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“There’s no stopping this,” he said, the words a low groan against the shell of my ear and moving right between my thighs. “It feels good to have me close, doesn't it? Yeah,” he said without letting me respond. “Yeah, it’s so good.”
I let out an exhale at the first sound of his voice and the reaction my body had to it. Nipples beaded achingly and pussy clenching tightly, so wet my inner thighs were slippery. I knew if we’d been in a silent room, he’d hear how obscene it sounded.
“I bet that’s how you taste.” His words were nothing more than a whisper. “So fucking sweet.” He ran his tongue along the shell of my ear again before biting the lobe hard enough a little cry of surprised pain—and pleasure—moved through me.
His voice was deeper than anything I’d ever heard, brushing over me as if it was a physical touch, as if his hand was right between my thighs and adding pressure.
“I bet you’re sweeter than sugar. I bet your pussy tastes like honey, so fucking saccharine my teeth will hurt.” He pulled back, his scruffy cheek brushing against mine until we were staring into each other's eyes again. “And I have one hell of a fucking sweet tooth, female.”
A little bit of confusion filled me at his choice of words, but that was dashed away when, with a husky groan, he slammed his mouth down on mine and kissed me thoroughly, so possessive. If he felt my inexperience, he didn’t let it show. And it was clear he wasn’t turned off by my lack of knowledge in all things sexual and affectionate with the opposite sex. Because his cock felt like it was getting harder by the second as he rolled his hips against me over and over again.
I rose up on my toes, found myself curling my hands around his impossibly thick biceps, my nails digging into his flesh, and let him take control.
And God did he take control.
The sounds coming from him should have terrified me, ones that didn’t sound human, were feral and unhinged. I felt a sting at the back of my head, realized his hand was tangled in my hair, his fingers pulling at the strands forcefully, and I moaned harder as that pain had my pleasure rising even more.
“You’re the sweetest fucking thing I’ll ever have in my life,” he murmured against my mouth and went right back to kissing me. “Yeah, just like that, Kayla.” I moaned again, and he groaned deeply. This pressure tingled against my subconscious, something that told me he’d said something that was off. But I felt too good to care about anything else.
“Just like that.”
And then there was flash of pain as he kissed me harder. I moaned in response, the pleasure going even higher, so high I never wanted to touch the ground again.
“You’re doing so good, aren't you? Yeah, yeah, baby, you’re doing so good.” He ran his tongue over my lips, first the top, then to the bottom before he plunged it inside my mouth. He licked and sucked, drawing my tongue into his own mouth before I felt another flash of pain as he sucked on the muscle.
“Mmm… I never knew,” he hummed in approval and gave my tongue one final suck before he had his mouth at my throat. “I never knew it would be like this, that my possessiveness would make me want to kill anyone who even looks at you.”
His words were like a flash of icy water on me, and I blinked myself back to reality, pushing the desire away until I could think rationally, consciously.
“No. Wait.” I was shocked the words spilled from my mouth, shocked even more that he actually listened and took a step back. But he wore a sardonic grin, as if he knew I didn’t really want him to stop.
He slowly ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and I was transfixed by the sight of that crimson being smeared along the full swell. “So. Fucking. Sweet. Like honey, my own personal honey made just for me.”
I lifted my trembling fingers and touched my mouth, where I felt the small wound. I touched my tongue then, feeling another small wound, the coppery taste now piercing through my consciousness.
Without thinking, my fingers were on the side of my throat, where I knew the twin puncture marks were healing on my flesh. I stared at him with what felt like wide eyes and a deer-caught-in-headlights look.
His grin became wider. “My mark looks good on you. So fucking good that I could come just from the knowledge you wear it like a brand.”
“W-What are you?” I said the words, but I didn’t know if I actually wanted to know. I was shaking my head but had no clue what I was trying to deny. Something was wrong.
