Chapter Twelve #2
Byron’s fingers disappeared, replaced by the head of his cock.
“You’d better be fucking clean,” I snarled at him as he sank himself deep into me, my insides rearranging themselves to accommodate him.
He wrapped his fingers around my throat again and squeezed just enough to put pressure on my carotid.
“Of course I’m fucking clean,” he spat, his eyes wild. “As if I’d risk you like that.”
I blanched, but I wasn’t given a chance to wallow in it.
He began to move, and his pace was savage from the start.
I could do nothing but lie there and take it.
And it was a heady feeling. That I could make a man who outwardly appeared as cool as a fucking cucumber turn into this hungry, reckless creature driven by nothing more than pure, primal need.
His hips snapped against mine, making my cock bob against my stomach. I was so hard, and I was leaking pre-cum all over myself.
“Byron…” I begged. “Please…”
He huffed a breathy laugh. “Do you want to come, baby?”
“Yes. Please… I need it.” I didn’t care that I was begging. I was so far gone. Lost to the endorphins and the pain and to Byron Fucking Blake.
He leant forward and bit my earlobe, hard enough to pierce it. “Call me kitten, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Wh-what?”
Byron slowed down, rolling his hips in the most deliciously languid way, but it wasn’t enough. I whimpered. I was so close. So fucking close.
“You heard me,” he said with a grin that showed me he knew exactly what he was doing to me. This was fucking torture.
I licked my lips and swallowed my pride. “Kitten. Make me come.”
Byron hummed, and his eyes blew wide like he was high. “Hold on tight, baby. This is going to hurt.”
He thrust forward and hit my prostate with brutal fucking precision. I cried out, and my body jerked.
“That it?” he asked with a grin.
He snapped his hips forward again, and a ridiculously loud moan escaped my mouth.
“Yeah, baby. That’s it.”
He sounded so fucking pleased with himself.
Over and over, he hit my spot, but still, he didn’t touch my dick. I was so tightly wound tears were leaking down my face, and Byron licked up every one of them.
“Harder. I need it harder,” I pleaded.
“As you wish.”
Everything blurred, turned hazy. I was a mess of needy moans and desperate whines.
The pain in my ass as he pounded into me mixed with the pressure that he was putting on my neck and it was just enough to slow the oxygen going to my brain.
The edges of the world turned fuzzy, and just as I thought I was about to pass out, everything exploded.
My orgasm was ripped from me. A mix of pain and pleasure flooded my system, and, for just a few seconds, everything went dark. I blinked a few times as the world came back into focus.
And what a sight it was.
Byron’s head was thrown back on a silent scream, the cords of his neck pulled tight as his cum coated my insides. I could feel his dick throbbing deep inside me as he rolled his hips in tiny, aborted thrusts.
Jesus. Fuck.
The sight of Byron coming would be burnt into the back of my retinas forever.
Panic tainted the edges of the high my orgasm gave me as I realised how much I’d compromised myself.
I wanted him more than I was going to admit to myself, and it scared me that he’d break me in a way that would change me forever.
He pulled free from me and rolled over onto his back, his head resting on my right arm. “Damn, Wilder. That was more intense than I thought it would be.”
Ain’t that the truth?
My chest heaved as I dragged air into my lungs, and my mind raced as I went over what I’d just done. I’d just let Byron Blake, a known psychopath, fuck me to within an inch of my life, and I’d liked it.
Fuck, I think I liked Byron.
Behind that false smile and practiced facade was a man who was capable of murdering my father and not even feeling sorry about it.
He’d also go to extremes to keep me safe. I mean, the guy drugged me and tied me up in his room to keep me away from my other stalker. Because apparently, I had two.
Jesus. Was this really what my life had come to? That I was safer tied to a psychopath’s bed than on my own?
I looked over at Byron. His eyes were closed, and his face was relaxed.
He really was handsome, in a dark, edgy kind of way.
His jaw and cheekbones were sharp angles, and his mouth was a firm slash across his face.
His features were strong and bold, and I could see why he’d be an intimidating being to look at as he took your life with his bare hands.
“I can feel you staring at me,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes closed.
“Just trying to figure you out.”
His dark brows pinched quickly before relaxing again. “Well, if you do figure me out, let me know.”
I frowned at that. What did he mean? And why did I care? “Can you untie me, Byron? I’d like to use the bathroom to, you know, clean up.”
Byron’s face loomed over me again, his blue eyes bright and wild. “Sure thing, sugar.” His eyes dropped to my throat briefly. “I just hope you like your Christmas gift from me.”
My stomach dropped, and trepidation fluttered through my veins. “What the fuck have you done?”
“You’ll see,” he crooned, and all those thoughts of Byron being something other than a complete jackass disappeared.
“Untie me. Right the fuck now.”
He jumped from the bed, and I couldn’t even bring myself to appreciate the full force of seeing Byron completely naked.
The minute my arms were free, I ran in the direction Byron was pointing.
My legs were a bit unsteady after being in one position for so long, but I managed to stumble into the bathroom and turn on the light.
I blinked in the brightness, and it took a minute to focus on my reflection in the mirror.
Dark circles sat under my eyes, and instead of being a bright violet, they were dull and lacklustre. A sign that my magic was still trying to claw back to the surface.
There was a harsh bite mark on my shoulder, and hickeys all over my skin.
Holy hell.
Then my gaze dropped to my throat, and an anger like nothing I’d ever felt before erupted like lava in my veins. I was seething. No, I was beyond that. I was full of white-hot rage.
There, in solid black letters, was the word ‘BABY’. Just between the hollow of my throat and my Adam’s apple.
He’d tattooed my fucking neck whilst I’d been unconscious.
“You fucking asshole!” I yelled as I left the bathroom.
“Now, don’t get upset—”
“Upset?!” I was more than fucking upset. My magic sputtered in my veins as I locked eyes with Byron. His smile was wide, like he was enjoying my anger, like he wanted me to react this way. He really was crazy.
Sparks of purple lightning arced between my fingers as the drugs in my system finally started to wear off. I was nowhere near back to full strength, but I had enough to cause this asshole some serious damage. He was only human after all.
He darted to the other side of the bed, his movements graceful and lithe like a fucking cat.
“Before we begin to fight,” he said, his palms open wide and his legs braced for impact. “Can I just say this is the best fucking Christmas ever?”