The Color of Twilight

by Celeste Anwar

  "Did you think you'd get away so easily again? I'm not a fool as I once was,” he ground out, anger hot as he bit her earlobe.

  Pleasurable pain scored her lobe, danced across her nerves. Darcy gasped with it, moaned as his hands found her buttocks and pulled her to her tiptoes to grind her pelvis against his erection. It was huge, painful against her cleft but so good. She felt herself soaking her slight body stocking with want. She cursed the flimsiness of her covering, wished for more barrier, for less of his heat.

  He sucked her lobe, traced his tongue around the whorls of her ear, moved to her neck and lathed her as if she were a piece of candy. His hands kneaded the cheeks of her buttocks, squeezing her into him. He rubbed roughly against her cleft, urging the saturation of her arousal. Teeth scored her flesh, just to the point of pain.

  Darcy shuddered, biting her lip, shaking her head. She flattened her palms on his belly, felt him suck in a sharp breath as she touched him. The muscles contracted in surprise, shaking as though he could barely control himself. She pushed more, attempting to gain distance, succeeding only in separating her chest from his own by a few inches.

  He lifted his head, gazing down at her. The mask was gone, leaving her in no doubt of his intentions. He released her suddenly, and she slipped back, gasped in surprise, her balance saved only by his hands caught around her wrists. He moved them behind her back, transferred them to one mammoth hand as he traced the fingers of his free hand around her scooped neckline. He teased the edges, slipping one fingertip under it as he neared her cleavage.

  Her breathing increased, panicked. He watched her steadily, moving another finger inside, gripping the fragile fabric in a lazy hold. His nails felt unbearably cool against her fevered skin, like polished metal. He tugged suddenly at the neckline. Darcy jerked in surprise, unable to break his grip on her wrists. The rip was deafening in the silence. She felt air slice against the top of one breast, knew he meant to expose her completely to his view.

  He glanced down. Something skittered across his gaze. Slowly, his fingers drew feather-light across the top of one breast.

  Darcy flinched, unable to hide it. He looked up at her, his eyes stormy. “Don't do this. Someone will see,” she whispered, throwing herself upon his mercy. Deep inside, she was proud she'd held on to herself this long, when all she wanted was for him to touch her, mar her flesh with his suckling mouth.

  He twisted her closer, until her back arched deeply and her breasts were thrust forward, easily taken by his mouth. He rubbed a thumb against the peak of her near exposed breast. Her nipple hardened beneath his touch, ignoring her command not to respond. “Is this why you protest? I assure you, no one can. I've frosted the windows and sealed the doors with ice. Unless ... you would rather they see?"

  Darcy bit her bottom lip against the sensations gamboling through her breast. She shook her head, trying to gain her voice. “You know what I meant, my lord."

  "Do I? Why do you not call me by my name?"

  "I have not thought of you by that name for almost a decade, my lord."

  "You have not thought of me at all. Say my name, flamier do'me saol.” Flame of my soul.

  Her eyes burned at the endearment. She could feel tears bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. “I can't, my lord. You cannot force me to love you."

  "Then I will hear you call it in passion,” he ground out, ripping the stocking to her navel. Air on her skin shocked her. One hand delved into the torn opening, grasped one breast in a rough grip.

  She gasped, closing her eyes. “I will scream."

  "They can't hear you. The music is too loud,” he said with deadly coldness. Ice touched her nipple, making it pebble unbelievably hard. Touch of ice. He commanded the cold and the water. Some said he could suck the water out of any living being and control it with his magic.

  Darcy shuddered, unwanted pleasure blooming between her thighs. “It's rape if you take me now."

  "I'm your husband."

  "It changes nothing. Worse—you take unfair advantage of your spouse."

  His grip shifted to her arms. He shook her. His breath was harsh in the stillness, labored as if he'd been running. “Like you did with my trust?"

  "You're scaring me,” she whispered, feeling the heat leave her, replaced by fear. She wasn't afraid he'd hurt her, not that way. These changes in him terrified her. Could she have affected him so much?

  He thrust her away and growled in frustrated anger, a mournful sound that poured out from somewhere deep inside him. He turned away, his head hanging down, his shoulders shaking. “Leave me,” he said, his voice breaking.

