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I figured the actual fucking would be more satisfying, but I had no clue that it’d tread into unknown territory. I have good enough deduction skills to realize how much Glyndon turns me on without trying—still can’t pinpoint why exactly—but the attraction is undoubtedly there.
What I didn’t realize, however, is the level of release I could have with her. It’s similar to that first time I cut open the mice and saw what was inside them. It’s the thrill of possessing someone’s life between my fingers. Literally.
I could’ve snapped her fragile throat with a flick of my hand and sent her to a different universe. But instead of fighting as usual, she surrendered to it, and even came because of it.
Glyndon trusted me not to break her neck.
She shouldn’t have.
I don’t usually choke with my bare hands, because even I don’t trust my own strength or bloodlust. My demons could take over at any time and make me kill someone accidentally. And then there would be the hassle of hiding the crime and blah fucking blah.
Impulse control is my forte, but that wasn’t the case when I was inside this fucking girl. My impulse got out of control and I know because I contemplated choking her to death as she was falling apart on my cock.
But she did something.
Something I don’t usually allow, because it chips away at my control.
Glyndon, the seemingly innocent, absolutely clueless little rabbittouchedme.
Over and over.
And fucking over again.
She was hesitant at first, quivering like a frail leaf, but the moment I allowed her an inch, she became bold and took a mile.
Her palm was on my chest, my neck, and all over my face. She didn’t stop touching me as I kissed her, bit her lips, and tasted her blood.
She didn’t stop touching me, holding on to me, fucking injecting her venom into my veins until all I could breathe was her arousal and her motherfucking fruity perfume.
I release a long puff of smoke, tilting my head as she rolls to her back, her legs slightly parted. Her pink pussy is in full view, performing some wordless mojo to draw me close.
The thought of anyone but me seeing her in this position tightens my muscles with the need for violence.
My blood boils at the reminder of Gareth’s lips touching hers, slamming against hers, tasting hers before I had the chance to.
Maybe I should incapacitate him, after all, bring him down a notch. Or maybe I need to play on his useless pride and fragile fucking ego so that he won’t ponder touching what’s mine again.
The thought of violence spreads all over my system and I kill the cigarette, then slowly rise from my chair.
Now, I need to point out that the discomfort from my hard-on is a hassle, but I manage to repress the urge to ram into her cunt raw.
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t give a fuck—actually, I wouldn’t want them right after I fucked them anyway.
But for some reason, I don’t want to hurt her further…for now. She was begging me to slow down earlier, crying into the pillow and telling me in that sweet little voice of hers that she couldn’t take it anymore.
And while that turned me on and made her come more times than either of us can count, I probably pushed her beyond her limits.
I settle at the foot of the bed on my knees and grab her ankles, sliding her in my direction.
A low whine slips from her lips, but she doesn’t move as I throw her legs over each of my shoulders.
The pads of my fingers dig gently in the flesh of her legs, pushing them open before I lick her inner thigh.
I cleaned her up earlier. Again, something I don’t usually do, but I wanted to for her, yet there’s some of her dried blood. So I lick that up, too, my tongue feasting on the taste of her arousal.
The sight of my cum mixed with her juices fills me with a raging sense of possessiveness and I glide my way from her slit to the opening of her cunt.
Glyndon’s moans echo in the air, and small fingers thread in my hair. I lift my head, and sure enough, her eyes are still closed, but her tits rise and fall in an increased rhythm. The sight of her engorged pink nipples is enough to make me want to fuck them.
