Chapter 30 #2
My heart’s going crazy, mind in disarray when her tongue pushes into my mouth, and she weaves her fingers into my hair, yanking me lower.
She’s all desperation, teeth, and the salty taste of tears.
“Millie, wait—”
She whacks my chest and breaks the kiss, more tears gathering in her eyes as she shoves me back. “Go away.”
“What? No.”
She shoves at me again, and again, quietly chanting “too much, too much” between broken sobs. I band one arm around her back, snatch her throat with the other, and kiss her hard.
Millie whimpers, a soft, broken sound I swallow. Every inch of my skin tingles with her proximity. The heat of her body, the scent of her arousal...
“You’re not too much,” I rasp, biting her lower lip. “You’re fucking perfect.”
I love and hate when she’s like this for me. Desperate, greedy, open in ways she’d never allow with words. Every restraint I have is gone, leaving me exposed in ways I’m not used to and don’t understand. It’s fucking unsettling and calming at once.
She needs this.
She wants this.
And I’ll give it to her.
But somewhere beneath the heat and the hunger, a colder thought creeps in... what if I push too hard? What if one day she stops looking at me like I’m everything she needs and starts looking at me the way everyone else does? The way I do...?
She clings to me, arms locked around my neck, every line of her body molding into mine. Dropping both hands to her round hips, I haul her up and slam her against the corridor wall.
We should move. We’re in plain sight. Anyone could catch us, but it’s two in the morning, and I can’t stop kissing her.
My teeth close around her lower lip. I pull it between us until she gasps, shuddering in my arms. Nothing’s ever felt this good, this right. She tugs my hair, yanking my head back and to the side, her whispered words ghosting my ear.
“Abby’s not here.”
“Thank fuck. I doubt we’d make it to my bed.”
She works her mouth into the crook of my neck as I secure her against me and open her room. We barely make it inside before I slam the door and Millie’s back hits another wall.
“We won’t make it to yours either,” I grit out, biting her jaw.
The pressure building at the base of my spine resonates outward, swallowing every instinct and leaving pure, feral want. My cock slots between her thighs, fitting perfectly. Her panties are soaked and it’s my turn to shudder.
“Eli...” she whispers. “Show me how much you hate me.”
“You really think that’s what this is? Hate?” I ask, my voice rougher than my touch. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be losing my fucking mind.” Over you. Every goddamn day.
She angles her hips, clings to me harder, her body demanding pleasure. I can’t think straight, consumed by one goal: get as deep inside her as I can.
I push my hand between us, thumb her panties aside, and thrust two fingers into her pussy, curling them just so. Millie arches with a gasp. Her eyes close, lips part, and her heartbeat hammers against my chest.
“Who are you this fucking wet for?” I ask, my mouth against her temple, every breath shorter.
“You,” she moans.
That should be enough, but I have every reason for jealousy and the green-eyed monster inside me paws at the dirt. Hyde’s words echo like a gunshot and Noah’s face flashes in my head.
“Yeah? What about Noah?”
“Just you,” she promises, tugging my hair and dragging my face back to kiss me.
“Did he touch you?”
“Did you touch her?” she shoots back.
“You want to know if I fucked Zara?” I pump my fingers inside her faster, obsessed with the way her body reacts each time I drag over her G-spot. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t even kiss her.”
Unlike you. You fucking kissed my best friend.
“Now answer the question, Millie,” I demand, eyes roving her face. “Did he touch you?”
“He held me while I cried.”
The words knock my heart into a stutter. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I drop my forehead to hers and for a second, I breathe her in. Relief mixes with self-loathing, but neither feeling has time to overpower this moment because Millie kisses me again and bites my lip so hard I taste my own blood.
“I need you,” she whispers.
Those three little words, the way she whimpers in my arms, how open and gorgeous she looks... it all wakes those feral, possessive urges.
She’s pliant, willing, mine to use. Only mine.
I’m the only man who’s ever touched her like this. She came on my cock, and now I know it was her first, I want more. Fucking everything. I want to watch her face as she breaks on my fingers and my tongue.
I want to be the first man she gags on.
Her orgasm builds fast. She’s close, her pussy clenching, begging for release, but I pull my digits out and lick them clean, holding Millie’s gaze.
Her lips curl into a silent oh, cheeks flushing bright pink “Do I—um, is it nice?”
“Don’t go shy on me now. Curious what you taste like?”
She doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t have to. I’ve had plenty of time to learn her gestures. The way her breath quickens when I’m near, the way her fingers spasm against me, how she presses into me harder, like she’s trying to crawl under my skin.
