted and his mouth takes mine in a conquering kiss meant to dominate and show power.

A stinging bite of pain explodes on my bottom lip when his teeth sink into the pillowy softness hard enough to draw blood.

Then he’s swiping his tongue across the small wound, licking the crimson away.

“Sweet and addicting,” he growls. “A dangerous combination for you, Vicious.” He bites at my lip again, drawing more blood into his mouth. “Until next time.”

He turns and walks to the balcony doors, slipping out into the darkness and closing them behind him.

Leaving me utterly breathless and every bit a needy little whore.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I get up. I’m still in shock over what happened tonight. How I used a dagger to get myself off. How I allowed a complete stranger to manipulate me. A stranger who shows classic signs of being a psychopath.

The area between my legs is sore from the knife, but it doesn’t take away the needy feeling that still lingers.

I grab the dagger and get up from the bed. If I had been smart, I would have used that dagger against him. I should have shoved it against his throat and demanded he leave my room and to never return.

Guess I’m not smart. I guess what they say about lust making people do crazy things is true. That’s why lust is one of the seven deadly sins.

I look around my room, checking the corners and the small cat bed under the window.

I don’t see Loki anywhere. The bathroom door is open, but my closet door is shut, which I usually don’t close.

I go to it and pull the door open. Loki immediately darts out, seeming no worse for wear.

The closet must be where he was the first time my devil came to me.

Loki jumps on the bed, paying me no attention, as he walks in a couple of circles before settling down into a ball on one of the pillows.

I leave him there and go to the bathroom.

My thighs are sticky from my juices and blood, and there’s no way I’m sleeping like that.

I turn the dial for the shower, and within seconds the water turns warm.

After I pull my hair up, I walk underneath the spray.

The water falling down my body to the drain runs pink.

My shower is quick and only necessary to rinse away the evidence of my depravity.

Once I’m done, I pad out to my room naked.

I hate to disturb Loki, but the duvet on my bed needs to be changed.

In the morning, I’ll stuff it inside a bag and pass it on to Marcelo to dispose of.

I grab a spare cashmere throw blanket from the small trunk in my closet and carry it back with me to the bed.

Pulling open my bedside drawer, I pull out the bottle of vitamins I take every night. I place the pill on the back of my tongue and take a sip of water from the glass bottle of Hallstein I always have sitting there. Then I climb under the soft throw blanket.

Within moments, my eyes start to drift closed, exhaustion quickly taking me under. And almost immediately, a shadowy image of my devil looming over me comes to mind.