  She'd broken him. The changes she'd seen, they were real, deeper. The wound in his soul echoed in her own. How much damage had she caused? Salt stung her eyes as tears welled. She hated herself and him. Pride would destroy them both. She couldn't leave him, not now. No matter how much she wanted to cower, to run from responsibility for her actions, she could not.

  "Go!” he yelled, turning around. Anger etched across his features. His black brows arched like the devil's own.

  "I can't."

  "You stay to torment me.” He grabbed her biceps in a punishing grip. She felt her flesh bruise and welcomed it. “Don't you know the edge you tread?"

  When she made no answer, he pulled her hard against him, as if he was starved for the contact of her body. His cock dug into her belly, his fingers dug deeper. “I could hurt you and enjoy it,” he whispered harshly

  Darcy rubbed her face against his neck in supplication and looked up at him. He closed his eyes as if in pain. “Stop this,” he whispered brokenly.

  She knew what she had to do. Only in complete control would he purge his wounds. She had to relinquish it to him, beg that he take her, use her in any way he saw fit. To be punished would be reward. Her muscles quivered, awash with weakness at the thought.

  "No, my lord,” she said, finally. She nuzzled the crook of his neck, nibbled his flesh. The birthmark that scrolled down the column of his throat tasted as pure as glacier ice, smelled of the tundra. It was his gift, and she could taste it on him, feel it in his muscles. Would that she had her own Fay gift, but her magic existed only in glamour.

  "I will break you,” he said with unflinching honesty.

  "Then will it so, my lord."

  As if unable to control himself any longer, he tipped her back and crushed his mouth against hers. His lips bruised with coaxing force. His body melded to her own, driving her need higher. Her tongue literally ached to feel his own, to feel the suckle of his mouth, taste the darkness inside him. Darcy parted her lips beneath his onslaught, reveled as his tongue thrust into her mouth, delving her crevices like a man starved. His body shuddered, his grip tightened as he tasted her. His chest rose and fell with heaving breaths as he devoured her.

  Darcy moaned into the kiss, moving against him. She was desperate to fill him, touch his markings, know the feel of his cock deep inside her. She wanted him to dominate her, bend her to his will. She wanted to relinquish control.

  He broke away from her mouth suddenly as if reading her thoughts. His eyes were dark with desire, like a storm on the edge of twilight. He released her only enough to shove his hand in the rip at her navel, down to her cunt. Darcy clenched at the sudden move, too shocked to do anything but feel his rough fingers play in her swollen folds, tease her slit. She groaned, jerking as his thumb rasped her clit. It perked with the touch, blood rushing from her head to that wet spot, leaving her dizzy with lust.

  "Say you want me, flamier,” he said, his voice a baritone so deep, she felt it vibrate in the muscles of her pussy. Fire licked her nerves as he roughly forced her legs apart, ripping her costume until it bared her cleft to him, leaving her vulnerable.

  "I want you,” she said, resisting the impulse to whimper, to beg him to cease his torture and fill her with his cock.

  He teased the opening of her vagina, smoothed the cream of her arousal through her folds, pushing inside her just enough her muscles quivered
in response. “Do you hurt for me?” he whispered against her neck, nipping her flesh with his teeth.

  She whimpered to feel his lips near her ear, to have his fingers so close, teasing her with the soft edges of pleasure. “Yes, my lord."

  He plunged two fingers deep inside her. Darcy screamed, coming onto the tips of her toes. A desperate plea erupted from her throat as her body convulsed around the drive of his fingers. “You are so hot. Your fire burns me,” he growled huskily. He retreated before she could climax, removing his fingers from her depths, ignoring her silent plead for him to continue.

  "Sit. Here,” Frost commanded, gesturing toward the edge of the pool. “Close your eyes. Do not open them until I give my permission. Do not speak unless spoken to."

  She did his bidding, sat on the lip of the fountain, closed her eyes. The stone felt cool against her bottom, seeped into her heated flesh. Excitement surged through her, made her breasts heave with each ragged breath. Anticipation heightened her senses. Her nipples throbbed with want, her ears perked for the slightest sound.

