My thighs clench as I prepare to impale myself.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he says between gritted teeth.
I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts every single time, and judging by his massive size, it might. Because if it’s going to cause him any pain, I want to feel that, too.
So, I push myself down. There’s a tear, and I whimper. I push farther down—harder, harder, harder. His eyes widen, and he bares his teeth. I force myself all the way down until my thighs meet his hips. Pain rips through us. It resounds through his body like visible whiplash. And in that moment, I know we’re feeling the same thing.
With a roar, he releases the headboard and grabs my waist. He slams into me from beneath, once, twice. On the third time, a climax rushes through me in hard pulses, and he shouts to the ceiling. When the pleasure drags every ounce of strength from my body, I collapse onto his chest. We’re panting together, recovering together. Feeling the pain of it together.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice shaky.
“It hurts,” I say with wonder. I didn’t know love could hurt until him.
“I know.” He runs a hand through my hair, over my shoulder. My whole body’s draped over his like a blanket. I know it must hurt him, but he makes no move to push me away. “I know, sweetheart. It hurts. It hurts so damn good.”
Some people want a love that feels light as a feather.
Our love is twenty-four karat gold. It’s heavy and true. Veins run through us like bedrock. They hold us up through the months and years that follow.
It never really stops hurting. We love too much for that.
We hope you loved reading MIDAS’S TOUCH. This anthology is only the beginning of the Midnight Dynasty world. Find out what else happens at Tinsley's birthday celebration here... www.dangerouspress.com
And if you’re looking for more sexy, dangerous romance from Skye Warren, you can read Overture. Liam North got custody of the violin prodigy six years ago, but he still treats her like a child…
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Rumpelstiltskin
Celia Aaron
1
Lily
“He’s here.” I can feel it in the way my heart thumps, the tone of the music, the slight chill running down my spine.
“Who?” Graves, my date, asks.
“No one.” I shake my head as we enter the Constantine estate. Though I’ve been here before, it’s never looked quite so grand. “Tinsley is spoiled even worse than I was.” I marvel at the white and gold feather plumes, the crystals hanging from the ceiling in intricate webs, and the masked attendees swirling around us. He could be any one of them, though I’d never know. It’s not as if I’ve seen him. I don’t even know his name.
“Is everything okay?” Graves smiles at me with the perfect veneers. Everything about Graves Duverin is perfect, right down to his large trust fund. The one I’ve been after for months.
“I’m fine.” I put my clammy hand in his. That chill returns, a shiver slithering across my skin.
“Champagne.” We walk deeper into the foyer, music pumping from different rooms. I glance to the right and see they’ve done the parlor like an outdoor bird sanctuary, but one from Alice in Wonderland. The birds are huge and almost grotesque, but they too drip with jewels. Graves has money, but the Constantines have capital-M Money. Maybe I should’ve set my sights on one of them, but I’ve heard enough stories to steer clear. The Constantines are one wrong move away from being murdered by the Morellis. I have enough trouble in my life without constantly looking over my shoulder. The only one I’m worried about is him.
“Is that a new dress?” Graves hands me a glass of champagne. “I should’ve complimented you earlier, but Mumsy was being difficult.”
“It is.” I twirl, letting the silver sparkles and the short hemline catch his eye.
“Givenchy?” he asks.
“How did you know?”
“I know expensive things when I see them.” He wraps one arm around my waist and kisses me. It’s sloppy and wet. Graves always pregames before we go to any event. This time, though, he snorted something different. Not his usual coke binge. This is a downer, it would seem, but he’s happy.
I kiss him back, then he pulls away as someone walks up.
“Graves, that you?” a man asks.
“Todd?” Graves lifts his mask as does the other man. “Hey, man. Long time no see.” They shake hands and fall into a discussion of good times in college and fraternity days.
I drift away toward another room of this enormous Georgian estate. I’ve only been here once before, tagging along to a party that wasn’t quite this grand, so I don’t recall what this room would usually be. But now? Now it’s an emerald-green forest with a swath of stars across the ceiling for light.
A tiger surrounded by huge green leaves lounges in a large cage, its feline eyes flicking from person to person. This party is enormous, people everywhere. But the grounds are big enough that even with a host of guests, no area is overrun, no crowds overwhelm the space.
I walk to the cage and peer at the tiger. “You’re not the only one who’s trapped.”
“Trapped?” A low voice behind me has me standing up straight and trying to turn.
But large hands grip my hips hard and keep me in place. “Don’t turn around.” He pulls me back until I feel every hard inch of him.
That chill isn’t just along my spine anymore. My skin is covered in goosebumps as my mind screams an alarm. “Who—”
“You know who I am.” His voice is low, gravelly. “You’re wearing the dress I bought you, the necklace, too. Everything draped on this tight body belongs to me.”
“What do you want?” I swallow hard.
“I want what belongs to me.” He leans closer, his mouth at my ear. “I want everything that belongs to me.”
“I paid you what I owed.”
“You did.” He laughs low and sultry. “The camera in your bedroom has been very interesting to watch. But that only covered the introduction between you and Graves. You wanted more. You wanted to be one of them.”
“I know.” I press my palms to the cold metal cage as his large body shifts against mine. “I paid again.”
“You did.” He reaches down and runs one hand up my thigh.
The tiger looks on as I try to just breathe.
“Watching you come on camera was a treat, especially when you stopped worrying about me looking and your greedy little fingers stroked your clit as if no one could see.” His teeth graze my ear. “But I can promise you I saw you every time. Each time your tight cunt clenched with an orgasm, I came hard right along with you.”
“Please.” I fasten my eyes shut as an electric thrill begins to buzz between my thighs. I should deny him, should say I faked the orgasms so I could keep his gifts. But it wouldn’t be true. And he’d know. Somehow, he always knows what I’m going to do before I do it.
He toys with the hem of my dress. “Is your cunt already drenched for me?”