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He works himself, rolling his tongue over my clit and I imagine him inside me again, fucking me until I can’t see and filling me completely.
I need him inside me now.
God, I’m so fucking empty.
“Yes. You are. You’re so fucking empty, and you will stay that way until you admit you feel it,” he growls against my thigh, teeth marks indented against my flesh. “Tell me I’m not fucking crazy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Tell me I’m in your fucking head, like you’re in mine.” The head of his cock expands, and I picture taking it between my lips, pre-cum now gleaming along his tip.
He tugs harder, sucking me like his favorite lollipop, and I moan into the air.
“Tell me, London.”
“I…” My legs start to shake. “You’re …”
He groans, his body jerking, and I’m so fucking close.
I grind against his face and he growls into me. I jerk when I feel his teeth…no, his fangs come out to play, fear mixed with heat washes over me and I don’t know what I want to happen next.
“London.”
I swallow. “Feel what? You’re making no sense to me, I—”
His fingers bite into the flesh of my thighs as he stands to his full height, forcing me down the hood of the car and resting between my legs. He pumps himself slowly, his eyes staying on mine as his lip curls upward. “You wanna play that game?” The hand he’s using on himself flies to my throat and all air around me is cut. “’Cause I can play that game.”
I try to shake my head, tapping at his hand, but he doesn’t let up. Using his other hand, he directs the tip of his cock over my slit, slapping my pussy with his girth.
“Kni—”
He intensifies his grip, tilting his head to the side to study me closely.
“Such a fucking pointless little Giftless, huh?”
He lets up a little and I suck in a deep breath, hungry for oxygen but not enough to get myself out of this situation. He’s fucking crazy! He squeezes again just as his cock hits my entrance and my body tenses. No. I want to scream no! You’re not fucking having sex with me and all thoughts I had moments before don’t mean shit right now, but then he forces himself inside of me and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I feel myself tighten around his size, and then he retracts and a moan slips from my mouth. Goddammit.
“You’re worthless.” He thrusts inside of me again. Lowering himself to my mouth, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth. “I fucking hate you.”
“I hate you, too.” The hand that was on my throat comes to my jaw and he squeezes so hard my lips pop.
“Yeah? Then why the fuck am I here right now?” Thrust. “Fucking you.” Thrust. “Owning you.” He lowers his mouth and captures my tongue, his nose brushing against the bridge of my own. “Who do you belong to?”
My mouth slams closed as I lift my hips to meet his, desperate to be closer to him. I feel my heart pulse to a steady beat the longer the seconds go on. I need him. Everywhere. Right now. Sweat spills over my flesh, and nothing can be heard but the slow slapping of our bodies meeting.
He rests his forehead on mine, his lips grazing mine ever so softly, a breath, minimal break in his anger, but it comes right back.
“Gonna break you, Little London. Rip your fucking heart out and run my talons through the middle. Wanna know why?”
I feel myself treading close, so close to that dangerous cliff of euphoria. My body buzzes as heat rushes through my fingers, right down to my toes. His pelvis hits my clit and I lose it. My body explodes from beneath his grip as little colorful dots dance behind my eyes.
“Because. It’s. Fucking. Mine.” He pulls himself out as my body trembles from the orgasm tearing through me. He yanks me down so hard that I fall on my knees in front of him as he jerks his cock over my face. “Open.”
Shit. My mouth parts as I look up at him from damp lashes and hot cum shoots out onto my face.
Well shit.
With his head tilted back, I slowly rise to my feet, running my finger over my cheek and bringing my eyes to his as I suck my finger into my mouth. “You have the story twisted, lover. It seems I’m the one who lives in your head, not the other way around.”
His hand flies to my jaw again, and I watch as the anger that was just there slowly transforms into a dark smirk. It’s wicked. The kind you’d imagine the devil to give you right after you sign your soul away and he prepares to take his first bite.
