Page 19

“Fuck it,” I say in Cantonese, caressing his face with both hands and place my lips roughly against his. He groans in my mouth, and I lose every sense of restraint while he struggles with me with desperate pleading eyes. I’m eating him, licking, biting, and sucking on those plump lips. He can barely breathe while I attack him with my tongue. He hits me with his fists against my chest, and I growl, loving the pain. I kiss his top lip and move on to the bottom sucking hard. His back comes off the wall, and I hum low and deep the second I feel his erection pressing against my thigh. Pulling back, he smiles all shy at me, that turns into a scowl. I probably look like a man possessed as I grab his hair, holding him in place as I take what I want while he pants in my mouth, not stopping my relentless rhythm against his lips by biting on my tongue as I expected. The way his hand envelopes my arm and his fingertips dig in my skin tells me a part of him likes what I’m doing, while he’s trying to push me away at the same time.

“That’s it,” I groan. He’s sweeter than I thought he would be. Those little mms and moans are so endearing. I push my hips against his, and he gasps against my lips that already feel bruised and swollen.

“M-moon,” he stutters as I grab his narrow waist forcing him to arch into me. I can feel his legs tremble as I thrust into him. I want him to know how hard he makes me. How much I’ve needed him. How much I didn’t know I missed him.

His lips slowly part on a sigh while I push my tongue inside his mouth, the surprised sound making my dick throb. I need to take it slow before I lose all control and pull down his pants, turn him around, and push him with his front against the wall to slip myself inside. He makes a sound of protest when I pull back. I chuckle, capturing his chin to lick a path up his neck, stopping at his ear. He pushes me back and I stumble a little.

“I said stop!” he yells. “Don’t, Moon, I don’t understand what…” His voice trails off as he watches me as I wipe at my mouth trying to catch my breath. His eyes slide over my chest and up to my lips and eyes while he presses a hand to his chest like he’s trying to calm himself.

“I’m not stopping. Come here,” I warn and grab his neck.

He looks up at me with a defiant stare while his chest rapidly moves up and down. “Stop.” He draws his fist back like he wants to hit me in the jaw. I take his wrist, slamming it against the wall. He doesn’t flinch but watches me intently like he’s trying to push me and see how far I’ll take it, take him. The joke’s on him; I’ll take it to the end. I’ll be his end, until there’s nothing left but us. Hungrily I devour his mouth, and he bites on my lip. I can taste my own blood, turning me on to the point of delirium.

“Don’t cross the line,” I tell him, my hand still holding onto his neck.

“Don’t draw it then,” he replies, his pupils are dilated and wild, while his chest heaves. His eyes run over my face, and I watch his mouth open a little, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and I know he can taste my blood on his too. He closes his eyes on a deep moan and licks at the red spot I left on the right side of his top lip.

“Fuck, little psycho.” I reach below, adjusting the front of my pants.

His breathing turns ragged. “Don’t call me that,” he warns, his eyes trailing down my black dress shirt and I bite on the inside of my cheek watching as he runs the tips of his fingers over the three-piece buttons.

“Would you prefer little miāo miāo?” I taunt as he bares his teeth at me like a feral cat. He pushes my suit jacket aside, and I cock my head. “If you want to use my guns, I have two strapped under my arms and one in the back of my pants. So, you can take your pick.”

“You came prepared,” he says, slowly running his trembling fingers over my shoulders. I can feel his hesitation, only adding to the thrill. He swallows hard and looks down between us at the bulge in my pants almost making contact with his stomach.

I look down too; I’ve never been this hard in my life. I exhale through my nose. I can’t wait anymore, I need him, I can’t breathe. Without warning, I turn him around and press his front against the concrete wall. “I’m taking responsibility.”

Ten years ago, Shanghai

Moon and Eliot

“Why me? Why now? And what responsibility?” he asks, sounding so insecure as I push his palms against the wall trapping him. My poor bǎobèi, everything is going to be alright. I’m here now.

I frown. “What do you mean?” I ask, letting go of his wrists. His arms drop to the side as he lets me run my hand through his long hair, down his face, to his neck. I drape an arm across his chest and cup his cheek, waiting for him to continue as my thumb brushes over his bottom lip.

He swallows hard as he leans back into me, like he’s debating to ask the question burning on his tongue. “Is it because I was sold to you? Are you finally taking what’s yours?” he asks, leaning back into my touch, softly brushing his lips against the pad of my finger. He’s still trembling. I know he’s fighting his inner demons; little does he know that the real demon is standing right behind him.

I let go of his jaw and squeeze his neck. His eyelids grow heavy with need, or is it fear, anger, or both?

“Moon,” he whines drawing me close to him with his right hand, his fingers digging into my ass. I grab hold of his thick thigh and angle my erection against his ass. I swear to god I can feel his asshole throbbing for me. I turn him around again, manhandling to look him in the eyes, and he doesn’t put up a fight. I wish he would, but I can see the defiance reflected in his eyes as he looks up at me. He’s testing how far he can take it.

Grinning, I push my groin against him. I want to show him how hard he makes me. He lets out a strangled cry as he softly bites on his bottom lip. “Moon, stop it,” he pleads, pushing at my chest, but I don’t budge as I shove my hips forward, grinding myself into him. “Stop it, please, I can’t,” he moans, but the way he’s moving his hips into me tells me a different story. The way his fists press against my body like he wants to keep me close makes my chest swell with undeniable possessiveness.

I let my fingers slide along his inner thigh and he shivers from the contact. Groaning my name, he caresses my cheek. He lets go like my skin burned his palm and I grab the back of his head, pulling hard on his hair.

“You belong to me now,” I say, the words coming out strained.

He drops his leg he draped over my ass. I already hate not being close to him. Not already being inside him. I want to disappear and come alive in every hole of his body. Every inch of his skin is mine.

His eyes are wide and he’s shaking. “I don’t belong to anyone,” he dares to say, dares to question my words.

I grab his neck and push him back against the concrete, cutting off his oxygen.

“Your father sold you, so you do in fact belong to me,” I tell him, raising my voice so he knows there’s no room for discussion.

His eyes widen and his breathing stops. “Y-you really b-bought me when I was thirteen?”

I hate myself for what I’m about to say which will seal the deal his father made with the devil. But I need to let El know there’s no one besides me who’s going to get all his firsts, that night with Yuki in the karaoke room doesn’t count. “Yes,” I bark and his eyes bulge. “You only do this with me. When I want it, where I want it, no questions asked, got that?” I growl out through my teeth, shoving him back against the wall. “I own you from the day you set foot on this compound.”