The deep divots stemming from the corners of his eyes and the fucking dimples on his upper cheeks—I can’t.
I just… cannot do this anymore.
I’m on the verge of spontaneous combustion, and frankly, being the first real case in history is not the legacy I want to create for myself.
I use my elbows to drag myself out from beneath him again, needing to get the hell out of here, but he quickly grabs my hips and tugs me back down.
I gasp, stiffening in his hold as he roughly grips the waistband of my sweats and yanks them down my legs, taking my underwear with them.
My eyes widen. “No, no, absolutely not,” I rush out, desperately trying to pull them back up.
It’s embarrassing how easily he overpowers me, even more embarrassing when my legs just randomly stop functioning, allowing him to slide them off without so much as a toe wiggle.
Fucker.
Though, at this point, I don’t know who I’m directing the insult at—him or me.
A nervous sweat blooms across my nape, and my racing heart swan dives straight into my stomach the moment he crawls back over me. Only then does my body finally remember I'm supposed to be halfway out the door by now. I go to turn over onto my knees this time, hoping I’ll make progress that way, but I’m quickly proven wrong when he grabs my hips and twists me back around with an impatient growl.
In a matter of seconds, limbs fly, and though I try to resist whatever he’s doing, he moves too fast, too smoothly. Before I can process a single fucking thing, his hips are between my spread thighs, both wrists pinned above my head in one of his hands while the other shoves up my T-shirt, exposing my bare breasts.
“Dread!” I growl, my frustration mounting.
What the fuck is he, a vampire? I don't know how else he could've moved so goddamn fast. He only deepens my concerning theory when his teeth clamp around my hard nipple. The sharp pain wrenches a yelpfrom my throat, my spine flying into an arch, goosebumps scattering across my skin from the heady mix of pleasure and pain.
“Dread!” This time, his name sounds more like a hoarse moan than an admonishment.
Excitement blooms in my stomach, and I have no control over the shuddering exhale that follows or the way my eyes flutter as his tongue soothes the sting.
It’s absolutelypitifulhow easily I give in to him. I loathe it, yet my legs hook around his hips before I roll against his hard length nestled against my center. I'm just as much at war with myself as I am the pain and pleasure fighting for my attention.
He pulls away with a pop and sits up straight on his knees. I settle flat on the bed again and hastily scrape my wits back into a neat little pile so I can get my shit together and kick him in the mouth before I run for my life. Unfortunately, while I’m doing that, he quickly steps off the bed and toes off his shoes before removing his socks, sweatpants, and briefs.
Two seconds in, I freeze and my mind goes blank, completely forgetting what I was supposed to be doing. His hard cock has commanded my attention, and though it’s my third time seeing it, it still instills wariness in my bones.
He’s back on the bed and arranged between my thighs before I even blink again. Only then do I finally remember I'm supposed to be running—until he grabs the Fleshlight and lays it on my pelvis, effectively swiping an arm across my wit pile and sending it all flying again.
My mouth parts in confusion when he fixes the opening of the toy directly above my entrance. I frown, preparing to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but his fingers swiping up through my slit has a gasp shouldering past the words and rushing out instead.
“Dread,” I snap breathlessly.
“Jesus, Rev. You're so fucking sloppy,” he scolds, his tone sharp. It's like turning on the burner to a stove, and my entire face instantly becomes inflamed. “You're already close to soaking the bedsheets, and I've barely touched you.”
I inhale sharply when the tip of his middle finger lightly brushes across my clit, little zings of pleasure shooting through me.
“Fuck you,” I hiss. “I could cough on your dick, and it'd make you come.”
He chuckles wickedly, not appearing offended in the slightest. Then, his finger presses into my clit harder, and I jolt against him from the sharp pleasure shooting through me.
“You give yourself so little credit, darling,” he purrs. “The mere thought of you is all it takes. You don't even need to be in the same room to make me moan your name.”
My throat tightens, and I swear, him so readily agreeing with me is some reverse psychology shit. He has no goddamn shame, and somehow, him admitting to the power I wield makes me feel utterly powerless.
He could at least have the decency to deny it.
“I know how empty you are without me filling you,” he continues quietly. “I know how you ache for it.”
“No,” I deny. My lips part on a shuddering inhale when he applies a little more pressure on my clit, gently circling it until I’m unsure if the flashing electricity is in the air or in my vision.