  "Spread your legs. More,” he demanded gruffly.

  She swallowed, hard, and parted her thighs. It wasn't enough. He grasped her knees in a firm grip and hauled her legs apart, spreading them further, stretching her nearly as far as she could go. She grasped the edge of the fountain to keep from losing her balance. The anticipation merged with a strange sort of fear that infused her blood. Her cunt lay vulnerable to him, completely open. Air licked her slick folds, slowly drying her lubrication.

  He was utterly silent. Her skin burned, flushed between her thighs. She could practically feel the probe of his interest there. She wanted to open her eyes but couldn't. Afraid one false move would break the fragile connection.

  Frost looked down at her, anger and desire seeping into him. He wanted to break her, as he'd been broken. Hurt her, as he'd been hurt. She was so damned proud, so unfeeling.

  He looked down at her. Pale pink flesh cut a swath down the center of her, the edges of her ragged garment accentuating the smoothness of her skin. Her markings were pale, a coral scroll that twined around her breasts like flowered vines, moved down her belly to her womanhood. It was naked, glistening with the proof of her arousal. Her lips were a deep coral, plumped by the probe of his fingers and her own excitement. He could smell the sweet scent of her cream.

  His cock throbbed painfully with each heartbeat, straining against his pants. It took all he could do not to rip the fly open and fuck her now, before she'd been punished, before he had a chance to lay bare her soul. He groaned inside, fire searing his groin like lancets. How easy it would be to press his advantage. She couldn't know how close to the edge he tread, how savage his intent.

  "Take off your mask,” he said, not recognizing his own voice, thick with lust.

  She reached up and pulled it off, baring her finely delicate face to his eyes. He wanted to see her eyes, open, glowing golden green with passion. But he couldn't bear the touch of her gaze on him. He felt shamed for the lust that could not be slaked, the lust that drove him insane with need.

  The coral markings scrolled around her eyes, slanted, making her appear as exotic as she truly was. How he longed to trace those lines with his tongue, travel the length of her body, until she screamed his name, until she was hoarse and could scream no more.

  He shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it to the ground, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, bent and removed his pants. He stood naked as the day he was born. His belly spasmed with his movements. His cock stood at attention, as if sensing his proximity to losing control. It throbbed with the need to ram, to force, to bury deep inside her. He took a shaky breath, knowing it was time to begin.

  Darcy slowly became aware the soft gurgle of the fountain had ceased. A current of energy slid over her skin, electrifying her senses. She heard something soft drop to the ground, like the rustle of clothing.

  Something cold touched her thigh, ice. She jerked involuntarily, surprised. It melted against the heat of her flesh, water trickling down her skin in a sensuous movement. She released a small gasp of surprise when he moved it closer to her apex, teasing her with its nearness.

  The cold made her shake, but didn't freeze and burn as normal ice. He'd done something, something she could scarce imagine....

  His mouth suddenly sucked the opposite thigh, molten heat that shocked her with its contrast to the ice. Her breath became thready with anticipation. Her lips parted to drag in air. Her body responded, arousal soaking her, despite her exposure.

  She lost her breath when his tongue suddenly swiped across her clit. He lapped at her pussy, swirling through her cream-laden slit, sucking at her clit until she was mindless with the heated ecstasy spreading from his tongue.

  He growled against her mound, nuzzling her clit with his nose as he rubbed that icy shaft against the opening of her vagina. Darcy flushed, kept from burning alive only by that cool rod, wanting to feel it quench the numbing fire threatening to eat her alive. She wanted to scream for him to finish it. He sucked her swollen bud until spasms wracked her pussy, making her muscles clench in an agony of desire unfulfilled.

  He leaned her slowly back until she rested on the wide lip of the pool, one knee in the air, her other foot on the ground. She sucked in a deep breath, her belly trembling, her body jerking with imagined and real touches.

  He moved that icy probe to her anus, continuing to lap her folds as he slid the tip in slowly.

  She clenched in surprise as he moved it around, stretching her, working her own cream into her back entrance. The muscles stretched, seared with cold and by the thick, foreign object. She wanted to tell him to stop, but the lust built as he moved the rod further inside her, until it rose to a pitch that had her silently begging for more. Small explosions rocketed her body, made her whimper deep in her throat. She'd never been so vulnerable before, never so much at his mercy.

