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The assassin's mark

Date: 10/24/2014, Categories: Seduction, Author: LibraryCat, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

was still lying in a tumbled mess of clothes. He was still for a moment, and then stretched out his arms on either side of himself. "Then do your worst." He was taunting her now. She pushed aside her vest and, never taking her eyes off him, seized the dagger that he had found first. She unsheathed it and kneeled before him, as utterly naked as he. She held the blade up before him and laid it deliberately across his arm. He did not flinch. She replaced the blade with tongue, teeth, and lips. She allowed the blade to fall to the ground as she kissed the inside of his arm, from his wrist to his elbow, from his elbow to his shoulder, and then to his neck. She slid around his body to kneel behind him. At his back, her body absorbed his heat. At his ribs, her hands caressed. At his neck, her mouth formed words. "But come. I have no desire to harm you." She pulled herself forward and pressed her body against him. "Let us forget," she whispered into his shoulder, "For now." By tomorrow's dawn, she intended to disappear and feign that she had not seen him. But for now she wanted to touch him. He did not want her. He repeated it in his head ... to block out what she was saying. Until she laid hands on him, he was strong. Until she gripped his erect manhood in her hands, he had resolve. He lost everything when she lifted a leg and allowed him to slide inside. He pulled her with him, kissing her so strongly he was sure she must break. He folded her legs around him and pushed her back against the wall. Supporting her with his hands, he thrust into her, hearing the noises she made. He used her as ruthlessly as she used him. When she came, her scream was so laden with sexuality, it induced his release. They subsided to the bed again to rest. She pushed all her discarded clothes off the bed and slid under the covers. He did the same and, after a moment, slid his arms around her. She turned in his arms and laid an arm over him, staking her claim to his body. He continued to kiss her, though he was exhausted. He had just felt an upheaval of everything. This woman had to be his now. She had left an indelible mark on his skin, a watercolor signature. He wondered if she would remember him if she refused him. For he knew he belonged to her now. All she had to do was agree to be his.