God of Malice (Legacy of Gods #1) by Rina Kent

I don’t think I’d ever be able to find pleasure if I wasn’t choked, thrown down, and properly claimed without me having a say in it.

I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy this with anyone but Killian.

Because as much as I hate to admit it, I trust him. He likes to hurt me, but he doesn’t want to break me.

He always said he wanted my fight, to dominate me, to hold me down and have his way with me, but he also gets off on me enjoying every second of it.

I’m about to come again, I feel it. I can taste in the air with every chopped-off inhale and exhale. My body is tuned to his, to how he spreads my legs farther and slides my wetness from where we’re joined to my back hole.

“What to do, baby? I think your ass is the one feeling left out now. We can’t let it miss the fun, no?”

A noise of pleasure is all I can release, because I’m about to fall again. Just when I’m on the edge, he pulls out.

My groan of frustration echoes in the air and the bastard has the audacity to chuckle. “Don’t be a greedy little rabbit. We’ve got to give your ass some love, too.”

He pushes me onto all fours, but I’m still holding the pencil on the paper. My core clenches when he parts my arse cheeks and slides two fingers inside. I bite my lip, used to this type of play whenever he’s pounding into me. Only, now, he adds a third finger and stretches my back hole until the overload of sensations tear me apart.

His other hand glides my arousal to my arse over and over until I’m writhing and bucking my hips. Just when I think I’ll come from how he’s stretching me, his fingers are gone.

“This may hurt.” His cock slides between my arse cheeks and he drives inside in one go.

I physically jerk forward with a groan, tears spilling on my sketch.

They’re relief tears, I realize. I most definitely am broken, because I’m utterly relieved that he didn’t take it easy.

And I’m flat out crying now due to the pain and the feeling of being so completely at his mercy that I can’t find a way out.

“Shh, relax. Don’t push me out.” He rolls his hips and does shallow thrusts that re-awaken my earlier arousal. I wiggle my hips, arching my back. “There, that’s my fucking girl.”

He finds his rhythm and pounds into me with an urgency that touches me to the bone. Every fiber of my being is tuned to him, to his power, to his sheer force.

And I can’t escape him, I realize.

What’s worse is that I don’t think I want to escape.

Maybe, deep down, I never did.

“Your ass feels as good as your cunt, baby. Feel how it’s swallowing my cock?” He slides out a little, then thrusts back in. “You belong to me.” Thrust. “This ass belongs to me.” He rams three fingers in my pussy. “This cunt is also mine.” He grabs my jaw and forces his index and middle fingers between my lips. “This mouth was the first to become mine.” He forces my jaw up with his remaining fingers so I stare at the mirror, then he pulls me so my back slams against his chest and his teeth bite down on my earlobe before he murmurs in dark words. “Next time you say what I’m offering is not enough, I want you to remember this view. I want you to remember how every part of you is fucking mine.”

I’m done for.

I don’t last.

I can’t.

He’s filling me up in ways I’ve never felt before, and it’s not only physically. I’m so done for on every other level.

And I’m free.

I look at him in the mirror as the orgasm washes over me.

It’s more than an orgasm. It’s a wrecking force and I’m being blown to pieces by it.

“Fucking beautiful,” he grunts as he throws me back down so my face meets the floor and he grabs me by the hair. “Now, you’re going to be real good for me so I can stuff you with my cum, baby.”

And then he fucks me on and on until I can’t take it anymore, until my gasps become inaudible and my moans fade into low ones.

That’s when he comes. All over my arse, then smears it on my thighs and back and everywhere he can reach.

He’s marking me, I realize. Every part of me.

“I knew you’d make a masterpiece, little rabbit.”

I stare at where he’s pointing through my blurry vision and my eyes widen when I see what I’ve sketched.

Through the blurry lines and harsh shadows, the subject is clear.

It’s us. Naked, joined, and absolutely terrifying.

And…we’re right, too.

“Yeah.” I smile through a haze. “Masterpiece.”

I’m about to fall, but he catches me and carries me in his arms. His lips meet my forehead and I’m a goner.

A lone tear slides down my cheek because I know that this type of obsessive and intense connection is the only thing he has to offer.

He’ll fuck me, catch me before I fall, and kiss my forehead, but he’ll never love me.

And I will always want him to.





33





ASTRID





An ominous dream wrenches me from a deep sleep.

I wake up drenched in sweat to find myself cocooned by a massive body.

My heartbeat slowly returns to normal as I stare up at my husband’s sleeping face and breathe him in.

Subconsciously, I reach out and stroke a few rebellious hairs away from his forehead. It’s such a shame that none of our children have this shade of bright blond, except for Glyn’s natural balayage.