Chapter 21 #2
I just want to stop feeling that… that shame of having something taken against your will. I want him to break the chain. Take back whatever control that creep still has over my body and mind.
Ares’s lips close in, and he doesn’t wait for permission—nor do I want him to. Just presses them against mine, claiming them with a long groan, his tongue seeking refuge inside my mouth without hesitation. Like it belongs there. Like he belongs with me.
I grunt from the brutal force, but it only makes him catch my wrists in one hand and pin them above my head. His other hand pushes down my ripped clothes, along with the blanket I used to cover myself.
There’s too much light, like everything is out in the open.
How broken I am.
How he’s a creature of darkness.
But it doesn’t stop my pulse from racing, the excitement gripping every cell in my body, like tiny sparks of something unknown meant to bring me back to life again.
Then, a sharp sting snaps me out of the delirium I was losing myself to. I look down to where the pain originated. It’s one of the places that bears the scars from the sanatorium.
I swallow hard, trying to say something, but no words come out. Just the sight of his fingertips stained with my blood. His nails are thick, closer to small claws than anything human.
And I recognize what he’s doing. He’s erasing him from me.
“More,” I almost beg, waiting for him to rip me to pieces if that’s what it takes to cure me of my memories... of my nightmares.
“Can’t rush it,” he snarls, words fighting their way out. “Won’t rush it. Just two a night,” he grunts, visibly displeased by the pain he’s causing, yet vibrating from claiming another piece of me.
“But I’ve got hundreds,” I whisper, hoping that he’ll keep his promise and make it all go away. I know it’s not real. He can’t cure me, but I need something to hold on to right now.
“Then we’ll have to do this every night for a while,” he whispers, his lips falling down my neck. His free hand cups my breasts until his lips join it—sucking and biting on my nipples, playing with my piercings—until the haze in my mind becomes something close to ecstasy.
I arch against the couch, his crotch now pressed even closer to mine, like only a few moments are keeping me apart from him.
Funny how I didn’t want him to touch me earlier, and now I want him to do whatever it takes to make me whole again.
I focus on him as he works his way down my body.
The piercings in his cock painfully obvious as he pulls me against him, mapping every inch of me with his lips, claiming it for himself.
Any doubt that he wants anything other than to give me pleasure fades.
This man is pleasure personified. Or maybe he’s just the devil, as he said it himself.
If that’s the case, then tonight, I want to learn what fire feels like.
He fists my panties in one rough motion, the sting of the side cords being ripped off, barely there as they disappear from between my legs, and his fingers rush to claim what he left untouched.
I fight to break free from his grip, thankfully he understands I’m not going anywhere. I’m just returning the favor, anchoring myself to the moment, not the past.
I rush to unzip his jeans, and the mission is more difficult than I suspected. The fabric digs into his skin like he’d grown a couple of sizes just in minutes. But as I go to explore further, I realize his jeans size isn’t the only thing that has increased.
My hands slide inside his boxers, reaching for his hard cock, but for a second, I almost pull away, trying to cope with the extreme girth.
He’ll have some explanations to give in the morning, but right now I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or scared. A little of both, maybe, only because this is more than any normal person should handle unless you’re in an R-rated movie.
And before I get a chance to say something, I feel him slipping inside me.
Okay, not exactly slipping. More like ruining me for any other man.
I guess that doesn’t even matter because I don’t plan on having any kind of life after this.
He claims me, painfully, inch by inch, piercing by piercing, and I don’t want him to stop until he’s all in, even if that might break me. I want him to keep his word and erase any trace of any other man—let him be the only monster who has me.
The low, hummed sounds echoing from his throat grow more intense.
Like, he can barely keep himself from turning full devil on me.
And I don’t fight him. I want him to do whatever it takes to ruin me in every way he wants.
Because tonight, I understood one thing—I’m his, in any form he takes.
Even if this won’t give us a happy ending.
Maybe I’m just as evil as he is, using him to try and break free from my past, when on the other side, I keep clinging to it, refusing to let Ezekiel get away with what he did.
My spine seems to be melting into the couch. All thoughts are narrowing to the relentless movement of his hips, his Jacob's ladder forging through my channel like it’s going to leave a permanent mark there.
I’ve never been a master at sex, but I’ve never been bad at it either. Still, right now, I’m as clumsy as it gets. My body is not responding to me anymore, overwhelmed by the outside stimulus—or to keep it short, his massive cock.
His weight isn’t something to be ignored, either, like he wants me to feel him on top of me. How insignificantly small I am compared to him. And how quickly he could break... or pleasure me.
