26. Sophia #2
The truth is, I’m terrified. Not of the monster he’s warning me about—but of how much I don’t fear him. I’ve never been a violent person. Never condoned any sort of violence. Never believed that bloodshed could be anything but a failure of humanity.
But that was before I loved him. Before I understood that some wounds don’t heal. They fester. And the only way to stop the rot is to cut out the source.
I go to stand in front of him, the hem of his oversized shirt brushing my thighs.
“She took so much from you,” I say, reaching under the shirt, slowly sliding my panties down to pool around my feet before sliding onto his lap, straddling him, weaving my fingers through his hair.
“And I want you to take it all back. Every scream. Every scar. Every piece of yourself she tried to own.” I lean in and press a slow kiss to his scarred cheek. “Then I want you to come home to me.”
Strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“Let the monster out,” I breathe against his ear. “One last time. Because the monster deserves his retribution.”
His eyes close for a single, heavy second. When they open again, something has settled in them—cold, clear, and absolute. The thing that lives underneath the man I love. The thing that was there long before me, and that I have never once been afraid of.
“But I need one thing,” I say softly, slowly pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
“Anything,” he rasps.
I rest my forehead against his. “I want to be part of it. I want to see the monster.”
He shakes his head, jaw tight. “No. Not—”
I press a finger to his lips. “She took something from me, too, down in that cell. She took the man I love and tried to break him into pieces I couldn’t reach. So, yes… I want to watch you take it back.”
That’s all it takes.
Something inside him snaps.
With a low, feral growl ripping out of his chest, Reth surges up from the bed like he’s done playing.
His hands clamp onto my hips, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, my legs locking around his waist on instinct as he spins us.
My back hits the wall hard enough to knock the air out of me.
He drops to his knees, hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, and drags his tongue up my soaked pussy in one slow, filthy lick.
I moan loudly, head falling back against the wall.
He doesn’t tease—he devours. Long, hungry strokes from my entrance to my clit, sucking on my swollen nub until my thighs start shaking around his head.
When I’m grinding against his face, desperate and dripping, he shoves two thick fingers inside me, curling them right against that spot that makes my brain short-circuit.
“Fuck—Reth—” I pant, right on the edge, grinding harder. He yanks his fingers out, leaving me clenching around nothing. Then he hooks my other leg over his shoulder too, rising to his full height in one powerful move.
My back presses harder into the wall as he holds me up like I’m nothing, legs draped over his broad shoulders, pussy completely spread open right in front of his mouth.
The position is obscene and hot and perfect.
I’m folded in half, suspended in the air by nothing but his strength, every inch of me exposed.
Every nerve-ending scorched electric by the drag of his tongue.
His arms lock around my thighs, big hands gripping and spreading my ass wide. “Look at this messy fucking pussy,” he growls, voice rough. “Dripping everywhere for me.”
He buries his face in me. Loud, sloppy, starving. Tongue spearing deep into my cunt, sucking on my folds, slurping up every drop like he can’t get enough.
The wet, obscene sounds fill the room—sucking, licking, groaning into my cunt as I ride his face.
I’m shaking, completely held up by him, nails digging into his scalp.
The orgasm hits me like a freight train, and I come hard, crying out his name, pussy gushing around his tongue while my legs lock around his head.
He keeps going, licking me through it, dragging out every twitch and whimper until I’m a trembling mess.
Then he’s moving again. He throws me back onto the bed, face shiny with my cum, eyes dark and wild. “You want the monster?”
“I want all of you,” I gasp, spreading my legs wider.
He grabs my waist and flips me onto my stomach, fist twisting in my hair, yanking my head back as he pulls me up onto all fours.
The sting shoots straight to my clit, and he spreads my ass with both hands and dives back in—tongue dragging through my dripping slit, circling my asshole, then pushing inside my pussy, tongue-fucking me while he strokes his thick cock.
I moan shamelessly, pushing back against his face, chasing his tongue as he eats me from behind. The sounds are filthy—wet slurping, his groans vibrating against me, my own desperate noises filling the room.
Only when I’m right on the edge again does he pull away, grab my hips, and line up. There’s no warning, no gentle easing. Just one blunt, hard thrust that punches the air from my lungs as he buries himself to the hilt.
The stretch is devastating. He’s thick and long and so fucking deep I feel him in my stomach. My walls flutter and clench around the sudden, overwhelming fullness, trying to adjust to the brutal invasion. The burn is exquisite—pleasure edged with the slightest sting that only makes me wetter.
His rhythm isn’t fast, but it’s powerful—slow, punishing strokes that drag against every sensitive inch inside me.
Each thrust bottoms out with a heavy slap of skin on skin, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of me, forcing a broken moan from my throat.
The force of it makes my breasts sway and the bed slam against the wall.
Every time he pulls back, I feel empty, aching.
Every time he drives back in, I feel claimed, ruined, owned.
The thick drag of his cock against my walls, the way he grinds deep at the end of each thrust, the wet, filthy sound of my pussy taking every inch—it’s all too much and not enough.
Each thrust bottoms out with a heavy slap of skin on skin, his balls hitting my clit and sending sparks through me.
“You feel that?” he growls against my ear. “That’s the monster you asked for. He’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk, then he’s going to go paint the walls with her blood.”
I moan louder, pushing back to meet every brutal thrust. “Yes— God, yes. Harder.”
“Fuck, you’re creaming all over my cock.”
He reaches around and rubs my clit in tight, rough circles. The pressure builds fast—his thick cock stretching me open, his fingers working me, his filthy words in my ear. He leans over me, chest to my back, biting my shoulder as he keeps pounding.
“Come on my cock while I think about ripping her apart,” he growls. “Then I’m flooding this greedy pussy before I go finish it.”
The words hit different—dark, possessive, violent.
The image of him covered in her blood, finally taking back everything she stole, crashes into the way he’s destroying my pussy.
I come hard, screaming his name, walls clamping down around him, gushing and pulsing as the orgasm wrecks me.
My whole body shakes, thighs trembling, pussy milking his cock like it never wants to let go.
He fucks me through it, deep and relentless, dragging it out until I’m whimpering and oversensitive. Then he slams in one last time and comes with a guttural groan, and I feel his cock jerk against my pussy walls, giving me his cum until it leaks out around his cock and drips down my thighs.
We stay locked together, panting, his chest pressed to my back, arms wrapped around me like he’ll never let me go. His cock is still buried deep, twitching inside me.
“Just one last time, Cherry-red,” he whispers against my neck, voice raw.
I turn my head and kiss him—slow, deep, tasting myself on his tongue.
“One last time,” I breathe. “Then forever.”