22. XXII
XXII
Spencer
I headbutted him, my forehead colliding with his face, causing pain to ricochet through my skull.
“ FUCKING PSYCHO BITCH!”
No point denying it. I grabbed the closest instrument my fingers came in contact with—which happened to be a metal spatula—then proceeded to beat him with it.
I managed to get a few good hits in, too, until he wrestled me down. My spine hit the benchtop as we struggled for leverage.
Then, pain lanced into my shoulder. That fucker bit me! Using the distraction, Echo ripped the makeshift weapon from my grip.
Coming down from the struggle, acute awareness sparked of our current position.
Echo was layered on top of me, his hands anchoring my wrists above my head with nil room for escape. He remained between my legs, his pelvis securing me in place. Although, that wasn’t what made us pause.
In the scuffle, I had lost my cooking apron and he had lost the towel, his magnificent cock bare and rigid, pressing against my black lace panties—that were now damp with arousal.
We didn’t move, not even an inch.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, his face hovering above mine.
“Like what?” I challenged, squirming beneath him.
“ Stop, ” he almost pleaded, his voice spiked with something extra that had my skin tingling all over.
God, he was delusional.
Ignoring his request, I shifted my hips, grinding my centre against his—then let myself drown beneath the rising tide of pleasure.
He remained rigid, not giving in to my ministrations. Yet, his voice was desperate, on the very precipice of surrender. “I can’t… We can’t?—”
“—then leave ! You’re not my prisoner, Echo. What are you even afraid of? That the last time you made me come was a fluke? That even though you have that big dick, you don’t actually know how to use it?—”
In one swift motion, Echo pulled my panties to the side and impaled his thick length inside me.
I screamed, the intrusion simultaneously painful and euphoric. He didn’t give me time to accommodate his size, the only thought that processed being the need for more.
More. More. More.
The chant thumped in my head as it teetered on my lips. My brain was scrambled, my body intuitively writhing to the rhythm of his punishing thrusts.
“Fuck you… And fuck this perfect. Fucking. Pussy .” He grunted. “You just had to push me, didn’t you? Now look at what you’ve done, sweetheart. Take this dick. ”
Slam. Slam. Slam.
If being railed by a sex god was my punishment, let’s just say I’d sin more often. Taking ownership of my misdemeanours, I submitted to the penalty like a good girl, my heels digging into his ass, urging him faster, pushing him harder.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Swallow me. Use me. Take what you need, Ghost .”
Our eyes caught, the intensity of our connection pulling taut as he pounded relentlessly deep as if he could fuck all his hate into me.
I can take it. I’d take it all. That same promise echoing into my soul… I will be your end.
We were an active warzone, recklessly manoeuvring through an explosive minefield that stretched between us. However, with each tormenting touch, every light caress, I could sense the bombs ready to detonate—minute cracks splintering his foundations, tiny fissures weakening his resolve.
Any other time, I would have howled in victory… If only I wasn’t affected, too.
Echo ripped off my bra, leaving my breasts exposed and heaving. As if possessed, his momentum slowed to leisurely pumps as he bowed his head and revered my chest with intentional focus.
He kissed along my collarbone, licked down my breasts, sucked on my nipples and when he bit down on a sensitive tip, my back arched off the bench, shoving more flesh into his wet, wanting mouth.
Red streaks and teeth marks marred my skin, causing ripples of heat to tighten and squeeze my cunt from the sheer intensity.
With his unguarded attention, coupled with his dick sliding in and out of me—so fucking slowly— my erratic neurons had me losing my absolute mind. I was hypersensitive.
With each thrust, he was changing our dynamic, his actions spelling out a declaration that neither of us wanted to address but couldn’t resist.
We weren’t just fucking anymore, my deprived soul searching for something deeper. It had never happened before. I was happy with chasing pleasure wherever and whenever I needed. However, there was a new, instinctual calling—which was screaming out for him .
Echo continued his exploration, halting over my sternum. A stagnant second stretched as his hazel eyes flicked up to mine, capturing me in stasis while his tongue traced the Sovereign crown tattoo stamped between my breasts.
