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“No.” But the refusal comes out breathy, betraying how badly I want to kiss him again.
The bastard arches up, making me realize just how hard he is between my thighs, and that my wetness is coating his cock. He moves again and I choke him harder.
“Stop it,” I grit out.
“Do you really want me to, my Keri?”
Why does he keep calling me that? How and why does he even know my name at all? What does the name of a sacrifice mean to him? Does he need to call his meal by their name? The barrage of thoughts snaps me back to the reality of the situation harshly. I'm straddling the monster who's going to kill me. I just let the monster who will end me, eat me out. I came on his tongue. And here I am, wanting so much more.
What the hell was I thinking?
What the fuck am I doing?
He suddenly sits up, and I gasp at how close his eyes come to me. His face is right in mine, his other hand trailing down my back, claws ghosting along my spine. He moves his hips forward and his cock slides against me.
“St-stop,” I stammer out.
“I would…if you didn't want it so fucking badly.”
I can feel his breath ghosting across my cheek with each word. Then, his lips are there, soft against my skin, moving down until they're at my jaw.
“I can feel everything, Keri. Your pulse racing against my hand. Your chest crashing into mine with your heavy breaths. Your warm, wet pussy against my cock. I can even feel each time your opening tightens with how much you want me inside of you. I smell your arousal. Your desire. So, why now just give into me? Give in to what you want. What you need.”
“I can bring my fingers between my thighs and give myself something better than anything your cock can do for me.”
“Is that another challenge, my Keri?”
It is.
Why do I keep doing that?
Because I want to believe he's not in complete control of my body right now? Or because I so desperately want him to prove me wrong? Why do I want him to prove anything when what I know for certain is that I should not want this monster the way I do at all? I shouldn’t be imagining how he'll feel driving into me. I shouldn't be thinking about how much better his cock will feel than his tongue. I shouldn't be so sure that he can remove this unbearable ache within me.
Anger rushes through me, not just at the monster between my thighs, but at myself. All I've been through today, running with Leah to avoid this, making the bargain to save Leah's life, and finally hugging my sister goodbye for the last time…all of it, and here I am, wishing I could reach between us and put his cock to my opening.
I scream out, pushing on his neck until his lips leave my jaw, his hand falls from my throat, and a thud sounds out when he hits the ground again. He doesn't resist, and it confuses me and only angers me more. Why isn't he fighting me? Why doesn't he just kill me already? Get it over with, instead of toying with me, giving me pleasure when in the end, all he'll give me is brutality. I lean down, going as close to his eyes as I dare.
“You fucking bastard!” I shout in his face. “Just kill me already!”
“All I want to do right now is fuck you,” he says with so much calmly that I want to hurt him for it.
“You want to fuck me? And then what? Huh? You fuck me, and then kill me? Keep me here to fuck again and again?”
“Fuck me and find out.”
I narrow my eyes at him, reaching between us, even as I ask myself what the hell I'm doing. His eyes become a darker shade of red when I wrap my hand around his cock. I hope like hell that he doesn't notice the way my eyes widen when I feel just how large it is. It would take two of my hands to cover its length and my fingertips are just barely touching around his girth. This will never fit inside of me, but God, I want it to. I need it to.
No. No.
I should be trying to hurt him, let him feel my wrath at the fact I have to be here at all. I tighten my hand around him, squeezing, but he only groans, arching into my hold. The things that groan does to me. I feel a new wave of heat flood my pussy, and the tension pools at my clit, coiling. I blame both those feeling for the way I sit up and raise my hips some to be able to bring him to my opening.
I can feel how wet I am around the tip of him, my body begging for his cock. Even with him at my opening, the anger remains, but it’s turned into a rage now at wanting him. Still, my desire won't be denied, especially not when it's so close to getting what it wants. It’s anger that makes me slide down on him quick and hard, but it’s pain that makes me scream out.
A shuddering breath leaves me as I come to a stop before I've even slid down all of his cock. My mind can only think of how much his cock in me hurts. Stretching me beyond what my body feels it can handle. Filling me deeper than my body feels it can take, especially knowing there's more. Pain is my every thought, telling me to get up, to slide him out of me. I barely feel his hands come to my hips, his fingers gentle on me, not urging, more like…comforting? I don't need his comfort. Anger returns, demanding I finish sliding down on him, demanding I find some pleasure in return for betraying myself this way.
I slide down what can't even be another inch before pain flares in me again. My hands fly down to what I expected to be the ground, but I quickly realize is his chest, instead. His skin is smooth, moving with his quick breaths. I hate all of it, so I take my anger out on him. I dig my nails into his chest as I lower more on his cock. Pain be damned, I don't stop until my body meets his and every inch of him is inside of me. I pretend my pants aren't echoing and drag my nails down his chest. He hisses, but God, even that sound is sexy, turning me on even more.
He arches up and a high-pitched gasp bursts from me.
