As she strained against him, pumping herself faster and faster, her frustration made her wild.
She bit him.
In the shoulder.
Scored him. With her nails.
The combination should have had him stopping and demanding more civilized behavior. Instead, with his blood flowing onto her, he let out a roar so mighty there was a crash in the room, as if it had rattled something off the wall.
Then he orgasmed. And thank the sweet Virgin Scribe for his release. As he jabbed into her and his erection kicked violently, she finally caught that elusive ride herself, her body rocking with him, the headboard banging.
Someone was shouting.
Her.
There was another crash.
The lamp. . . ?
When they finally stilled, she was soaking wet all over, throbbing between her legs, limp to the point of being boneless. One of the bedside lamps had indeed been knocked off its table, and as she looked across the way, she saw that the mirror over the bureau had cracked its glass.
Tohrment lifted his head and stared at her. In the light from the bathroom, she saw the damage to his shoulder.
"Oh. . . dearest. . . " She put a hand to her mouth in horror at the gaping wound. "I'm so sorry. "
He glanced at himself and frowned. "Are you kidding me?"
When he looked back at her, he was smiling with a male pride that made absolutely no sense at all.
"I have hurt you. " She wanted to cry. "I have - "
"Shh. " He brushed a damp strand away from her face. "I love it. I fucking love it. Scratch me. Dent me. Bite me - s'all good. "
"You are. . . nuts. " To use a colloquialism she'd picked up on.
"I'm not finished is what I am - " Except as he went to move in her, she winced.
Instantly, he froze. "Shit, that was pretty rough. "
"It was wonderful. "
Tohrment propped his great chest up on his arms and withdrew so slowly and carefully, she barely felt it. And yet she started cramping somewhere inside. Or maybe that was another orgasm? Hard to know, as her body was so o'errun with sensation.
Either way, the delicious wear and tear was a good thing. They were so familiar with each other now, so comfortable with mating, and the incredible intensity they achieved was a result of the lack of barriers, and the freedom. . . and the trust they shared.
"Let me run you a bath to clean you up in. "
"That's okay. " She smiled at him. "I'm just going to relax here while you take a shower. Then I'll do the same in a bit. "
In truth, she didn't trust herself to be naked in the bathroom with him. She was liable to bite him on the other side of his shoulders - and as much as she appreciated his carte blanche with the teeth, she would far prefer not to use the leeway.
Tohrment slid out of the mess of covers and stood over her for a moment, eyes narrowed. "You sure you're okay?"
"Promise. "
Eventually, he nodded and turned away -
"Your back!" He looked like he'd had cat claws in him, great streaks of red cutting down his torso and spine.