When he finished his thorough examination, he shifted and pressed a devout kiss to my stab wound—the wound he’d inflicted.
It was more than a mere press of his lips. I could see the regret in his eyes, feel the remorse in that simple brush of contact.
Long-dead feelings were stirring inside me. Emotions that I had beat down and smothered for the past four years. The trauma of losing someone I loved so dearly fucking destroyed me, obliterated those weak qualities that I swore would never breach the surface again. Which had never been challenged…until now.
“Echo, harder ,” I pleaded, shifting my hips higher with desperation. I wanted him deeper— needed him deeper. To take away those thoughts, erase those dangerous feelings, fucking drown them in lust and desire instead.
Bright hazel flecks of green and gold shone above me, boring into my forest green with confusion and vulnerability.
With each tormenting pump, an invisible shift occurred, small in its summation, however powerful enough to destroy us both. The scales weighed our connection with two possible outcomes: our almighty triumph or our utter ruination.
Am I willing to give in and find out?
“Echo, you have to stop, ” I pleaded. Stop looking at me like that. Stop touching me like that. Stop. “ Please.”
His expression was pained. He couldn’t stop… Just as much as I didn’t want him too. “ Fuck, Ghost …if only I knew how.”
He was lost. Just like me.
I could hear the fractures splintering in my chest… If only they were physical, then I’d have some hope of recovery.
Crack. Crack. Crack. There goes my damaged heart.
Wariness crept in my psyche as his eyes reflected mine. He could see it all. Which made panic jump to the forefront of my mind. Without a command, my palm raised to his pec—whether to push him away or pull him closer, I couldn’t say.
Echo flinched, fear causing him to stutter as he aggressively peeled my hand off to slam back against the benchtop, pain radiating up my wrist.
His expression transitioned into a sinister sneer as he growled.
He didn’t like my touch—couldn’t stand it. The gentle pressure was far too intimate for the manwhore. And with that action, he immediately severed the fragile tether we had barely established.
Echo’s reaction was a stark reminder of the only thing he was good for. The only thing I wanted from him.
“Fuck. Me. Harder,” I said, teeth bared, wanting to rip the fucker apart.
Echo straightened, raised my feet over his shoulders and secured my waist with his hands. With renewed focus, he slammed into me with so much force, I felt like I was splitting in two. His hazel eyes ate me all the way up despite them being filled with animosity.
Perspiration coated our skin, our joint pants making us breathless. Then, Echo blindly reached for the spatula and slid the metal handle through my sensitive pussy lips, bumping against my piercing with intoxicating motion.
My inner walls clenched, choking his cock so tight, I was surprised he could move at all. Echo growled and cussed me out.
“No one has ever made me… Fuck, no one has ever felt?—"
He was transfixed, sole attention geared towards the cool metal that teased my clit and his shaft that continued to disappear inside me. His timing impeccable, his drive irresistible.
I was in sensory overload, near the point of combusting when a gleam of steel caught my eye. The acute reminder reverted me back to the last time he was inside me and the immediate pain that followed.
Shame and rage shoved forth, and on impulse, I flipped the blade from the countertop, offering the handle to Echo. “Go on, finish what you started.”
Hurt flickered over his face before he gripped the knife and stabbed—hard. The impact made a hint of fear flash through my system, causing my pussy to shatter with orgasm as my body was wholly taken over with pleasure and blinding heat.
Distantly, I heard Echo groan while his dick convulsed, warming my insides with his cum.
His weight sagged against me, and our rib cages collided with every jagged breath. We both examined the swaying knife next to my ear, the tip embedded into the countertop.
As the pulsating subsided and Echo retracted, the ache in my chest became reality as blood ran down my sides. My wound had reopened from our rigorous fuckfest.
I sat upright, waiting for Echo to move so I could clean that shit up. When he didn’t budge, I regarded his frozen state.
He stared. Just stood there, hypnotised by the red droplets that spread over my ribs and down my torso.
I cleared my throat, then watched as a stone wall slammed down over his features, his movements detached as he reached to help me down.
With a huff, I pushed him away. “You’ve done enough.”
I walked out, swaying my hips, sensing his eyes following my retreat.
Crack. Crack. Crack.