Page 66 of Wicked Tides #1

Tears spilled over onto my cheeks and I trembled, savoring the taste of the man—the hunter—who’d twisted me into such a mess. I did not want his mercy. Perhaps I never had. I wanted his ruthlessness and his brutality.

I ground myself against him, lifting my head to take him in another kiss and he reciprocated with vigorous need. He released my wrist and in turn, I released the knife, using my freedom to wrap my arms around him as he forced a hand between my legs.

I was wet with anticipation, a detail that did not escape him as he parted my lower lips and stroked me.

I twitched at the shock of pleasure and tore at Vidar’s shirt, searching for bare skin.

When I found it, I couldn’t help myself.

I was ravenous, dragging my nails against the flesh of his arms until I felt him hiss at the pain .

He forced two fingers into my heat and I gasped, my head falling back and breaking our kiss.

“Tell me now what it is you want,” he rasped. “Do you want to run? Do you want to kill me and be done with it?”

“I want you,” I confessed. “Against all reason, I want you.”

His mouth moved to my neck as he thrust his fingers into me again.

Impatient, I sunk my teeth into his shoulder, nearly breaking the skin.

When he drew back, I rolled him off of me and moved quickly over him, straddling his hips.

My loose dress slouched off one shoulder as I sat up astride him.

Seeing him beneath me woke something I did not know was there and a primal, possessive beast roused from within.

I pressed my hands to his chest and curled my fingers, my nails biting into his skin.

Vidar groaned through his teeth, his hands grasping my hips.

“You are mine,” I muttered. “You know you are.”

I shimmied down enough so that I could unlace his pants and reached inside, exposing the thick, hard length of him.

I wanted nothing more than to put him in my mouth and suck him to completion, but I recalled what he said to me in the pool.

Looking up, I caught him staring at me with a brow raised.

Teasingly, keeping my eyes locked on his, I licked a slow, torturous trail along his cock before moving myself over him again and poising my entrance against his tip.

Vidar, hands on my hips, watched himself disappear as I sunk down on his length.

I hungered for the stretch. For the sense of fullness.

For him . We both moaned when he was fully seated inside me and I began to move, trying to savor the sensation.

Vidar, now the impatient one, reached up and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me down to him.

Our lips met and he locked me in his arms as he pumped his hips upward.

Harder. Faster. When our mouths parted, I was sobbing, my body burning with desire.

Vidar clutched at my dress, pulling the whole thing over my head.

Once my breasts were free, he was quick to lay claim to one with his mouth.

His teeth closed over my nipple and I cried out, jolts of pain and pleasure blossoming inside me .

Vidar, thirsting for control, rolled me onto my back and thrust into me without restraint.

Every rock of his hips drove him painfully deeper, but I welcomed the agony.

The intensity. It made everything else disappear.

I wrapped my legs around him, clutching him tightly as he ravaged and claimed me.

When I felt that edge coming, I began to speak in tones I hadn’t used in a long time.

Tones that I knew Vidar would sense despite that he could not understand the words.

He drew back to look at me, slowing his rhythm as he took my throat again in his grip.

“What are you doing?” he said.

I placed my hand on his wrist but did not fight him. “My pleasure will be yours,” I breathed. “And yours will be mine.”

“What are you saying?”

“Words you need not fear. Please. Give us this.”

He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, but relented, continuing to rock into me with renewed force. And I continued to speak in hushed, strained tenors, words that opened a window through which we could both see the other. Feel the other. Our pleasure and pain and desire married in that moment.

“Harder,” I breathed.

He seized both of my wrists, lifting them over my head as he thrust, the force of his body driving my back roughly against the ground.

I could hardly breathe. My mouth was agape, but soundless.

And then the wave came rushing forth until I felt myself descending over that sharp ledge into complete bliss.

The knots unraveled inside me, letting all the pieces fall into place.

I choked on my cries as I came and as if in unison, I felt Vidar’s muscles go taut and he too was riding our climax.

My vision blurred and every bone and muscle and nerve in my body shivered with release.

Vidar continued to thrust into me, torturing us both as we came.

Liquid heat spilled inside me, claiming my body.

My soul. It seemed unending. There was nothing outside of us.

I’d lost my breath in the chaos of it and when the perfect assault finally ebbed, I was a boneless, spent mass beneath the weight of Vidar’s body.

He collapsed on top of me, his breathing labored.

Our bodies were slick with blood and sweat and the air filled with our combined scents.

“Fuck,” Vidar breathed against my ear.

His cock was still inside me. Neither of us wanted to move and were content savoring the serenity that followed.

Our hearts slammed against each other, flooding my ears with their frantic cadence.

I turned my head toward Vidar’s ear where Collin’s pistol had torn the cartilage.

I breathed against it, my lips whispering across his lobe.

Something was balancing on the tip of my tongue, wanting to be said, but I wondered again if it was true. If it was the right time. If it would ever be the right time. He was without his silentium and I could command so many things from him.

But all I wanted to command was that he be mine.

Because deep down I knew—I’d always known…

Vidar Woelfson was mine.