I feel him shift, adjusting himself so his length slides lower, resting against me. The weight of him there makes my breath catch.
Shifting beneath him, I find enough space to spread my legs just a bit. His cock slides lower, settling perfectly between my thighs, the head nudging against my entrance. We both groan at the contact.
"Fuck," I breathe, feeling him hot and heavy against my pussy. He's so thick, the blunt head pressing against my folds without entering. Just there, teasing us both.
"You want it?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
"Yes," I hiss, trying to push back against him, but his weight keeps me pinned. "Please, Ramsey."
He rocks his hips slightly, sliding his cock through my wetness without pushing in. The friction against my sensitive clit makes me whimper.
Without warning, he thrusts forward, burying his cock in me with one powerful stroke. I cry out, my body stretching to accommodate his size.
"Fuck," he hisses against my ear, his chest pressed against my back.
He pulls back slowly before slamming in again, his hipsslapping against my ass. The force of it pushes me further up the bed, and I have to brace myself against the headboard.
"You know what I can't stop thinking about?" he growls, setting a brutal pace that has me seeing stars. His mouth is hot against my neck, teeth grazing my skin. "How fucking hot you looked bashing that bitch's head in."
The memory of Oli's blood on my hands flashes through my mind, and I clench around him involuntarily. He groans in response, his rhythm faltering for just a second.
"Yeah, you like that?" His voice drops even lower, each word punctuated by a thrust. "Watching you go fucking feral like that...Jesus Christ, Reese. It took everything in me not to bend you over right there."
I moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "You should have."
"Fuck," he snarls, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. "Wanted to yank those little leggings down and fuck you right there. With her blood still warm on your hands."
His words should horrify me, but instead, they send a fresh wave of arousal flooding through me. I'm so fucking wet that each thrust makes an obscene squelching sound.
"My little killer," he murmurs against the back of my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses there between words. "So fucking beautiful covered in blood. So fucking mine."
He shifts, angling his hips to hit that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. I cry out, fisting the sheets so hard myknuckles turn white.
"Right there," I gasp. "Oh god, Ramsey, right there."
"I know exactly where to touch you," he says, his voice smug even as it strains with effort. His hand slides resting right on my lower belly and holding me to him as he thrusts. "Been studying your body for years. Know every inch of you." His lips brush my ear, voice dropping to a whisper. "All those nights I'd pull up the camera feed to your room, watching you touch yourself just like this."
All I can do is moan, unable to form words to spill out of my mouth except his name and please. But fuck, he watches me. I always knew he was my phantom, that he had the ability to watch me. He’s got a fucking tracker in me, but the thought he invaded my bedroom, my little personal sanctuary should piss me off.
It doesn’t, all it makes me feel is loved, obsessed over. Like he needed to see me so badly he’d do anything and everything just to lay eyes on me even when he couldn’t have me. When he denied himself.
"When you slammed her head down," he continues, his breath hot against my ear, "and didn't stop...fuck, baby. The look in your eyes. Like you'd do anything for me."
"I would," I admit, the words torn from me. "Anything."
His hips slam into me harder. I can feel him everywhere—filling me, surrounding me, consuming me.
"You like it when I fuck you hard, don't you? Like it when it hurts a little?"
"Yes," I moan, the admission torn from my throat. "Fuck yes, I like it."
His hand comes down on my ass with a sharp crack thatmakes me yelp. The sting blooms across my skin, hot and electric, and my pussy clenches around him in response.
"That's what I fucking thought," he growls, sounding triumphant. "My little fucking killer likes a bit of pain with her pleasure."
He spanks me again, harder this time, and I cry out, pushing back against him, silently begging for more.
"You have no idea how much I fucking like that," Ramsey says, his voice rough as sandpaper. "Knowing I can hurt you a little and you'll just beg for more."
