Dark Fairy Tales - Aleatha Romig Page 0,11

human. Which means he has human wants. Human needs.

He needs to be touched.

He needs this.

I lead him into my apartment and to my bedroom. A small, plain room, despite the nice mattress and the gold headboard. I turn to face him and strip off my little black dress, revealing a matching bra and panty set I got for tonight. Gold, of course. Satin.

He sucks in a breath. “You’re beautiful, Anita.”

He’s beautiful, too. And I’m going to show him how much.

Weeks ago, he bought the right to use my body. He touched me, but he didn’t ask me to touch him back. Why would you want to? he asked. He didn’t know that he was handsome or desirable. He didn’t know he was wanted, but I’m going to show him tonight.

I approach him, and he goes completely still. It’s like he’s bearing some torture as I take off his jacket. As I unbutton his shirt. He flinches when I reach for his belt. Then he’s standing naked in front of me, a gold-burnished man of muscle and flesh, his cock standing proud.

I put one finger to his chest, and he makes a grunt.

I trace down ridges of his abs.

His cock bobs up to meet me, and I wrap my fist around it. He makes a groan of pain and pleasure, his face twisted in agony. I thought I wouldn’t like to cause him pain, but this isn’t a normal kind of pain. This is hungry, and it makes me feel powerful.

Raoul pulls me back to the bed, reclining onto the mattress to catch my fall. He reaches back his muscular arms and grasps the gold columns on the headboard.

“Touch me,” he says, his voice hoarse.

I climb onto him with abandon, letting my skin slide along his, my legs straddling his narrow hips, my breasts pushing against his broad chest. My hands rest on his hard shoulders where he strains to keep holding onto the metal. His whole body shakes as if reverberating from a shock. I reach down and move the fabric of my panties aside. His cock notches into the place between my legs as if he was made for me.

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

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