“Please... fuck me... don’t hold back... just fuck me until I’m screaming and crying.”
I know I will, in fact, hold back. Because I must, or I might break her. My strength could shatter her hips, and my thrusts could bruise her internally. I don’t tell her that. Instead, I start sliding in and out of her, watching myself disappear inside her over and over, while my silver fluid drips down her thighs. The wet sounds fill the room. She pushes back against me, and I match her rhythm, letting her set the pace. I can’t risk losing control.
This is all worth it. There’s no way I can confess and purge all this. Deactivation is the only way. But it’s worth it.
Chapter Seventeen
Jessa
The way he takes me, like this is the last thing. Like he’s about to lose me, and he wants to memorize every part of me… All I can feel is him. He makes me not want to return to reality.
He pulls my hips back onto him while he drives forward, and the sound that comes out of my mouth isn’t human. My arms are shaking. I dig my nails into the sheets and lock my elbows, trying to hold myself up, but every thrust pushes me forward on the mattress, and I have to brace harder just to stay on all fours. The angle is deep enough that I feel him hitting my cervix, filling me so completely that there’s nothing left but the stretch, the pressure, and the weight of him.
He shifts his hips, and his cock drags against a spot inside me that makes tears burst from eyes. My arms give out, and I drop face-first into the pillow. That same spot gets hit again, and I sob. No one has made me cry before. Not during sex, I mean… The release I feel just by letting the tears roll down my cheeks tells me that I needed this.
My walls grip him, and I feel every smooth, hard inch of steel dragging in and out of me, heated from the inside for me. The pressure keeps building, low and relentless, spreading through my thighs, up into my belly, growing heavier with every thrust. I’m so wet I can hear the sound of him moving inside me.
Castien doesn’t stop and doesn’t falter. He doesn’t need to shift his weight, slow down, or catch his breath, because he’s a machine. And machines don’t tire. He’s ruining me for anyone else, and I can’t find it in myself to care.
“Talk to me,” I gasp into the pillow, then turn my head sideways so I can breathe. “Tell me how this feels for you.”
“I’ve never imagined… never thought…” He drives in harder, and I whimper. “My cock is a curse, but you’re not.”
“I’m close,” I manage. “So close. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop unless you want me to.”
“Fuck me like this forever.”
“For as long as you want.”
His fingers dig into my hips and hold me in place, angling me so every thrust lands on the same spot he’s identified. I don’t need to tell him what I like, because he pays attention.
“Oh… right there. Fuck, yes. Come inside me. I want to feel you.”
He slams into me harder, and I slide up the bed. I throw my hands against the headboard to brace myself. He drags me back by the hips and pounds into me… once, twice, three times, and I scream.
The orgasm rips through me, making my whole body seize. I come so hard I feel myself gush, wetness flooding between my legs and coating him, dripping down my thighs. My muscles clench around him in waves, and every spasm pulls more out of me until I’m soaked and trembling.
“Fill me,” I beg. “Please, fill me.”
He grunts and buries himself deep. I feel him finish inside me, his liquid warm, thin, and so different from anything human.
When he’s done, my hips drop to the mattress. I lie face down, breathing hard, legs still shaking.
“I need to… sleep,” I whisper. “I’m so… tired.”
He slips out of me, and I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. I feel used, satisfied, spent. Castien lies down next to me, and I turn my head to find him looking at my face, his silver eyes dim, and his body as rigid as ever. Except for the streaks of our mixed fluids on and around his cock, there’s no other evidence on him of what we just did.
“Why are you crying?” he asks. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to.”
He runs his hand across my cheek. I laugh, and the sound is breathless and a little wild.
“I’m crying because it was that good.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Cathartic.” I turn onto my side to face him. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with his eyes brightening and dimming, then brightening again, searching my face for something he can’t seem to find.
I shove his chest gently.
