It was just fucking, proffering herself as an object for his pleasure. And being extravagantly, acutely pleasured in return. It was as if she existed only to perform this act. There was something dehumanizing about that, a depersonalization.
She loved that, too.
Losing herself.
It was raw, animalistic, primal.
She didn’t want it ever to end.
He pulled out of her, relinquished her hair, and flipped her over. She spread her legs wide, and he climbed on top of her. She ground her teeth and ripped the flesh on his back with her nails as he reentered her.
His voice was hoarse. “Will you kill that black bitch for me, Dream?”
Her mouth opened wide.
She couldn’t say anything. She was entranced by the sight of his magnificently muscled torso looming above her. The way it looked, the pecs and biceps flexing as he moved against her, was beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
He stopped moving. “Answer me, Dream.”
She cleared mucus from her throat. “Yes.”
What?
How could she say such a thing, even during the altered state of consciousness induced by lust? It was awful. She was troubled, in a detached way, that he was even asking her such creepy questions. He couldn’t mean them literally. He had to know she would never hurt her friends. She knew, though, that some people got off in strange ways. Asphyxiation, for instance. Slapping. Biting. Bondage. This was just his version of that.
His kink.
She decided there was no harm in playing along.
He slid slowly in and out of her. His brow furrowed and his mouth twitched. She loved the way he groaned and twisted his neck. He was so turned on. Being able to do that to him thrilled her, heightened her own already elevated state of arousal.
“And what about the Asian slut?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes. His voice seemed far away. “Would you slit her throat, Dream?” His head arched back. “Would you drink her blood for me?”
She felt it coming.
Saw the muscles in his shoulders tensing.
Her eyes went wide with anticipation.
His voice was barely audible. “Say it, Dream.”
“Yes!” she cried. “I’d drink her blood.”
He opened his eyes.
And smiled.
Then his body spasmed against hers, rocking the bed, threatening to push her through the mattress. She locked her legs around him and held on for dear life. It went on far longer than any normal male orgasm should. When his body finally stopped pistoning and settled on top of her, she felt the way she imagined champion bull riders must feel at the end of a grueling tournament.
Her voice sounded frail when she said, “Oh my God.”
He rolled off her and beckoned her to the head of the bed. She felt weak, enervated, but she managed somehow, curling her small, toned body around his muscular frame. Their bodies meshed perfectly together, like two halves of a whole. Dream realized she was smiling. She knew why.
Who wouldn’t smile after having the best sex of their life?
It was true.
She had never felt this drained, this completely satisfied, or more inextricably linked to a partner. She didn’t think anything in her life had ever made her feel this good. No food, no emotional experience, no professional accomplishment-nothing. It was nice beyond words to finally feel fully alive, to not hurt, to not want to die. The suicidal impulses were quiet again, and she felt their absence like the lifting of a heavy physical burden. She suspected they were only lurking somewhere in a dark corner of her psyche, biding their time until she was vulnerable again, but that was okay. They wouldn’t trouble her while she was in the arms of this amazing man.
She traced a finger along the edge of his rib cage. “Mmm, I want to do that again. …”
He chuckled. “As you wish. …”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, shit, no, not now.”
He was smiling. “Why not?”
She sighed, her face flush with perfect contentment. “I don’t think I could survive another round of… that… so soon.” She kissed his chest. “You’re … my God, there’s no word for you … you’re like nothing else on earth.”
He laughed. “You’re right about that, Dream.”
Dream rolled her eyes. He had a healthy ego. Well, what else would she expect? Any man who could do the things he did had to be brimming with confidence. A lot of guys out there came on like God’s gift, but Ed here was the real deal. He knew it, too, which was sickening on one level, but also pretty thrilling.
She sprinkled his chest with soft, slow kisses. She was content for the moment to enjoy a period of serene afterglow. And what a wonderful place to wallow in postcoital bliss. The bed was massive, big enough for an orgy. The soft feather mattress was deliciously pliant under her, creating an illusion of being adrift on the open sea. A fire crackled in the fireplace, warming them and providing the room’s only illumination. The flickering flames looked far away, like a campfire on a distant shore. A marble bust of Alexander the Great sat on an ornate pedestal next to the fireplace. The spacious room was enormous, bigger than many luxury apartments in their entirety. As in the living room downstairs, bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes she supposed were ancient and valuable. The hardwood floor was dotted with throw rugs; they looked hand-loomed, the work of artisans of various ethnicities. French doors opened onto a long balcony, which overlooked a panorama of mountain and trees that would be beautiful by daylight.
It was just heavenly, a wondrous sanctuary from a coarse world.
She thought it might be very nice to stay here forever. The notion should have been alarming. How smart could it be to consider that level of commitment to a person she’d known only hours? She knew what Alicia’s answer to that would be.
Shit.
Thinking of Alicia was a jarring dose of reality. She’d managed to keep the memory of King’s kinky interrogation at bay for several minutes, but now the perverse words resonated in her head, making her skin crawl. She turned her head to gaze into King’s dark, soulful eyes. “Ed … can I make a request?”
He ran a hand through her hair. “Of course.”
Be like Alicia, she thought.
Get right to the point.
She sighed. “I loved everything you did to me. I loved surrendering my will to you, letting you have your way with me, and you can have me again any time you want, any way you want, as much as you want, but, please, don’t make me say that sick shit about my friends again. That was awful.”
A flicker of some indiscernible emotion passed over his face. “Was it?”
Dream nodded. “Yes. Hey, I don’t care what you’re into, Ed. Any kind of freaky shit you like, cool, go for it. I’m yours to do with as you wish.”
Hearing the words replay in her mind, she shuddered-yet she knew they were true.
She took a deep breath and continued. “I only ask that you leave my friends out of it, and that you not make me say things that offend my heart.”
His arms encircled her, drawing her closer. “Then I will honor your wishes. Your willingness to surrender yourself to me is humbling, but it is profoundly unnecessary. I don’t seek your submission.”
An odd flicker of disappointment made Dream frown. “You don’t?”
He smiled. “No. Quite the opposite. I’ll tell you something I believe, Dream. I believe your arrival here was no accident of fate. I believe destiny brought you here. Your destiny. My destiny.” He laid a hand upon her face and