She doesn’t fully trust me with her words, but she trusts me with her body, and for now, I’ll take that and whatever scraps of sentences she thinks I deserve.
I kiss her again, pushing my tongue past her lips so she can taste herself. She doesn’t recoil like I expect, and my cock hardens further, leaking precum.
“You’re delicious,” I say. “Sugar, spice, and spring rain. Now get down on your knees.”
A small frown flickers between her brows, but she obeys, dropping before me, those fuck-me eyes looking up, her blonde hair in a braid over one shoulder. I run my thumb along her lip, pressing it into her teeth, heat blooming behind my ribs.
“I’m going to fuck that sweet mouth, and you’ll take it like a good girl. Got it?”
She nods, tracking my every move as I tug my sweats and boxers down. My cock springs out, the crown red and angry.
“Open,” I demand, grinding my teeth. “Tongue out.”
Once again, she does as she’s told and my knees damn near give out. I curl one hand around the back of her head, fisting her braid. The other hand wraps around my cock, guiding it to her lips, dragging the swollen head along her hot tongue.
“You’re mine to use right now,” I say. “Keep those gorgeous eyes up. I want to see what I’m doing to you.”
As soon as she nods, I snap my hips forward, gaze locked on her lips stretching. Fuck she’s breathtaking.
“There’s more,” I rasp, fingers flexing in her hair. “Relax your throat, baby.”
My thighs tense, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I feed her the last two inches.
“Good girl.”
I hold still for two seconds before I start fucking her in deep strokes, savoring the view, sick satisfaction surging through me when her eyes water. She gags, shuddering all over and I pause, pushing the next words past clenched teeth.
“Dig your nails into my thighs if it’s too much. I’ll stop.”
I hope she won’t. I need her to be okay.
She twirls her tongue around my cock and inches forward, those hooded eyes on mine, tears tracking down her cheeks.
Fuck, she really is messed up... and I love that about her. We’re both messed up in our own special ways.
I fuck her mouth the way I wish I could fuck every bad feeling out of her heart until there’s no room there for anything and anyone other than me.
My hips snap harder, pleasure firing up and down my legs. It’s perfect. It’s too much. It’s not enough. I’m splitting down the middle and loving the exquisite agony.
Millie moans, her fingers pressing into my thighs—no nails—greedy for more, but her tight throat, those tearful eyes, pink cheeks, and how vulnerable and powerful she looks at the same time has me hurtling toward orgasm faster than ever.
But I’m not ready for this to end.
I pull out before I come or black out from how tight my chest feels. Millie gasps, her lips swollen, a crease between her brows like she doesn’t understand why I stopped.
“If I come in your mouth, you’re not getting a turn,” I explain, my thumb brushing the corner of her lips. “I won’t leave you aching again. I want you to feel me for days, baby. Get up.”
As soon as she’s on her feet, I spin her to face the wall. Her breath stutters and she cheek-hugs the cold plaster. She’s shuddering softly, both palms braced at shoulder-level, thighs pressing together for friction.
I yank her dusty pink nightdress up over her waist. Hooking my fingers in the elastic of her panties, I take a knee, dragging them down her legs, and her pussy’s right there, the scent of her arousal filling my nose.
“Millie Baby...” I spread her open with my thumbs. “Fuck, look at you. Such a pretty girl.”
Digging my fingers into her hips hard enough to bruise her soft flesh, I swipe my tongue along her entrance, lapping up the sweetness and she gasps, clenching her thighs.
“First time again?” I ask, looking up in time to see her nod.
“Good. I want all your firsts.”
Not tonight, though. Tonight, she wants to be ruined. She wants the edge of pain dipped in pleasure.
She wants me, so Noah can go fuck himself.
She wants me, so that’s what she’ll get.
I’m done denying her. Us. Whatever she needs from me is hers as long as she wants it.
I kick her feet apart just enough for my cock to fit between her thighs. Our size difference makes this position damn near impossible, but I’ll make it work.
“You wanted the monster, baby?” I scrape my teeth along her ear, one hand between her thighs, the other cradling her throat. “He’s yours.” I’m yours. “Get on your toes. As high as you can.”
She obeys, and I stroke her clit, teasing that sensitive little button while my fingers apply enough pressure around her slender neck to leave her panting.
Her forehead thuds against the wall and her hips jut back, searching for my cock. I grab it by the hilt, stroking the crown through her slickness before lining up.
“No one else touches you. No one else fucks you.” I snap my hips forward, bottoming out inside her.