  Her juices flowed in abundance, and he lapped them up, growling with supreme satisfaction. His tongue moved rapidly, ravenous, stoking that pitch, cooling the fever as he worked the rod inside her.

  He lifted her legs with rough, eager hands until they bent over his shoulders. He stabbed his tongue into her cunt as he slid the ice dildo deep in her rear.

  Darcy screamed. She arched, grinding her cunt on his face, clenching her hands on grass and stone as sweet agony ripped through her veins. Pleasure and pain lanced through her, riveted in her core, making her gasp for breath. Waves of lust licked at her from his penetration, the molten glide of his tongue, the frigid pressure at her rear. She bucked against him as he fucked her anus with the bite of cold and lapped at her pussy with liquid heat.

  His mouth moved from her entrance, dragged over her achy lips. Something prodded her core. More than ice, water. Hot, it scorched her, moving inside her vagina like a molten cock..

  She was stretched to overflowing, rammed deep in each opening. Her kegels quivered with unsated desire. She was too full even to breathe. And still he didn't stop. She didn't want him to stop. She needed to climax if she was to live.

  He lifted off her, pressed her knees wide, to her belly as his mouth sought her neglected breasts. Molten liquid rippled inside her, stroking her g-spot as ice delved her rear. His teeth scored one nipple, then another, dragging them to attention. They throbbed, lanced with pain and the pleasure of his mouth. He tugged one nipple with his lips, pulling her until lightning shot through her breast and spread to her belly.

  Darcy cried to have him, to have his magic inside her, as it should be. Rough waves built in her, higher and higher. Her body clenched with it, with the feeling coming so close, she could die.

  "You are mine,” he snarled soft against her breast, biting her almost to pain.

  The magic withdrew, leaving her empty. She cried out at the denial of bliss, the sudden loss. He growled with rough possessiveness and dragged his lips over the column of her throat.

  "I've hated you, wanted you. You drive me insane,” he gro
und out, hard on her breasts, pinching her nipples until they throbbed and her breasts grew heavy.

  He shifted, pressing down on her harder, her legs splayed, her knees high on her chest now. She had to gasp to breathe, assaulted on all senses, glorying in the feel of his weight bearing down on her.

  Her labia parted unaccustomedly wide. The broad head of his cock nudged against her vaginal opening, making her cunt tighten like a fist.

  "You are so hot, flamier. Will you burn me alive when I fill you?” Regret and heat filled his voice, rumbled in his chest. He shuddered against her, tense as if in pain.

  He pushed forward, the mushroomed head of his cock easing past the thin fold of skin at her entrance. “Too tight, sweet flamier,” he whispered in a tortured voice. “You will be the death of me."

  Darcy groaned as her delicate flesh stretched to encompass him. He was so much bigger than she'd imagined, so incredibly thick. It hurt to take him in—it hurt not to. Her body craved him like a drug, needed the unknown ecstasy of his stroke. He worked slowly inside, moving his engorged tip forward in torturously small increments.

  His breath grew ragged, matching her own. Sweat misted her skin as she fought the pain of his entrance, striving to embrace the pleasure so close to fulfillment. And still her cunt salivated for him, soaking them both to ease his passage.

  His pace threatened to drive her mad. She could take no more, needed the agony, the pleasure. She reached up, touched his face and brought him down to her lips.

  She kissed him, felt his shudder through her body as she thrust her tongue into his mouth and tasted his wildness. He groaned into her, sudden and hard, and pushed his cock inside, stretching, burning. Pain and pleasure knifed through her soft muscles as he sank to the hilt.

  Darcy screamed into his mouth, stretched to the limit and needing more. Incredibly, he moved deeper still, so thick, she could feel every vein, feel the hardened ridge of his cockhead buried inside her.

  She begged with her mouth, needing the drive of his cock in her, anything to make her feel one with him, anything to erase the emptiness. He forged a rigid path through her tightness. Her tender tissue parted with a forceful gush at his hard thrust.