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“Stop exploring,” he grunted into my mouth before bruising my sensitive lips with a smothering kiss. I gasped at the pain and pleasure while he kept up the furious speed of his thrusts.
“Why?” I breathed and dared to open my eyes, staring into his fuming orbs of pink. “Scared of what I’ll find in the dark?”
“You can’t handle all of me,” he seethed and kissed me. I had to hold my thought as I kissed him back, the two of us competing until we couldn’t stand the intensity unless we took another round of air.
Breaking the kiss to breathe, I replied, “You’re not frightened of that, dammit.”
He suddenly forced my legs wide without breaking eye contact, his strong arms going under my knees and further lifting my legs up so my whole body was being pressed into the glass.
My cry was pure arousal, his cock so deep inside me every movement and angle did wonders to my oversensitive being.
This man knew how I ticked, but it wasn’t enough for him. He was being greedy, and I realized I was just as needy to discover every part of him.
The good, the bad, the fucking ugly.
"You’re scared that I’ll accept you,” I heaved and groaned when he purposely stilled so his cock throbbed deep inside me. We were panting wildly, our eyes of fury locked in a stare that could destroy anything in its path if it were a weapon of destruction.
His anger flourished like a blossoming flower, but he couldn’t push me away this time.
We were so close to making something brilliant. So fucking close to delving into a wavelength that would aid us in exactly what we yearned for all these years. This wasn’t about accepting each other. We’d longed surpassed that.
This involved relying on each other in the heightened peak of our vulnerabilities that pushed us into this state of combative rivalry.
“You’d go crazy,” he muttered against my lips, and I knew from the way his eyes began to grow glassy that I was almost there. That he was beginning to crack at the immense pressure my acceptance would deliver.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I offered and whispered, “and I already have a crazy side, remember? She likes to be called Willa, and she has a hint of fascination for you.”
“I love you,” he muttered.
“I know that,” I teased. "Just as much as you hate me.”
That actually got him smiling before we were kissing passionately.
“You’ll be frightened of me.”
“I’m more frightened of my car going over a bridge than of the deliciously dark power you’re desperate to hide from me,” I stated with an eyeroll.
He held his tongue for a moment as his eyes softened just slightly. Clearly, the water pelting against his back wasn’t bothering him, even if it was as cold as ice.
“You’ll get lost in my chaos." His words were tender as his eyes sought for a single drop of disgust.
“And what better way of doing it than by being fucked by my Alpha who will destroy the world if he has to endure my death one more time,” I hummed and gathered the strength in my arms to release him and press my hands solely on his cheeks.
“I’m practically the devil, Willow,” he grumbled.
“Aww, you’re Lucifer? Maybe you and Saint can enjoy shots in hell and save me a cozy spot in between after I get us a pack of marshmallows,” I teased but closed the distance and kissed him softly. He wasn’t expecting my touch, his body flinching just slightly, but immediately relaxed as I deepened the kiss. “Why do you hate the darkness that forced you to face the light?”
My question made him teary-eyed while my own eyes began to grow glassy in return. "Because no matter how you see it, you can’t love what’s tainted and impure.”
“Says who?” My voice dipped as my thumbs moved along his cheek to wipe the first set of tears. “What if I love the darkness in you? What if I’m addicted to its protective anguish, possessive turmoil, and tender embrace?”
He couldn’t say a thing.
“Let me in, Dimitris,” I whispered, my heart aching to relieve his pain - to steal the self-hate and replace it with my love for him. “Let me enjoy you. All of you.”
He couldn’t deny me anymore. I knew it from the wave of power that flooded between us until I felt a burning sensation on my chest, right above my cleavage. There was no way to check what was transpiring because he kissed me long and hard before his tongue kept me hostage.
My moans restarted as he began to move. My arms moved back upon his shoulders while the two of us rode out the whirlpool of lust and sensations riddling our senses. The friction began to build, the intensity of this new connection making it impossible for us to hold back what would explode between us.
