Chapter Twenty-Two
Ava
I shake my head, no. I was stuck in a loop of questioning myself and every time I would feel ok, I would rip back into pieces. Shawn deserves what he got but it was hard to move past how good it felt and by my own hands.
Roman pulls me inward, sweeping his thumb over the bandage on my forehead. “Nobody can touch you. Only me.” His voice is dark, squeezing my hip, hard. “Phone. We are leaving.” He puts his hand out.
“I…I need to talk with Sarah and I have a lot to do,” I say.
He lets go of me and walks past, to my room.
I followed after him. “What are you doing?” He grabs my phone off the charger, placing it in his pocket.
“You're not staying here.”
I stare at him in disbelief as he steps forward. The heat of his body warms me as he sulks closer. I stand still and silent, aching for his hands on my waist again. He watches my throat bob as gulp.
I can’t be like them. Ever.
He lifts my chin, tilting his head as he clenches his jaw. My breath is heavy as I tuck in my lower lip. I hate how much he can see me for me, even through my red swollen eyes from crying. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere right now. Of course a killer accepts me for who I am and all of my deep, dark twisted branches scratching at the surface, waiting, anticipating to rip through the silk I weave around me. Nobody is allowed to see those pieces of me, no matter how many try. He doesn’t try though, he knows.
The pain of surrendering, aches in my core as his hand reaches under the band of my sweatshirt, brushing his thumb over the scars on my hip as he kisses the top of my head.
Roman
Her scars raise under my thumb, pricking up with every stroke. She presses her hips into my front side holding her arms around me. I raise the front of her sweatshirt, exposing her stomach. A massive black bruise on the right side stretches from the top of her ribs to her hip.
Anger boils to my teeth as I grab her hand, dragging her to the bathroom. I let go as I turn the shower on.
She stands with her back to the mirror, “Uh…What are you doing, Roman?”
I wait until the steam starts to rise, fogging the mirror. “Is this the only bruise?” I step forward, forcing her to step back into vanity.
“I…I don’t know. Yes.”
She squeaks as I lift her swiftly onto the bathroom counter, widening her eyes. I narrow my vision at the bandage on her forehead, examining the damage. She whimpers softly as I peel the tape away from her forehead, making me rumble with pleasure, “Mmmhm.” I blow on the gash softly. It is small and already healing but it was deep.
Her knees drift apart slowly as she rubs her lips together and softly parts them, keeping her focus on my mouth.
I inch between her, “Is this what you really want? For me to use you, tear you open? To let the seams of existence rip so they can be filled with some kind of feeling, Cottontail?” I reach my fingers around her neck, swiping down to hold her collarbone, “Do you want me to assault you on your terms and nobody else's?”
She sits for a second and nods her head, “Ye-yes.”
Planting my hand on the mirror, I bite her mouth gently, tugging on her lower lip into rough kisses of consumption. Fog blankets our skin as the condensation covers her glasses lens. She is so cute as she blushes. I remove her glasses and fold them to the side as I claim tiny bits of her flesh, with my teeth. My hand is steady, reaching under her pullover. Her skin is soft against my calloused hands pricking the chill bumps. I cup my hand around one of her tits, squeezing the full mound with force. Her nipple hardens as I pinch, twisting and pricking it from her.
“Fuck, Roman,” she moans as she bites her lower lip.
“Say it again. Say my name.”
“Rom–” She struggles to finish as I flip her over. I press her hips with mine, bending her over the counter with her face inches from the fogged mirror.
She grinds her ass into my hard cock as I keep my pressure on her. Pushing her hips against me, she wriggles under hold as I pin her down so she can't go anywhere. I lift her pullover past her head, flinging it to the side. My knuckles turn white when I see the bandage across her forearm. I lift it to the side kissing from her shoulder to her wrist, brushing my lips over the tape and gauze.
Trailing kisses down her spine to her waist, I strip her leggings off with her thong. My hand smacks her ass, setting it into a ripple. She yelps as I spread her ass cheeks open, and she is such a sight to see open for me like this. Sliding my fingers over her asshole, I creep them slowly to her soaking swollen pussy. She coos as I tease her opening, circling her clit.
I sweep my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor as I unbuckle my belt. I snap it out of its loops, grazing Ava’s asscheek with a whip . She looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes as I undo my pants, dropping them to the floor. My hand squeezes the inside of her thigh, as my other trails between her lips, pinching her clit between my fingers.
“Yes,” She hums at my increasing pressure.
I keep the same pressure, listening to her whines. Her breath is deep, as she folds her arms under her. I stop circling, lifting my gaze from her ass to the mirror, depriving her of an orgasm. The thick breath of aggravation from her makes me grin. I line the head of my cock with her, as I grasp my hands around her hips holding down. She thrusts her hips for me to enter but I increase my pressure, denying her. She muffles with a grumble, twitching her upper lip at me in annoyance as I watch her wait.
She tries to squirm away from me in frustration, reaching for anything in front of her to pull her away. I spread my knees between her and widen her legs straight, trapping them against the counter as she kicks her feet, shaking her head.
I plunge into her wet entrance, pulverizing my pelvis into her thick ass as I spread her cheeks with my hands, watching her delicious pussy take all of me. She cries out, but rolls her hips in unison with my pulse as she tries to pull herself away.
I entangle my hands in her messy bun on the crown of her head, lifting her head up hard to face the mirror. Her eyes are shut, but her mouth opens with angelic moans escaping with every thrust. Wiping the mirror with my other hand I streak the image of us.
“Watch.” I demand. I want her to see how she truly needs to be fucked and how she should be touched.
Her eyes flutter, struggling to keep focus as I keep a constant rhythm, in and out.
“Good, good fucking girl. You're doing such a good job. Keep watching.” I keep my fist around her hair, supporting her head as her body starts to melt into the white vanity. Her opening drips with arousal seeping around the base of my cock. I push deeper into her with every pulse.
She tries to pull herself from me with moans but her pussy clenches down on my cock as her body spasms, legs shaking, pushing her over the edge. She screams, pussy pulsing, coming on my cock.
“Oh… Roman…” She mumbles between the screams.
I drive my hips, releasing my come deep inside of her as I bury my cock. “Fuck…mmmm,” I groan, gritting my teeth together. “You feel so good, Cottontail” I gravel, with deep slow movements mixing our come together.
I keep myself inside her as her body soothes against mine. Kissing the speckle of bruises between her shoulder blades, I pull my cock out, spilling my cream from her lips. I lean back, spreading the crease where her ass meets the top of her thighs, as I watch it drip down her legs, so slowly for me. Her worn body is heaving as she faces me with eyes that are bright and clear, folding her bottom lip under her top. I hold onto her waist, watching her face flush.
I take her hand and lead her into the shower as I step in after. The water rushes over her front side as I undo her hair. Lifting her arm into the stream, I peel her bandage from her skin, tossing it out of the shower. She doesn't flinch from the hot water on her wounds, but I could tell it was on her mind. Reaching for the soap bottle, of her unmistakable scent of cherry, I drip it onto a washrag. With gentle and slow movements I grace over her as I clean the gashes. A soft humph parts from her lips but her body is calm, leaning into my front side. I wash her hair and body, making sure my movements are slow. Worry inches to her eyes as her body slightly starts to shake.
Furrowing my brows, I place the wash rag on a hook, “What is it? I will take care of him.”
“No…No it’s…it’s… not that.” She inches to exit the shower, “It’s not anything,” she says with ease, forcing a smile as she steps out.
Shawn is a dead man, but something else is bothering her. She shifts her eyes, patterning exactly the way she shifted her them when I commanded her to tell me why she was in the Library.