Pleasure coils, sharp and urgent.
I gasp against his mouth, grab his wide shoulders, and wrap my legs around his hips, locking my ankles behind his back.“Fuck me.”
He tears at his own jeans, shoving them down just enough.His cock springs free, thick and ready in his hand.He lines himself up.His eyes meet mine, bright, questioning, seeking permission even now after we’ve fucked every night since that first night.
My answer is a sharp bite on his lower lip.
He thrusts.
Deep, hard, and filling me in one stroke.The stretch is delicious, the friction perfect because he shoved my panties to the side, and the bunched fabric rubs against my clit.
He sets a punishing rhythm immediately, his hips snapping against mine, driving deep and withdrawing only to slam back home.Each thrust jolts me against the unyielding wood railing, the bite of it grounding me even as he threatens to unravel me.His hands grip my ass, his fingers digging in, lifting me slightly to take him deeper, to mold me to the brutal angle he wants.
His name tears from my throat.He buries his face in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.
He fucks me with a focused intensity, like he’s trying to exorcise his own demons by driving them into me.His hands grip my ass, lifting me, adjusting the angle, driving deeper and harder.Each thrust, each resulting stroke from panties over my clit, pushes a choked sound from me.Pleasure builds, a relentless pressure coiling tighter and tighter.
I claw my hands up under his jacket, my nails digging into his back.
“Sera…” he growls in response, a curse on his lips.His hips snap against mine, brutal and perfect.“Fuck…”
He sounds wrecked already.
One hand slides up my spine, tangles in my hair, fisting it.He tilts my head back, exposing my throat.His mouth descends, and his lips, teeth, and tongue claim the pulse point, the column of my neck.He sucks hard, leaving a brand I know will bloom purple by morning next to Shadow Daddy’s.A claim staked in bruised flesh.
The sharp sting mingles with the deep ache of him inside me, the relentless pressure building low in my belly.Pleasure coils, tight and urgent.I’m close, so close.The darkness, the rough wood, the cool air, the desperate, possessive fury of his thrusts overwhelms me.I tilt my hips, taking him deeper, grinding against both him and the rub of my panties.
His thrusts become more erratic, harder, deeper, hitting that spot inside me with unerring accuracy that makes me cry out.The sound is swallowed by the night, by his mouth crashing against mine again.The kiss is messy, desperate, flavored with shared breath and the coppery tang of blood—his lip, where I bit him.
He breaks the kiss, panting, his forehead pressed to mine.His eyes are wild blue pools reflecting the weak moonlight and something unleashed.
“Look at me,” he rasps.
I force my eyes open and meet his burning gaze.I see the war inside him—duty, decency, the law he serves, all crumbling under the weight of the raw, violent need I’ve pulled from his core.The need forme.For this darkness.
Seeing it shatters my own control.The coil snaps.Pleasure explodes, tearing through me in relentless waves.My body convulses around him, milking him, pulling him deeper into the vortex.My back arches off the railing, a silent scream locked in my throat as the world dissolves into pure, shattering sensation.
The Mind in my court sure can fuck.
He follows moments later.His body locks, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he buries himself deep and pulses inside me, filling me with not only his cum, but his surrender.
He collapses against me and kisses me roughly, his weight pinning me to the railing.We stay like that, still joined and tangled, the only sounds our harsh breaths, the frantic hammering of our hearts, and the distant rustle of dead leaves.
Slowly, the world bleeds back.The cool night air raises goose bumps on my overheated skin.The rough wood is a dull ache against my back.
Eddie leans away, and his eyes are dazed, unfocused, the gold almost swallowed by the black.He looks at me like I’m a revelation and a damnation rolled into one.Something he both fears and worships.
He pulls out slowly, the loss a sudden emptiness, and steps back, shoving himself back into his jeans.
When we finish dressing, the dazed hunger is gone, replaced by a bleak, hollow understanding, a chasm opened up inside him that he doesn’t know how to bridge.
“You’re going to destroy him,” he says finally.
His voice is low, rough, scraped raw by the violence of our fucking.
I tilt my head.“Which one?”
His jaw clenches as he looks away, out into the dark yard.The silence stretches, thick with the weight of what just happened.What he just surrendered to.What he just became.What I made him.
