Page 50 of Shattered In Darkness

God, holy fuck, I’d kill the world for her.

I work her harder, desperate, grinding my palm against her cunt through the shorts. It isn’t enough but it’s enough to make her shake.

I bite at her neck, just above her pulse. Not gentle. I want her marked, painted up so she thinks about me every time she showers. I suck, hard, tongue wet, enjoying the way she writhes.

Then I let go. I stop.

She whimpers, shudders, clutching at me, trying to clamp her thighs together. I don’t let her. I wedge a knee between her legs, and I kiss her. I kiss her until her lips bruise. She kisses back, shy at first, then desperate, all tongue and soft gasps.

Guiding her hand to my cock to make her feel the insane bulge there, she freezes. Eyes wide. A pretty panic.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You do whatever you want.”

She glides her palm over me through my jeans. I almost lose it. I jerk in her grip. She likes the effect, I can tell, because she bites her lip and does it again, this time harder.

Fuck. My vision whites out.

“You want to see it?”

“You’d probably break me.”

I smirk. “Not unless you beg, Bambi.”

Her cheeks are so red, I could burn my hands on them. She’s brave, though. She unzips me, just a little. Her fingertips graze my cock, cautious, tentative. I flex under her touch, desperate not to snarl.

God, those tiny hands. The way she shivers but won’t stop.

I watch her. Every micro-expression. Hunger flickers in her eyes, blue gone black at the center. She bites her lip. She’s thinking about it. My cock under her palm, heavy, dangerous. She strokes again. Knuckles pale and trembling.

My pulse thunders. I grab her wrist. Not hard, but enough. I want her to know I’m in control, always. She gives this tiny gasp, skin burning under my thumb.

“You’re playing with fire,” I whisper. I want to bury my mouth in her neck. “You know that, right?”

“Maybe I like the danger.”

She’s fucking perfect. Soft, shy, but not scared. Not of me.

I pull her closer. Bodies flush. I cup her cheek, force her to look up. Her mouth is cherry red, spit-glossed, open in anticipation.

She whispers, “What are you gonna do if I push you too far?”

Predator and prey. We both know which I am.

“I’ll ruin you,” I say. Honest. Dark. “But I’ll do it slowly.”

She melts at that. I kiss her, full force this time. Her mouth gives way, tongue tangling with mine, greedy, messier than before. My hand slides up her ribcage, feeling every stutter of breath. I want all of her. My palm skates over her tit, slow, gentle at first. Her nipple is hard already, perfect under my fingers.

I roll it, pinching. She moans into my mouth. The sound makes my cock lurch, desperate to be buried inside her, but I hold back. I want her to remember this after I leave. Every touch. Every bite.

She wraps her arms around my neck, legs spreading a little, welcoming. My thigh slots between hers. I grind, slowly, making her feel the size of me, the weight. Her hips arch, chasing more.

“You’re so wet.” My lips ghost her jaw, voice barely there. “It’s fucking unreal.”

She claws at my shirt, dragging me closer, greedy. She’s not pretending anymore. The way she moves is wild. I palm both her tits, hands covering her completely. Squeeze and knead until she whimpers. Collarbone to sternum, I map every inch of her.

Her hands are under my shirt now. Exploring. She traces the lines of my abs, nails biting into flesh, scratching her name into me. She kisses my neck, awkward at first, but learning. She leaves a wet, desperate mark just below my jaw.

I groan. The control slips. I grip her ass and flip us, hauling her up into my lap, forcing our bodies closer.