It’s getting harder to breathe like he’s choking me without even touching my throat. Never knew you could get choked by someone’s cock, well at least not when it’s ravaging your vagina. Then, again, I never knew I’d be facing supernatural forces tonight. And I do mean supernatural.
But at least he was right. I am starting to feel him. Feel what he might do to me. The ways he might break me without truly harming me. And that’s when I realize he’s far more dangerous than Ezekiel.
Ezekiel might have control of my mind, maybe even my nightmares, but Ares is starting to gain control of my soul. And you might live with a broken mind, but you can’t live with a broken heart.
I still can’t fully grasp the fact that he’s some kind of unnatural being. I can’t even make peace with the thought that such things even exist. But the sensation is so real that I can’t deny it either.
His thrusts are so intense, they’re on the verge of leaving me senseless, or at least highly intoxicated by him.
Like he’s a drug I can’t detox from.
Maybe that’s what he did—took me off my hallucination meds and shot me full of the heroin feeling running through my veins.
It sure feels like it, like he’s infiltrating my senses, my system, every movement of his body meant to turn me into someone else.
Someone born from pleasure but forged by pain.
Someone who’s broken, but wholly independent, and still codependent on him. Someone that’s his.
The tiny sparks of pleasure build quickly into damn fireworks. It’s like New Year's Eve, and my body’s the sky they’re exploding on.
And someone spared no expense. The explosions inside my body are too strong to contain my nails from digging into his back.
My voice is already ragged from mumbling senseless words.
I don’t even know if I want to ask him for a small break or just keep going to test my limits.
To feel things, I’ve never felt before. Because one thing I’m certain of—if my body was broken, then he sure fixed it.
The only thing I’m worried about is that it would only respond to him from now on.
He knows I just hit my first orgasm. At this point, I think half the neighborhood probably does. And definitely all of his guards.
I heard him curse as I took him, wrapping myself around his cock like a damn anaconda, squeezing the life out of him to succumb. But of course, he wouldn’t give in so easily. Just pinned me tighter between him and the couch, thrusting so hard that the wooden board beneath us began to crack.
Not that it bothers him. Truth is, I don’t think he even heard it.
He can only hear my moans and the maddening sounds of his breath.
I watch his tattoos again, spinning in circles, like they’re trying to catch up with the rhythm of his body, telling a tale of how this man became a monster to cure me of my own.
Everything is so intense; I can’t take it anymore.
And just when I think the world around me is about to implode, I feel his fingernails digging into my hip, carving out another one of my scars.
A deeper one this time. One that makes me scream in both pain and happiness, reminding me once again what this is all about—trading one monster for another in hopes of finding peace with the man who only means chaos.
And I can’t stop a tear from running down my cheek.
It should be about everything that happened to me, but I guess it’s about a strange sense of relief.
I can’t explain it, yet his words seem to define it better than any story or dialogue ever could.
“I take your deepest fears upon myself. I will protect you from every one of them. Even from yourself, if I must. I’m the only monster who can fight yours because they’re powerful only in your imagination.
While I am an entity sworn to protect you.
No matter what.” He pulls his fingers from my thigh, and brings them to his lips, tasting my blood, another mark he left on me.
One that I cherish this time, like the others I hope will follow, helping me be cured of my beast, but not of him.
This will be my greatest curse: falling for a man… or a devil I’m destined to kill—or die trying.
Before I let the dark thoughts settle, he grabs my hair into a ponytail, yanking my head back against the couch.
My eyes struggle to close under the rush, but he pulls so hard it keeps them open.
Like he’s doing it on purpose, so I won’t miss the way his tongue travels my body.
His thick cock already working me toward another orgasm.
The sensation trails from the tip of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. It’s that intense, that unforgiving, that I might never get enough of it. Though right now I’m not sure how to handle it, especially as he rides me through my orgasm.
His fingers are locked on my clit, circling it like he’s hunting every moan and every tremble.
Until they become so loud, I start wishing they’d stop before his guards walk in, drawn by the unearthly noise.
But I can’t stop, I can’t muffle the sounds, so strained that I feel they don’t even belong to me.
My voice finally gives out. I think my body gives out as well, taken to bliss so many times, I’m sure I’ll never be whole again.
My breasts are aching as he twists one of my nipples between his fingers one last time, gently pulling on my piercing.
His teeth sink into my collarbone, marking that skin as well.
Over and over again, until I feel the hot spurts of his release filling me up, his body shuddering as he curses between his teeth, trying to steady his breath.
He slumps beside me, as spent as I am, while I’m still wondering what the hell happened to me. The places he marked hurt like hell, reminding me he’s the man who set me free.
I can barely keep my eyes open, watching the pool lights flicker in the dark while he pulls me close, covering me in his arms as we both find a peace we never knew we needed.