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“You walked over from East Veil?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ.” I flicked the kitchen light on. “Want a coffee?”
No response.
“Wasn’t expecting this,” I said, filling the kettle. “I thought you were staying at Vicki’s. I expected...”
I squealed as he slammed up behind, forcing me forward until I bashed into the running tap, cold water spraying over my shirt. The cotton clung like a second skin, cold and slick to my breasts as Callum’s hot breath stroked my ear. The shock broke through my wine coma, and I was wide awake, heart quickening.
“Need you.” His words were just a grunted whisper. “Now.”
This was the animal Callum, the savage who gave me shivers, the man who made my pussy ache on sight. I dropped the kettle in the sink, using my hands as leverage to grind back against him. I could feel his hard on swelling through his jeans, pulsing against the crack of my ass.
His rough hands on my tits, twisting my nipples through the fabric.
The cramps in my stomach reminded me of an unfortunate truth.
“Fuck, Callum,” I groaned. “I can’t.”
He wasn’t deterred, grabbing at my tits without restraint.
“Cal, stop. I’m on my period.”
He grunted, but still he persisted, reaching down to claw at the hem of my nightdress. He yanked it over my head before I could object. I cringed at the reality of him seeing my period panties. I tried to move from his grip but he was having none of it.
“Need you,” he growled. “Don’t fucking care.”
I cared. I cared a lot. I shifted against him, fighting my own desperation for his cock. His fingers pressed into the padding between my legs, hunting for my clit.
“Shit, Callum...”
“Gonna take you,” he said. “Don’t fight me.”
My throat let out a pitiful squeak of self-consciousness as his thumb hooked inside the waist of my panties. I trembled against him, hating myself for not fighting harder. I moaned out in defeat as his fingers slid between my thighs.“
“Fuck,” he said. “Feels so nice.”
Yes it did, he wasn’t fucking lying. He dropped to a crouch, low enough to slide the fabric down around my hips. My underwear dropped to the floor, and I was naked and exposed.
“Gonna fuck you,” he hissed.
Two fingers inside me made me groan like a whore. “Yes...”
“I wanna see you.”
I groaned, all out of words.
“Wanna see your cunt bleed. Need to smell you.”
Oh my fucking God.The squelching between my legs reeled my senses, but he felt too fucking good. I let him turn me, let him guide me, let him shunt me across the kitchen with his filthy wet hand between my thighs until we reached the bathroom doorway. I gasped at our reflection in the full-length mirror. My thighs were already dripping scarlet, bloody trails snaking their way to my ankles. His fingers squelched as he withdrew, an earthy metallic taint in the air as he clamped his bloodied hand across my tit.
I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my own body, squirming for just a moment as he clasped the same bloodied hand around my throat. Crimson smears across pale skin.
“So pretty,” he said. “I fucking like it.”
“Fuck me...” I breathed. “Do it.”
