Silas blinked. “Pardon?” “I like pain,” she said, forcing herself to look into his eyes. “Spanking and whipping are good, but I prefer something a bit more… visceral.” “Meaning?” It took her several moments before she could get the words out. “Biting,” she said. “I love being bitten.” Silas went wholly still again—so suddenly, in fact, she wasn’t even sure he was breathing. But the red in his eyes burned so hot she could almost feel the Infernal fire dancing across her skin. “Biting,” he repeated, barely audible. Ivy nodded. “And scratching. Hair pulling.”
