I nodded and he sat back on his heels. His fingers went to his belt, unfastening it and slipping it from his waist. Instead of opening his pants, he lifted me to my feet and pressed me back against the railing. The belt came up around my waist, threaded through the bars, and cinched tightly above my hips.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, heart hammering.
He paused and the look in his eyes sent a deep shiver through me. Hunger, deep and desperate need, and a hot, raging fire. The hands that gripped my waist and bent me back were firm, controlled, but, my God, they were hot and desperate. Like he could scarcely control himself.
My body locked as my feet left the ground and a wave of pure terror washed over me. My fingers seized, flailing for anything to grip onto.
“Peregrine,” I cried out.
“I have you, Lia,” he breathed. “I won’t let you fall.”
The belt was tight around my waist and his grip was firm on my wrist and thigh. He pressed me back with steady pressure and I fought the urge to panic as my head and upper body flipped upside down. Hanging over the railing with five floors of spiral staircase and marble statues in a blur around my body. Panic washed through me in wave after wave and my heart pounded like a drum in the distance. There was a strange roaring in my ears.
The controlled Peregrine had flipped and now I was hanging at the mercy of a man I scarcely knew. This was the other side of his coin, the turning of his pages, the changing of his guards.
His hand left my thigh and I felt my skirt slide up and he slipped his middle and index fingers into my soaked heat. Pleasure rippled through my hips and I clenched around him, so slippery and wet I could hear it echo in the empty stairwell. Overhead was the mosaic ceiling and down below was death. And right here, suspended in space with him, was paradise surrounded by a beautiful devil and his angels.
His rough thumb grazed my clit, gathering my arousal, and working it as he stroked me with his fingers. I was ready, my hips were a knot of desperation, and he undid it with one expert flick of his thumb. The orgasm that tore through me opened my throat and I cried out, the sound splitting the stairwell like a gunshot. I forgot for a second to be afraid and I reveled in the roaring adrenaline, blending with my pleasure like a river surging through my body.
“Give it all to me,” he breathed. “I want to hear you scream like I’m about to let you fall.”
I panted, my throat tight.
“I’m the only thing between you and death, Lia. Come for me and I’ll be merciful.”
His grip tightened and I twisted in the air, panic moving through me. I knew how to stop this, but, God forgive me, I craved it. I caught a flash of his face above me and the hunger in his eyes burned to my core. No one had ever looked at me like that—like I was the most beautiful, desirable thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
And that was enough to break my resistance. I let my body fall limp, hanging from his arms. All the fight drained from my body. Without warning, he plunged into me, filling me with his heavy length until I broke with a harsh cry. Shattering like glass.
I was fully his in this moment. His to fuck, his to drop into the abyss. His to use for whatever he desired until he was satisfied. He was my god and I was nothing in his hands.
“You’re tight, you beautiful thing,” he gasped. “And you’re so fucking wet for me.”
I moaned softly into the darkness, completely given over to him. All around me were the dimly lit faces of his statues, pale and white silent guardians. They weren’t judgemental like the one in our bedroom. No, they were silent watchers, his guardians.
His grip tightened as he rammed into me, taking me with hard, powerful thrusts. Brutal and relentless. I felt the balance of his grip, bracing me between his cock and his hands. Keeping me right on the edge of destruction, right on the edge of paradise.
Without warning, my stomach tensed, and a blazing heat tore through my core. It was far more intense this time and lasted on and on until every coherent thought was wrung from my head.
“My God, that’s my good girl,” he breathed. “I love the way you come for me when you’re so scared and wet. Scream for me, fucking scream it all out.”
The cry that burst from my throat raised the hair on the back of my neck. He said something, but I couldn’t hear him, and then he was pounding into me. And there was nothing but him inside me and this intense, unbelievable euphoria.
He hauled me upright, wrapping both his arms around me and digging his hand into my hair. His eyes blazed and his mouth met mine as his tongue thrust between my teeth. The taste of him spread through my senses, like nothing I’d ever experienced before, something otherworldly. He was fucking my mouth and fucking my body and I was delirious and surrendered. High on his frantic touch and his intoxicating taste. Ruined for him.
He stiffened, thrusting in short, hard movements, and then he pulled back and buried his face against my neck. The groan that burst from his mouth came from the depths of him and he shuddered as he emptied himself inside me. My body jerked, pulsing and pulling him deeper into me. My God, this was ecstasy, this was true satisfaction.
This was whatever he was so desperately searching for in the basement of this house with marble dust on his hands.
Our bodies stilled, tangled together on the railing. Then he stirred and brushed my hair back. He undid the belt and I fell into his arms. He sank to his knees, still buried in me, and pulled me against his chest. Stroking my hair softly. My chest was raw and every nerve in me was weak and shaking, but I felt safe in his arms.
Like he hadn’t been the one who just dangled me over the stairwell and fucked me until I almost blacked out from sweet, terrifying ecstasy. He had gone from a malevolent god who threatened me with death to a kind one who pulled me close to his heart and soothed my terror.
He kissed my temple. “My sweet, wet, terrified girl.”
I pushed back, meeting his dilated eyes. “You’re fucking insane.”
That crooked smile broke his face.