“Why did you kiss me?”I ask him, no longer able to hold the question back.And yeah, maybe the reply will hurt me.Maybe he really will tell me it was just about making our marriage vows convincing.
But I think I need that hurt.I need to remind myself, over and over again, that Curse doesn’t love me.
But if I was hoping for bitterness, for derision, for something to send me spiralling away from him, I don’t get it.He drags a hand roughly down his face, as if trying to recalibrate somehow.And then, he says, “Because for the past two decades, I thought that killing people was the only thing left in this world that could make me feel alive.”His hand drops.So do his eyes – to my mouth.“But it’s not.”
“So you’re saying that kissing me is like killing?”
“No,” he replies on a low rasp.“I’m saying that it’s even more potent than that.Fucking devastating.Dangerous.”
“How is kissing me dangerous?”My fingers find his jaw.Brush his cheeks.Just the same way I did that day in Montreal, when he told me never to let it happen again.
He doesn’t say anything now.Just closes his eyes and stiffens.Stiffens everywhere.His cock is hard beneath the now-soaked fabric of his underwear.That unfamiliar feeling of desire, the need that only he can pull from me, quickens in my veins, clenches between my legs.I want to touch him so fucking badly.Feel the needy swell of him there.Even to put my mouth on him.
But for now, I put my mouth somewhere else.Rising up on the balls of my feet, I brush my lips over his.
And though it is featherlight, tentative, barely even there at all, he reacts like I’ve touched a live wire to his spine.Muscles bunch, and his hands slam to my hips, forcing me backwards until my back hits the steamed glass of the wall.
And then his tongue is in my mouth, plunging, devouring, his fingers digging in deep.I open my mouth wide for him, silently begging him not to stop, not to go, not to leave me again.It’s so stupid, and I know this neediness is coming from that little girl in my head.The one behind the glass walls.
But the adult Aurora is behind the glass walls right now, too.Literally.
And I’m not in here alone.
Curse shoves the hot rod of his cock against my belly.Will we consummate the marriage now?I know we need to have sex at least once more.My pussy throbs, still sore from last time.And still desperate for him.I feel slick and inflamed down there, and I want him in me, even though I know it’s going to hurt.
“Please,” I pant the word against his lips, his teeth, rubbing myself on him.“Please-”
“Stop fucking saying that word,” he hisses against my ear, my hair.“Don’t say, ‘please’ to me.And don’t say, ‘sorry,’ either.”His hand plunges between us, tugging at the waistband of his underwear until his cock, hard and reddened, is freed.The tip of it swirls over my belly as he rocks.Moaning, I stand on my tippy toes, desperately angling my hips forward, trying to get friction where I need it.To feel him against my clit.And then all the way inside.
But his merciless hand stamps itself across my pelvis, shoving until my ass is pressed against the wall once more.
“I’m not going to fuck you right now,” he grits out.“Not without a condom.There will be no more pharmacy runs in our future.No more Plan B.”
The whimper of complaint that I let loose in response to that should shame me, but I’m too far gone for that.Curse groans at the sound, keeping one hand splayed at my pelvis, the other rising to my throat, gripping just hard enough to make my next gasp feel choked and tight.He presses with both his hands now, forcing the back of my head and my ass harder against the wall.
“Do not make that fucking sound again.”
“I…I can’t help it.”It’s hard to speak with his fingers caging in my throat, my very voice.“It’s your fault!I’ve never…With anyone else…Never felt so…so…”
After a final, threatening squeeze, he releases my throat without warning, using that hand to grip his cock.His other hand remains on me, unyielding on my pelvis.Holding me with bruising force, he begins to violently jerk himself off.
“Yeah,” he rasps.“That makes fucking two of us.”
Two of us?
No way.He might be hard right now.He might give into lust he never expected with me.But there’s no way he feels like I do.No way he could understand this toxic longing, this desire that I know will one day doom me.
“Touch yourself,” he growls.He fists his cock harder.
“I don’t know how!”It’s true.I’ve tried in the past.Tried to reclaim that part of myself.Tried to wring some pleasure out of my own flesh instead of sinking into old memories.But it never worked.It never made me feel anything besides a numb sort of nausea.
“Yes you do.”His teeth are at my throat.“Stroke yourself.Nice and hard.The same places that I licked you yesterday.”
His words make my clit pulse so hard that I don’t even need to listen to the meaning in them.My own body is demanding pressure, screaming for it.When I succumb to need, to his command, and find my clit with trembling fingers, my entire being lights up in response.This is nothing like trying to touch myself when I’m alone.Nothing.
“There you are,” Curse says, his voice throaty with a sneering sort of satisfaction.“There’s my angel.My only fucking angel.”
My touches feel clumsy and strange against my own flesh, but with Curse with me in here, I’m already close to coming.I’m right there, banging on the door of that release.But for some reason, I can’t quite get through it on my own.I whimper again, loud and needy, even though he told me not to.
