Page 90 of Lilies from Hell

“I’m not hungry. I want you, Alek.” Hearing that is all it takes for him to slam the refrigerator door shut, come over to me, and start a wild kiss in which he absorbs my every breath.

The dress ends up tearing in two in his hands when he starts planting wet kisses on my collarbone. Then he positions me on the countertop without taking his mouth away from my body. He stifles a gasp when I run my fingers inside his T-shirt to pull it off. When I feel his bulge rubbing against my folds, the moans become louder than before. He positions my body towards the center of the countertop as I unzip his pants.

He’s quicker than me at getting rid of them along with his boxers before getting between my legs. My nerves kick in, making me avoid looking down there. I don’t want to throw my confidence down the drain by remembering the size of… That. His teeth grab the skin on my stomach while he rips off my lace bra, tearing the back.

Soon it’s my nipples’ turn, and he slides his fingers inside my panties. His teeth continue to bite every bit of skin in front of him as he starts to slide his fingers inside me. When his mouth reaches my earlobe, the speed of his fingers increases until I’m hanging by a thread. Before the orgasm takes over, he stops and settles in better. My impatience won’t let me wait any longer, and I guide his length towards my entrance with trembling fingers. My panties are now somewhere on the floor.

I grit my teeth as I feel his glans enter a few centimeters next to his piercings. I am no longer a virgin, but the size is larger than the porcelain crucifix.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, alarmed, noticing the grimace on my face. I quickly shake my head, encouraging him to continue as our lips meet in a simple brush. I let out a gasp as I feel a sharp pain stretching my walls. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, intending to separate our bodies. Before he could do it, I stop him by wrapping my legs around his waist.

“It’s okay. Just go slowly.”

He kisses all over my face until he reaches my lips. The adoration in his eyes intensifies, giving them a unique sparkle as his length finally disappears inside me.

The pain is soon forgotten, giving way to a mixture of sensations that keep my vision blurred. His hips move in a series of gentle thrusts. His body fits so perfectly to mine that I can’t stop a couple of tears from sliding down my cheeks. He manages to catch them with his lips before they fall onto the countertop. The pleasure ends up clouding my mind until I can no longer hear our moans. The sound of our flesh colliding around us. My nails dig into his back as I try to keep my eyes open and focus on his gaze.

He picks up the pace and hides his face in my neck. I frown when I feel something warm and wet slide down to my collarbone, but the throbbing of his shaft and the incomprehensible words he mutters against my skin in a muffled voice distract me from worrying further.

“We didn’t use protection,” he whispers, still inside me, looking at me with eyes that remain as moist as before. He’s been crying, but why? Did I do something wrong?

“I’m sorry.” His words pull me out of my internal mortification.

“I’m on the pill,” I say, forcing a smile.

“Then we can keep playing a little longer,” he murmurs, leaving small bites on my jaw, and with that, the tension inside me fades away. “But from now on, I won’t be gentle with you.” His warning doesn’t bother me right now.

I hook my legs around his waist and let him carry me to a bedroom almost as large as the downstairs floor. It is lit by some scented candles and in the middle is the bed decorated with black petals. On the small table nearby are some objects that I can’t quite make out. My lips stretch into a smile as I realize that he had it all planned out, only we didn’t have enough patience to wait.

He lays me down on the soft mattress, his eyes once again sweeping over my naked body with that dark gaze. I’m not far behind, inspecting every inch of his skin, trying again to decipher some words tattooed around his body. I frown when he starts walking toward that little table and picks up some plush fabric handcuffs. He then carefully places them on me under my watchful gaze.

My eyes fall on his hand. This time my heart beats faster when I see the elegant knife, gold-plated with flowers carved into the handle. Then I focus on it, trying to remember where I’ve seen it before, until he comes closer, so close that we can share the same breath. I swallow hard, trying to calm myself, but his predatory gaze doesn’t help.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers in my ear as he runs the blade across my cheek.

It’s incredible that moments ago he was worried about not hurting me, and now he’s asking me that while holding a knife to my neck.

“Yes,” I say in a low voice. He moves back a few inches with a smile and a look I’ve never seen before. He seems like a whole different person.

“Good,” he replies, licking my neck, slowly savoring every inch of my skin. “Because I will make you hurt and bleed.”

That’s all he says before he starts planting wet kisses all over my body until he reaches my heels. I gasp when he runs the sharp edge across the skin of my stomach, reaching my navel without going too deep. Seeing the threads of blood sliding down onto the sheets, I pale a little.

He observes the crimson red stains with amazement. Then he runs his tongue over every trace of the reddish liquid, moaning hoarsely as he tastes it. He does the same thing again, this time cutting part of my inner thighs and bringing his face closer, sucking on the bloody skin. The burning sensation caused by his tongue on my recent cuts makes me press my lips together, stifling a moan as my folds throb with strange excitement.

The blade sinks back into my lower belly, the blood now flowing more freely, but it hasn’t been a very deep cut. He brings his bloodstained finger to my lips, caressing my lower lip with a demand that he doesn’t need to voice for me to understand. He presses his mouth against mine until there is not a single inch left, mixing the blood with our saliva. The burning sensation mixes with the pain every time he caresses the wounds.

When his nails graze the opening of one of them I squeeze my eyelids shut. The pain becoming more intense now, but even so, I find pleasure in how his fingers want to get into my wounds, as if he wanted to be under my skin.

“It feels so good,” he whispers on my lips in a rough voice.

I don't know what disturbs me more: what's happening to me, or the fact that I'm enjoying it as much or even more than he is. It’s as if a part of me that I didn’t know existed has been awakened. When he moves away, his lips are covered in blood. His hands and part of his torso are stained with the same. I didn’t realize when he grabbed a bottle in his hands with something that he then pours between my cheeks. The wounds are still bleeding, so the liquid ends up reddish in colour.

I stifle a scream when he thrusts all the way back into my aching core. His thrusts are neither slow nor gentle, stretching my already sore walls without caring if he could tear me in two. His two fingers penetrate my tight rear, making me scream in surprise and pain. He begins to move them inside me at the same pace he is using to break me open.

The line between pain and pleasure is so thin that I can barely distinguish between them. I tilt my head back when he pulls away only to see the head of his penis disappear into my rear entrance, but I don’t stop him. The effort he’s making not to go any further is reflected in the tension in his toned arms. That scares me, because I don’t know how far he might go if he ends up losing control.

He throws his head back, his face contorted with pleasure, pulling himself out very slowly and then thrusting back in with such force that I think this time he has broken something inside me. The spit he used to slick my skin slides down onto the sheets.