She cries out, her fingers shaking against the wall. “God, yes,” she whimpers. “Eli...”
The irony isn’t lost on me. When I’m trying to be good, fucking decent, I’m Creed. The guy everyone else associates with violence, blood, and the cage I fight in. The guy who loses control faster than he blinks...
But when I’m rough with her, I’m Eli. The guy who sometimes thinks he can remember his mother’s hugs. The guy who quietly hopes he deserves something good.
I cut off Millie’s air supply for a few seconds, fucking myself into her like a man possessed. There’s nothing soft about this. It’s hard and fast, the slap of skin on skin echoing between our ragged breaths, my grunts, and her titillating moans.
“I swear you were made just to drive me insane,” I say and bite her shoulder then lick the spot, soothing the sting.
She gasps, her hips bouncing off the wall with every thrust, but I don’t slow down. She sounds like she needs pain.
Maybe she does.
Maybe it helps her the same way throwing punches helps me.
The bruises I left last time are gone, and that won’t do. The monster Millie craves so much wants to leave marks, so I dip my head, sucking a hickey in the crook of her neck.
“It this what you want?” I ask, my voice like gravel, absolutely fucking wrecked. “Harder? Faster?”
“More,” she pleads.
I grab her hip, fingers digging in as I shift the angle, hitting deeper, chasing those broken whimpers.
“Come, baby,” I rasp, my jaw tight against her temple. “Show me this is what you need from me.”
She shudders, hips jerking back either seeking more still, or trying to escape the sweet torture I’m inflicting on her clit.
I can’t tell which. It doesn’t really matter.
“You’re close. Let go, Millie. Let go.”
A few more thrusts and she comes with a strangled cry, her spine arching, pussy spasming around my length so hard I almost spill right there. I bite my cheek, holding off, and spin her around before she’s done riding her high.
Lifting her with both my hands under her thighs, I press her into the wall.
Her head falls to my shoulder, arms circling my neck, and she’s kissing my pulse point, her mouth sloppy, body spent.
I bottom out again, fucking my sanity right out until I’m coming too, groaning into her neck, bruising her hips, my cock jerking as I fill her up.
The orgasm doesn’t seem to end, ropes of my cum shooting deep inside her for fucking ever.
When I finally still, breathing like I’ve run a marathon, I don’t pull out. She probably hopes I’ll get out of here fast, but she doesn’t get to dictate every rule.
My hold on her tightens, fingers pressing into her soft flesh, bruising her a bit more. I need a moment to catch my breath and fill my lungs with her. She smells like sex, perfume, and me.
If I could bottle that, I’d end up stalking Gravemont’s halls like a zombie, always inhaling, always high on her.
She plays with my hair, her nails scraping my scalp, drawing small, soothing circles. Every inch of my body tingles under her touch and for a while, it grounds me...
But reality seeps in, poisoning the moment.
Her bare thighs are locked around me, chest pressed to mine, skin sticky and burning hot. My cock’s still inside her, softening slowly, and her head rests on my shoulder, body mellow like she’s not far off falling asleep.
My throat tightens.
Here she is, comfortable, sweet, and mellow, acting like I haven’t just fucked her hard enough to leave her sore for days. I know this is what she wants. I fucking know, but...
But that’s now, while she’s clawing her way back to herself.
When she’s whole again, she won’t need the monster, and she won’t reach for me. I’ll be a chapter she outgrew. Something she needed to survive on her way to something better.
She’ll want soft and safe, and what I’m giving her now is exactly why that won’t be me.
I exhale a shaky, uneven breath, forcing myself to let go.
She’s tired, her eyes closed. I can’t feel her lashes ghosting my skin. Her feet hit the floor, and she sways a little as if she fell asleep in that short moment and doesn’t know where she is.
Her eyes are glazed, lips swollen, bliss painting her gorgeous face. I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging hard at the roots.
“You shouldn’t have let me in, baby. You should’ve kept me out, but you opened the door.” I press my forehead to hers, one arm braced against the wall over her head. “I’m not good for you, but you’re the one thing I can’t seem to quit.”
“Then don’t.”
“I couldn’t if I tried. Trust me, I checked.”
She smiles, her dainty fingers twirling the hair at the back of my skull. For a second, I consider staying, but she places her hand against my sternum, looking up with sleepy eyes.
“Goodnight, Eli.”
I don’t reply, too afraid something other than goodnight will come out.
I hate you for making me want you so badly that it’ll kill me when you no longer need this.