and still my thrashing body. “Behave,” he shouts.
“Or what?” I laugh and then I let myself fall forward. He releases my neck to try and stop the fall, and I wiggle from beneath him, grinning even as I pant. This fighting is turning me on like nothing else, and I can feel his desire as well, mounting, wanting. “You will have to catch me if you want to fuck me, Griff.”
He lifts his head, crouched on the floor with his wings behind him, his eyes alight with power. He looks like a god and I catch my breath. “Then you better run, Vasculo,” he advises, his tone low and gravelly.
I stare at him for a moment longer before leaping up and racing towards the door, my feet slipping on the polished wood. I’m moving quickly, but it still isn’t fast enough. I hear the beat of his wings, the air crashing into me before he’s there.
I’m thrown into the door and it closes with a bang as he rips up my dress and presses my face to the gold surface. He kicks my legs apart while I laugh, his hands rough and mean. I hear the hiss of his zipper, loud in the room, as he frees his cock and I start to struggle—I need this too. I need to forget about my fear of what is to come, the dive into the unknown and the odds we’re taking on in just a few hours.
I need him, I need him to control me. To force me, to make me into nothing but a living, breathing pleasure vessel, his to do with as he wishes. This started all about him, but I guess what one needs...the other needs too.
We are twisted together that way.
I push back, using my hands on the door, my muscles straining, and he slams me forward again, making my breath whoosh from me as his mouth meets my ear. “Stop,” he snarls.
“Never,” I pant, and push back again, this time adding some power to it. He goes flying backwards, and I turn with a grin to see him getting to his feet. “That all you got, fallen? Going to let one little girl beat you?”
Sauntering towards him, I run my hand down my thigh, and he watches the movement. “Can’t even dominate your own mate?”
It unleashes something inside him. I see the moment he stops being Griffin, stops being worried about hurting me. He lets everything go until he’s just a feral fallen, his madness leaking into the room and infecting everything. It even sends a spike of fear through me for just a moment. He senses it, his nostrils flaring as he smirks—it only seems to spur him on.
I don’t see him move, he turns to mist and is gone. Turning, I gaze around the room, but I can’t see him.
“Boo,” he whispers in my ear, and when I spin he’s gone again.
Suddenly, I’m launched at the bed. I fly through the air and land on the soft edge of the silk and slip to the floor. I grunt as I’m pressed to the flooring, mist covering my entire body, and in that mist I spot his eyes. Moaning, I look down to see almost ghostly fingers tracing up my thighs and pushing them apart.
He wrenches them wide, sending pain through me as those ghostly fingers glide across my wet pussy, making me still as I stare into those floating orbs. “What were you saying?” he asks, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere.
“That you can’t even—” I end on a scream as those fingers suddenly turn corporeal and plunge into my pussy, stretching me around them as he fucks me with them with sharp, mean thrusts. He twists them, which has me bucking and lifting my hips. Needing more, needing him.
“Still, can’t,” I pant, mocking him.
He snarls and then his weight comes down on me, his body turning solid as those lips I love turn up into a snarl and he yanks his fingers free, wrapping them around my throat. He squeezes, harder than he ever has before, and for a moment, I see the flash of death written in his eyes—he will kill me.
He keeps me on that edge, my vision blurring, my ears ringing as my chest screams for air. I can’t even fight him, the energy is sucked from my body as he grabs my leg and throws it over his shoulder, and with one hard thrust, spears my pussy.
My mouth opens