Chapter 37 #2
"You know what I can't stop thinking about?" he growls, setting a brutal pace that has me seeing stars. His mouth is hot against my neck, teeth grazing my skin. "How fucking hot you looked bashing that bitch's head in."
The memory of Oli's blood on my hands flashes through my mind, and I clench around him involuntarily. He groans in response, his rhythm faltering for just a second.
"Yeah, you like that?" His voice drops even lower, each word punctuated by a thrust. "Watching you go fucking feral like that...Jesus Christ, Reese. It took everything in me not to bend you over right there."
I moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "You should have."
"Fuck," he snarls, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. "Wanted to yank those little leggings down and fuck you right there. With her blood still warm on your hands."
His words should horrify me, but instead, they send a fresh wave of arousal flooding through me. I'm so fucking wet that each thrust makes an obscene squelching sound.
"My little killer," he murmurs against the back of my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses there between words. "So fucking beautiful covered in blood. So fucking mine."
He shifts, angling his hips to hit that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. I cry out, fisting the sheets so hard my knuckles turn white.
"Right there," I gasp. "Oh god, Ramsey, right there."
"I know exactly where to touch you," he says, his voice smug even as it strains with effort.
His hand slides resting right on my lower belly and holding me to him as he thrusts.
"Been studying your body for years. Know every inch of you.
" His lips brush my ear, voice dropping to a whisper.
"All those nights I'd pull up the camera feed to your room, watching you touch yourself just like this. "
All I can do is moan, unable to form words to spill out of my mouth except his name and please.
But fuck, he watches me. I always knew he was my phantom, that he had the ability to watch me.
He’s got a fucking tracker in me, but the thought he invaded my bedroom, my little personal sanctuary should piss me off.
It doesn’t, all it makes me feel is loved, obsessed over. Like he needed to see me so badly he’d do anything and everything just to lay eyes on me even when he couldn’t have me. When he denied himself.
"When you slammed her head down," he continues, his breath hot against my ear, "and didn't stop...fuck, baby. The look in your eyes. Like you'd do anything for me."
"I would," I admit, the words torn from me. "Anything."
His hips slam into me harder. I can feel him everywhere—filling me, surrounding me, consuming me.
"You like it when I fuck you hard, don't you? Like it when it hurts a little?"
"Yes," I moan, the admission torn from my throat. "Fuck yes, I like it."
His hand comes down on my ass with a sharp crack that makes me yelp. The sting blooms across my skin, hot and electric, and my pussy clenches around him in response.
"That's what I fucking thought," he growls, sounding triumphant. "My little fucking killer likes a bit of pain with her pleasure."
He spanks me again, harder this time, and I cry out, pushing back against him, silently begging for more.
"You have no idea how much I fucking like that," Ramsey says, his voice rough as sandpaper. "Knowing I can hurt you a little and you'll just beg for more."
His pace increases, each thrust driving deeper than the last. I'm pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy, and I've never felt more alive.
"Next time I chase you through the woods like the little prey you are, when I catch you I’m gonna fuck this tight little ass. Pin you down in the dirt again and take what’s mine."
"Oh god," I whimper, the image he's painting making me dizzy with want.
He shifts his weight, reaching around to rub my clit in circles as he continues to pound into me. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? My cock stretching this ass while you squirm underneath me?"
"Yes," I gasp, shameless in my need. "I want that."
Ramsey's fingers work magic on my clit, bringing me right to the edge again. I'm so close I can taste it, my entire body tensing as the pressure builds.
"Come for me," he demands, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "Come all over my dick like the good little star you are."
That does it. I explode around him, my pussy clamping down on his length as waves of pleasure crash through me. I scream his name, over and over.
I'm barely conscious of what's happening as Ramsey suddenly pulls out of me, his strong hands flipping me onto my back. My vision swims as I try to focus on his face hovering above me, his blue eyes locked on mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
"I need to see you," he growls, but there's something different in his voice now—a vulnerability beneath the roughness.
He lines himself up and slides back inside me, so fucking slow I can feel every inch of him stretching me open. We both gasp as he bottoms out, fully seated inside me.
Instead of the punishing pace from before, he starts moving in long, deep strokes that hit places inside me I didn't know existed. His eyes never leave mine, like he's trying to memorize every expression that crosses my face.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, one hand coming up to brush damp strands of hair away from my forehead. The tenderness of the gesture makes my chest ache.
