Page 30 of Tortured Soul (Soulless #1)

Lola

“ W hat the hell were you thinking?” I asked, pushing at his chest roughly.

He didn’t move an inch, lifting an eyebrow and pointing at the side of his face I didn’t shave yet.

“In under twenty-four hours, you’ve already told him I have no soul and mentioned my other mates,” I fumed, crossing my arms over my chest. “What happened to the Dimitri who kept to himself and always had my back?”

He exhaled, rolling his eyes. His hand caught my wrist and brought the blade to the side of his face, holding my gaze.

“I always have your best interests at heart, agápi mou .”

He pressed the sharp edge against his skin, trying to push my hand to resume its previous action.

“It doesn’t look like it.”

His eyes turned pleading, melting some of the anger constricting my heart.

“Ania,” he said, the name calling my attention. “Please.”

My lips parted on a sharp intake of air at the foreign but familiar nickname. A shortened version of what my parents had decided to call me, so many years ago.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed the blade down to his jaw, applying a little more pressure than was necessary.

“You didn’t have to talk about the possibility of me having other mates,” I insisted.

Dimitri chuckled through his nose, closing his eyes briefly, not at all bothered or concerned by the risk of me cutting him.

“The guy has visions . Maybe he even already knows your real name, Anastasia .” I gave him a death stare, making him laugh some more.

“And come on, he’s your mate. I was like this with Blake too.

We’re supposed to be a binded group, we should learn as much as we can about each other.

Was I supposed to brush him off? He deserves to know.

About you and our history. He seems open to sharing his with you, it’s only fair we play along. ”

Was it? Was it fair to share all this with him when I could never be what he wanted me to be? To disappoint yet another mate?

“There’s no point.” I shaved the last of his short stubble. “I don’t have a soul. I’ll only end up disappointing him like I’ve disappointed you. Abandoning him like I’ve abandoned Blake. It would be better for everyone if I just kept to myself and you all forgot about me.”

He stood up abruptly, the sharp knife nicking at the skin of his throat, leaving a reddening line behind. His hand shoved me flat against the cold surface of the kitchen counter as he leaned over me, a menacing look on his face.

“No. It would be selfish . You don’t get to take that decision from any of us.

I kept my mouth shut when you ran away from Blake since you had a good reason for doing so, but not here .

Not again . As far as I know, our lives aren’t in any danger, and even if you don’t have a soul for us to bind ourselves to, it’s still our choice if we want you anyway. ”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I placed the blade back on his throat, right under the first line already closing off, leaving a little red blood behind.

“Let go of me,” I said as the red swirled in his eyes.

His hips nestled between my legs, against my uncovered core, and a blush crept up my neck and cheeks. The corner of his lips tilted up.

“You’re going to have to make me, because I’m never letting go of you, zhizn moya .”

I sobbed, my hand trembling around the handle of the blade, the pressure of it slicing the skin next to his Adam's apple. He groaned, but pushed against it with a grin.

“Why?” I cried. “Everything I’ve done made you miserable! Every decision I’ve made turned you into what you are today! I robbed you of the future you should’ve had, aren’t you sick of following me like a lost puppy?”

His hand landed on my throat, the grip strong but careful.

“You did all that. And I’m still here. Because my soul belongs to you.

Because one day, one way or another, I’ll get to claim yours from the depths of hell and make it fucking mine,” he growled, his face inches from mine.

“ You did not rob me from your soul. The bastard who turned you robbed us from it.”

A strangled sob broke free as my hand shook, cutting his skin deeper.

“Hurt me all you want, chérie . Better it be me than you. I can take whatever you’ll throw at me.”

His other hand circled my wrist, pressing the cutting edge deeper, the blood now pouring from the wound onto both our hands. He moaned, the warm air brushing against my parted lips.

“Go ahead, I’ll bleed myself dry if you ask me to,” he whispered and another cry escaped me as I let go of the knife.

He caught it before it fell between us and threw it to the side just as I grabbed his head and pulled his face to mine, crushing his lips against my own.

He groaned against my mouth, his free arm sliding between my lower back and the counter, lifting my hips to press himself against me from a better angle.

“Did that make you feel better?” he asked between kisses. I licked at his lower lip with eagerness. “Answer me.”

“No.”

I kissed him deeper, circling his waist with my legs, rocking my hips against his.

“Was it not my blood you wanted, then?”

My hands tightened on the back of his head, pulling at his hair, scratching his skull. He moaned against my mouth, thrusting his hips forward, the bulge in his pants hitting just the right spot between my thighs.

“Use your voice, lille fugl . Let me hear how pretty you still sing.”

“Take off your clothes and fuck me.”

He smiled against my lips, nipping and licking.

“Giving me orders now, are you?”

His hands left my throat and went to find the buttons of his shirt, the same he wore last night, slowly undoing them one at a time.

Torturously slow.

I reached for one of the openings only to rip it open, sending the buttons flying everywhere and revealing the mark marring a big part of his chest. The red and silver swirling lines that spoke of his love, his devotion, for me. My throat suddenly felt too tight.

