The barest of brushes against her slit proves me right. She’s fucking sopping wet, and her slick arousal has my knees nearly crashing to the floor.
I close my eyes for a moment while I take a rake to my mind and desperately scrape up my control. But just like brittle, dead leaves, so much of it slips through the cracks, and a tortured groan releases from my throat.
She tries so hard to deny me, to reject that she feels anything other than contempt for me. But the truth pours from her weeping cunt, and she has no more control over the way it slips through my drenched fingers than the fucking dead leaves in my head.
She and I, we’re exactly the same.
Two people falling in love yet wanting to hate one another so badly, all we can do is relate.
My middle finger drifts over her clit and circles over it softly, just barely touching, but enough to further disrupt the flow of breath sawingin and out of her lungs.
“I’ve grown tired of listening to your lies,” I say, my voice soft yet wicked. “You can spread them over my cock instead.”
“Is that how it works?” she pants, the words steeped in anger. “Does that mean you’re fucking me with yours?”
My upper lip twitches as I shove my sweats and boxers down just enough to free myself. I’m so fucking swollen, it hurts, but I resist and slide the tip along her wet heat, relishing how, even when her mouth denies me, her body can’t.
“I’mnot the fucking liar of the two of us,” I growl.
Her spine arches, seeking me out even when she tries to distance herself from me.
“You’ve spent more than half of your life hating me and then suddenly expect me to believe you’ve stopped after a few fucks?” she bites out, her voice trembling. “You can make your comments about marrying me and getting me pregnant, but I know you, Dread. I know how much you want to break me, and what’s worse than breaking my heart?”
Something dark and ugly boils in the pit of my stomach. Maybe because I can only blame myself for making her feel that way, but also because it feels like she’s trampling all over me again. I hand her my broken pieces, and she throws them back in my face.
Bitterness coats my tongue as I line myself up and plunge inside her.
A loud, almost startled outcry bursts from her throat, and she quickly covers her mouth. Her rounded stare locks on to the alleyway below, and I know she’s teetering between the irrational panic because they’ve somehow heard her and the feel of my cock stretching her.
Meanwhile, I’m consumed by utter euphoria. It takes monumental effort to keep my eyes from crossing. I’d love nothing more than to close them and lose myself in her completely, but I refuse to risk anyone seeing her for even a second.
Gritting my teeth, I focus on the ground two stories below and clutch her hips in a bruising grip. I’m only halfway inside her, but her pussy is too little to take all of me at once.
“Did you forget where I come from?” I ask quietly.
Slowly, I drag out of her to the tip then slam inside her again, pushing deeper into her tight heat. Our synonymous moans fog the glass briefly, and the pleasure tightening my balls is sharp.
“Everything I am, and everything I’ve ever had, is broken,” I rasp,my voice hoarse. “I only wanted to break you because I never planned to keep you. But that’s changed now, darling. I don’t want to be invited into your heart just to live inside another broken home.”
A distressed whimper bleeds from her throat, and she shakes her head, unable to give a voice to whatever she’s feeling.
I work myself inside her in short, hard pumps while her staccato gasps and moans pitch higher the deeper I get. Then, I feel her inner walls give, allowing me to seat myself completely inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, suppressing the urge to come as furiously as a bursting pipe.
I’ve never met someone who makes it so goddamn impossible to stay both hard and soft. I can come just thinking about her, but within minutes, I’m ready to go again, only for the cycle to repeat.
She quivers around me, and her hips roll back against me. I withdraw slowly and slam back inside her in one, quick thrust.
“Oh, my God,” she rushes out, almost sounding panicked.
I don’t let her recover and repeat the motion over and over, earning curses and yelps every time. Gradually, her eyes flutter and her head tips back, losing herself to the acute sensation of each thrust.
With that simple action, she’s put all her trust in me not to let someone see her. No matter how much she fights me—how desperately she holds on to the vision of me as a monster—her body has already accepted me as hers, and there are no words for how fucking feral that makes me.
I continue to use her hip as an anchor with one hand, and with my left, I glide my palm up the column of her slim throat, urging her to rest her head back on my right shoulder, silently letting her know she can trust me.
I want nothing more than to use my mouth to explore down her neck, kissing and sucking every centimeter I can reach, but I won’t risk getting distracted when it could lead to such severe consequences.