I reach up to touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He turns his head to press a kiss against my palm, and that simple action nearly breaks me.
"Ram," I whisper, not even knowing what I want to say.
He leans down, his lips meeting mine in a kiss so soft it's almost reverent. His tongue slides against mine as his hips keep up their steady rhythm, fucking me slow and deep like we have all the time in the world.
"I've wanted you for so long," he says against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. "But I was never good enough for you. I’m still not good enough for you."
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "You were always enough," I tell him, my voice cracking. "Always."
He drops his forehead to mine, our breath mingling as he continues to move inside me.
One of his hands cradles my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone like I'm something precious.
He makes a sound like he's been wounded, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before he regains control.
His lips find mine again, kissing me like he's trying to pour his soul into me through our connected mouths.
I can feel him everywhere—his cock stretching me, his chest pressed against my breasts, his hands in my hair, on my face, tracing patterns on my skin like he's writing promises he's afraid to say out loud.
"I love you," he says against my lips. The words so raw they sound like they've been torn from deep in his chest. It’s like he cracked open his ribs, dipped his fingers inside and wrote his love and loyalty across my skin in his blood.
"I love you too," I whisper back, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. The words feel inadequate for what's coursing through me right now—this overwhelming tidal wave of emotion that threatens to drown me in the best possible way.
Ramsey's eyes darken as he stares down at me, like he’s crawling inside my head, my body, infecting my bloodstream with something so inherently him. If you cut me open all that would bleed out would be him, us.
He shifts his weight onto one arm, the other hand sliding between our bodies to find my clit. His fingers circle it with just the right pressure, making me see stars.
"Gonna make you come again," he says, his voice rough with determination. "Want to feel this pussy squeeze my cock when you fall apart."
My back arches off the bed as he presses down harder on my clit, timing his strokes to hit my G-spot.
"Oh god, Ram, I can't—" My words cut off in a choked moan as the pressure builds, my entire body tensing beneath him.
"Yes, you fucking can," he growls, his eyes locked on mine. "Give it to me. Give me everything."
His fingers move faster. I'm teetering on the edge, so close I can taste it, but something's holding me back. Like I need him to tell me, to push me. To finally be able to let go.
"Let go," Ramsey commands, like he can read my mind. His voice drops even lower, almost a purr against my ear. "Let go for me, baby. I've got you."
Those words break something open inside me. My orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave, my pussy clenching around his cock as my body convulses beneath him. I scream his name, clawing at his back as the pleasure becomes almost too intense to bear.
"Fuck, yes," he hisses, his rhythm faltering as my inner walls spasm around him. "That's it, milk my cock with that tight little cunt."
He fucks me through it, drawing out my orgasm until I'm a whimpering, oversensitive mess beneath him. Just when I think I can't take anymore, his thrusts become erratic, his breathing harsh against my neck.
He buries himself to the hilt as he starts to come. I feel every pulse, every twitch of his cock as he empties himself inside me. His beautiful face contorted in ecstasy above me. He finally collapses on top of me, his weight once again pressing me into the mattress.
We lay there panting, slick with sweat, his cock still pulsing inside me. His face is buried in my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I run my fingers through his damp hair, feeling more complete than I ever have in my life.
"Fuck," he finally mumbles against my skin. "That was..."
"Yeah," I agree, unable to find the right words either.
That was him showing me he loved me, only me. Only ever me, and I’d be a real dumb bitch to ever let him go.
Ramsey suddenly rolls us, flipping our positions so I'm sprawled on top of him like a human blanket. I'm still slick between my thighs, our bodies sticky with sweat and cum, but I don't care. I just want to stay connected to him like this forever.
His hands start stroking my back in long, lazy patterns. Up and down my spine, across my shoulder blades, tracing the dip of my lower back. It's soothing and possessive all at once.
"You're my seven minutes," he says softly against my hair.
I lift my head from his chest, looking at him with confusion. "Seven minutes? What are you talking about?"
His eyes are intense, almost vulnerable—a look I rarely see on Ramsey's face. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb lingering on my cheek.
"After death, the brain stays alive for seven minutes," he explains, voice rough with emotion. "It replays the best memories of your life in those final moments." His hand cradles my face. "You're every single second of my seven minutes, Reese. Every fucking one."