Grabbing at the sides, I pulled him back against my lips before sliding the fabric over his shoulders.

“I like it when you’re so eager for me,” he rasped as I fumbled with his belt buckle. “When you want me so much that you’re asking me to fuck you even though you’re wearing the clothes of another of your mates. In that mate’s home. Do you think Arc would like to watch and join like Blake did?”

His hands roamed the outside of my naked thighs, sliding up and up to reach under the T-shirt and land on my hips, pulling to rub my core against his covered length.

“You’re making a mess on my clothes,” he said, nipping at my jaw. “So wet and already aching for it.”

The half frustrated groan and moan of pleasure escaping my lips made him grin wider. Why was this belt too fucking hard to unbuckle?

He grabbed both my hands and lifted them above my head, trapping them against the cold surface.

“How long has it been since you last came at the hand of someone who knew your body better than their own?”

Too long. Decades. Maybe more. Maybe he was the last one and he knew it.

“Dimitri,” I begged. “Please.”

“Fuck, Ania,” he breathed in my neck, sending shivers up my body. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to shut up and actually do something instead of taunting me.”

He chuckled, sending puffs of warm air against my heated skin. His head lifted and our gaze held. Hands letting go of my wrist, one of them landed in front of my face and he smirked.

“Don’t move,” he said, snapping his fingers.

An invisible force pulled my wrists together and held them in place against the cold counter.

I tried to pull on the restraints but froze with a gasp when his middle finger brushed my entrance and slid up to bring more wetness to my clit.

He didn’t say anything, but I could see the way the red in his eyes gleamed as he held my gaze .

My back arched and eyes closed, a light moan breaching my throat. The circles he rubbed were precise, trained. He knew exactly what my body needed and how to bring me to the brink of insanity.

“Dimitri,” I whined, rocking my hips against his hand.

He pulled it away and a frustrated sound broke free, quickly replaced by another moan as his lips closed on the apex of my core and his tongue swirled on the bundle of nerves.

Both his arms locked around my thighs, pulling me closer, burying his face between them.

My eyes rolled in the back of my head as the room filled with obscene sounds. The pressure building in my lower stomach, the energy rushing under my skin, the restraints keeping me from moving my arms and reaching for his hair, all were overwhelming in the best way.

One of his long fingers pushed inside me, curling just enough to press on that sensitive spot deep inside and I cried out, back lifting from the counter entirely.

“Dimitri, I’m—”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t finish that warning as my whole body tensed and lungs constricted, legs shaking around his head. He groaned against my core, sending more vibrations, and pressing down on my lower stomach to rub harder on my G-spot.

My vision blackened, stars dotting the darkness.

“F—fuck,” I moaned as the orgasm kept hitting me in waves.

I was still a limp, trembling mess when he straightened up, cock finally freed from his pants, and lined up against my entrance, hands gripping at my hips.

“There’s no way I can hold back more than five minutes, zhizn moya ,” he said, pushing inside in a deep thrust. “So hold on to me, because I’m going to fuck you like my damn life depends on it.”

The invisible band pressing on my wrist vanished and I eagerly circled my arms around his wide shoulders, pulling him to me as he pulled out only to thrust back in more forcefully, ripping a cry out of me.

I felt whole for the first time in decades, reveling in the sensation of him pushing himself inside me to the hilt over and over, stretching me to accommodate him with each of his thrusts. Of his deep moans in the crook of my neck. His bruising grip on my hips and thighs.

All his emotions and thoughts in that moment started to echo in my head. Mine , he kept thinking. Mine first . Mine forever.

He straightened up, bringing one of his hands around my throat and locking his eyes with mine.

I was his, always had been. He was my first, and he made sure that I knew he was going to be here until the never-coming end. His body was meant to fit mine, and mine his.

The second orgasm hit me out of nowhere.

I inhaled sharply before his hand tightened and the air was stuck in my lungs, my own hand scratching at his forearm uncontrollably.

My pussy clamped down around his cock and he stilled with a raspy moan, pupils expanding in his swirling red irises.

Warmth burst out inside me with his orgasm and I could see my reflection shining bright in his admiring eyes.

Slowly, his hand let go of my throat to grab onto the back of my head, fingers sliding in my hair, and his mouth crushed against mine in a deep, slow kiss.

We weren’t like that for long before I heard someone cursing and Dimitri lifted his face toward the sound in a sharp motion. The grin stretching his lips was wicked.

“The fuck are you two doing on that counter? I fucking eat there.”

Carter sounded pissed. But Dimitri only smiled wider before giving me another slow thrust and bringing his mouth back to my neck.

He bit down, piercing the skin and licking sensually at my blood.

It didn’t hurt. It never did.

I moaned again as he groaned in pleasure against my skin, my back arching against him in need. Need for more. More of this agonizing pleasure. More of him .

Dimitri almost never indulged in his inherited blood cravings, except when it was related to sex and intimacy.

Or trying to piss another Divine off, apparently.

A door slammed in the background, but Dimitri greedily licked a few more times at the blood pouring from my neck before lifting his face and kissing me again.

When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against mine, chuckling softly.

“This asshole is going to burst from jealousy alone.”