Chapter 11 #2
The heat emanating from her is so intense, I’m struggling to hold back. The only way I can maintain any sense of control is by grinding my cock against her hip.
“You’re simply wired for a different kind of pleasure.”
My fingertips cram into her entrance, just enough to stretch her open. She gasps, trying to go onto tiptoes, her free hand wrapping around my wrist again as if she wants to pull me away.
But she doesn’t.
She wants me to hurt her. She needs me to.
“Your cunt is begging for this,” I murmur against the shell of her ear. “Begging to be used. Begging to be fucked raw while you whine and sob about how wrong it is.”
“Please—” The word puffs out with a strangled breath. “I’m so close!”
“Can you feel how this wet hole of yours is making a fucking mess all over my fingers? Christ, you’re like a bitch in heat.”
A shudder goes through her.
It’s so violent, so erratic, I can instantly tell it’s not lust or pleasure.
It’s disgust.
“N-No,” she stammers through clenched teeth, her eyes flying open wide. There’s such hatred in them when she looks at me, it’s uncanny. “Don’t call m-m-me that. Ever.” The last is a deep, animalistic growl.
Pre-Haven Bastian Rooke would have pressed on that festering wound until she blacked out from the pain.
Yet I find myself hesitating.
Fucking hesitating.
“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” I mutter, breaking eye contact just long to nip her earlobe. “Slut. Whore.” I try to say it, but there’s a part of me that simply won’t allow it.
Fucking Good Wolf.
“Mine,” I growl into her ear as I push my fingertips deeper inside her.
She groans deep in the back of her throat as our fingers stretch her cunt. Her thighs slam closed and her nails dig into my wrist until I can feel the sting of her breaking the skin. But the coppery scent of my blood is barely a hint in the sex-infused, earthy miasma surrounding us.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, my twisted little deviant who gets off on being wanted so badly it destroys people?”
“F-fuck!” she splutters through a locked jaw. Now the hand on my wrist is urging me deeper and deeper inside her.
“How often do you fantasize about bending over my desk as I use you like the willing little fucktoy you are?”
“All—fuck!—all the fucking time—”
“And Kai’s watching us in these fantasies, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” she admits reluctantly.
“You make him wait his turn, don’t you? He has to wait until I’m done with you, because you want your cunt dripping with my cum when he fucks you.”
“Oh, God, I’m gonna come,” she whimpers.
“No, you’re not. Not until you admit what you are. Tell me, girl. Tell me!”
“I’m—“
She gasps, her hips rocking uselessly as she tries to get me to move our fingers inside her. But I just push deeper, stretching her obscenely, deliciously, painfully.
“What are you, Haven?”
“I’m a fucking monster!” she whispers furiously, her body starting to shiver violently. “I’m a sick, twisted, broken fucking slut!”
“Yes, you are.” I grab her jaw, forcing her head back as I shove my fingers as deep inside her as they can go. “But you’re my little slut. And my little slut does exactly as she’s told, doesn’t she?”
“Y-yes,” she stammers. “P-please. Yes!”
“Then come for me, my pretty little slut. Come for me right fucking now.”
I crush my mouth against hers, stealing her breath, her guttural moans, the sweet wetness of her mouth. When I widen my fingers inside her and pump them in and out just enough to provide her the friction she needs, I’m rewarded with a full-body convulsion.
Her cunt gushes over my fingers, her free hand finding the back of my neck, fingers digging into my scalp until her nails needle through the skin. Her hips buck and roll in a frenzy, and as much as I’m fighting for control…
I can’t.
I’m fucking undone by the sheer hedonistic ecstasy pouring off her.
I’m not even aware I’ve got my cock in my hand until I rip my fingers out of her cunt and slam home. The move is so sudden, so cruel, our mouths are jarred apart. A shocked gasp escapes her lips a second before my tongue is claiming her mouth again, just like my cock is filling her soaked cunt.
Leaves rustle above us as I ram deeper. I don’t recognize the sounds I’m making, because Christ, they sound as desperate and fucking needy as the ones she just made.
We’re panting against each other’s lips, Haven’s thighs clamping around my waist when I lift her against the trunk to get a better angle. Both her hands are in my hair now, twisting until the pain makes me see stars.
I grunt as I fuck her. She mewls like an injured animal.
But I don’t stop.
And I know from the way she bucks against me, she doesn’t want me to.
She comes a second time when I suck at her neck hard enough to taste blood.
I lean back and strum her clit with my fingers, watching my glistening cock slide into her drenched cunt as she rides out her orgasm.
She comes a third time when I spit down on her and grind my thumb against that engorged nerve.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpers. “Oh fuck, oh fuck—”
I empty into her while she’s still coming, my fingers leaving bruises on her hips where I dig them into her soft flesh. I slow my thrusts, mesmerized by the thick cream we churned up between us and the sound her cunt makes as it sucks so greedily on my cock, like she’s clenching to keep me inside.
My hand finds her throat. I drive home inside her one last time, staying buried, unmoving, as I put my mouth to her ear.
“Remember how hard you just came for me when I called you a slut,” I murmur. “How eager you were to obey.” I lean back, my hand tightening. “You will answer when I call.”
She watches me, shattered, not saying a word.
I slap her thigh hard enough to make her whimper. “Say it.”
“I—” She swallows. “I’ll answer when you call,” she whispers.
“That’s my good girl.”
I pull out of her.
Not because I want to—Christ, I want to stay buried inside her until my dying day—but because people will look for her. They might even come looking for her, and I don’t need them finding me here with my cock out.
She watches me make myself presentable, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, as if I put her in a trance. When I hand Haven her leggings, she just stares at them. She doesn’t resist when I slide them back up her legs. When I slip her boots back on her feet.
The only sound she makes when I shove my hand behind her waistband and into her still-drenched pussy is a soft, “Uh.”
I draw out fingers slick with our cum, and ease them into her mouth. She sucks without being asked to, and when I lean in for a languid kiss, I can taste both of us on her tongue.
She melts into me, soft and pliant and mine.
When we finally break apart, she’s swaying on her feet.
“Listen carefully,” I say, tilting her chin up so she has to look at me. “You’re going to go back out there—“
I speak right over her sound of her protest.
“If they ask, you tell them you don’t know anything. If they bring you in for questioning, ask for a lawyer, and don’t say a word. Do you understand?”
She nods silently.
“That’s my good girl.” I press one more kiss to her lips. “Now go.”
She stumbles back toward the library gardens on unsteady legs, and I watch her disappear through the trees.
The ambulance must have taken Melissa to Agony Memorial—both she and it are gone.
There’s a handful of stragglers in the garden, but only one girl seems to notice Haven, and she turns back to her friends after just one dismissive glance.
I’m surprised Deputy Thatcher isn’t hanging around, and even more surprised he didn’t come looking for Haven.
The most demented, reckless part of myself almost wanted him to find me here with her.
Thank Christ I have the self-control to keep that part of me well contained.
This dance is complex. I can’t fuck it up.
But when it’s over, Haven will have nowhere left to run except straight into my arms.
The part of me that hesitated back there—the part that couldn’t call her bitch because she’d told me not to—I’ll deal with that later.
When I can no longer smell her on my skin.
After I’ve forgotten how much it terrifies me.