Chapter 34 Come To Kill #2
The ridges scrape and drag against my sensitive walls with every thrust, slicking him in my desperate wetness. The room fills with the messy sounds of our bodies colliding, the squelch of blood and slickness pooling between my thighs and dripping onto the floor.
Oh fuck—right there—
My eyes roll into the back of my head. I fight to keep them open. To focus on my assailant.
Shadow snarls low, his claws raking down my ribs, dragging more shallow cuts through blood-soaked skin. His tentacles squeeze my breasts, pinch at my nipples until I cry out, twisting my pleasure sharper, darker.
Shadow isn't gentle.
The tentacle teasing my clit mercilessly, makes it impossible to move without rubbing into near unbearable pleasure.
I sob, my muscles seizing, my mind slipping sideways under the weight of so much brutal sensation. Tears spill down my cheeks as I whimper.
"You're close." His croon scrapes over my bones. "I can feel it. The way your pussy clenches every time he gasps."
I’m riding the edge of an orgasm that threatens to rip me into a thousand pieces.
Elijah twitches violently as a tentacle forces its way into his ear, blood bubbling from his nostrils.
Pity flickers inside me as I watch this man writhe before me while I’m being fucked out of my mind.
A flash of memory sears through me—
Elijah’s hand between my thighs, the knife pressing against my panties, the filthy leer on his face. His hand smacking my face. Him preparing to force his dick down my throat until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream.
Rage tears through me, giving me the strength to hold myself back from the inevitable edge just a little while longer.
One more thrust—
One more second—
One more tortured gasp from Elijah—
Shadow growls against my neck, feeling it, feeding on it.
"Hold it," he rasps, voice low and cruel. "Make him pay. Make him feel it for every girl he’s violated. I smell so many innocents on him. Make him pay for everything he would have done to you."
A sharp, wet crack draws my gaze downward.
Another tentacle has forced itself into Elijah’s nose, thick and dripping with slick darkness, tearing blood as it pushes deeper.
Another tendril writhes against his other ear, forcing itself inside with sickening pressure, blood trickling freely from both holes.
His body convulses, gurgling screams swallowed by the tentacle still throttling his throat.
More muffled cries come from the ceiling corner.
Blood drips from the corners of Elijah’s mouth, his eyes rolling white. He’s still conscious.
Shadow is making sure of it.
He wants Elijah to suffer every second I resist.
Shadow’s thrusts turn erratic, brutal. With a guttural snarl, he slams deep and comes inside me, flooding my walls with thick, hot pulses. My brain fuzzes with a different kind of pleasure—dizzy, primal, filthy.
I shudder around him, my body instinctively clenching to milk every last drop even as I refuse to let go.
His hips slow, grinding deep, but the tentacle at my clit keeps working, dragging cruel, relentless friction over my nerves.
I gasp, body locking, the promise of orgasm raking at my nerves—
Shadow's claws dig into my hips, dragging me tight against him. His mouth slants against my ear, a snarl and a dare all at once.
"Be the monster you claim to be. Let him drown while you drip and ache and suffer. Don't you dare give him mercy yet."
My legs quake as his cum leaks down my thighs. Another tentacle gathers our wetness, spreading it between my cheeks, coating the tight ring of muscle.
"Monsters don’t show mercy, Evie."
Then it forces its way in with a wet, vicious shove.
Stars explode behind my eyes. Shadow stays thick inside me, pulsing, unyielding, as if even release can’t blunt his need to ruin me. I feel the twin rub of his cock in my channel and tentacle in my rear through the thin wall.
The screams tearing from my throat are inhuman as I fight with all my might against the monster orgasm that threatens to crush my bones to dust.
I vaguely anticipate the angry pounding from next door as my neighbor shouts at me to keep it down.
I focus on Elijah's bulging, terrified eyes, and a wild, broken giggle rips from my throat as I realize why that won’t be happening.
He can’t call me a slut anymore.
I sob and scream, the noises ripping from my throat without control. Tears blur my vision as I ride Shadow harder, the squelch of wet flesh, the slither of tentacles between my legs, the bruising grip of his claws all blending into a symphony of brutal pleasure.
Mess and blood and cum dripping down my thighs, my skin fever-hot, stretched to the breaking point.
Shadow growls, slamming into me harder, fucking me up onto the tips of my toes.
"Hold it," he snarls against my throat. "Hold it back, little monster. How long would he have made you suffer?"
Far longer than I was going to last.
Every thrust, every rub, every wet, sucking noise from Elijah's bloodied, violated face drives me higher, higher, until I’m trembling on the absolute knife-edge of ruin.
Shadow’s cock drives up into me again and again, the ridges brutal against my tender, swollen walls, the thick slickness making every thrust wetter, filthier, louder.
My mind tears apart at the seams. Pleasure rips through me in wild, broken waves as my whole body locks, shakes, spasms around him.
Something in me unhooks —ancient and feral. This isn’t just climax. It’s an arrival.
And with my release, comes certain death.