7. Lilith #2
I can barely nod before, with his other hand, he lands sharp, quick strikes across each butt cheek, alternating between them as he reddens them. It hurts, just a little, but soon pleasure blooms with every impact, until the sting blurs into craving and I struggle to stay upright.
“Now, you want to tell me something?” he asks.
I point at him with a gesture that says, You first.
“You know what? I’ll get the truth out of you later.” Another crack thunders through the supply closet when he spanks me again, followed by my muffled scream. “Hands on the wall.”
Once I do as I’m told, he makes an approving sound in the back of his throat and removes his hand from my mouth. Desire runs through me, blooming into something wilder when I hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he takes them off.
And yet, as erotic as the thought of Alaric stripping is, it doesn’t compare to this.
To him gripping my hip with one hand.
And rubbing himself with the other.
I don’t have to be experienced to know that’s what I’m hearing. Aroused and burning for a glimpse, I turn my head, biting my lip to silence a moan at the sight of him.
Oh my God. Watching this gorgeous man fuck his fist, his large hand stroking his length, is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Veins cord his smooth, hard cock. The head is swollen, and precum is wetting the tip.
And his gaze is pinned to my ass until he catches me staring.
His eyes lock with mine, and I realize just how badly he needs me too.
I almost come, then and there.
“I wish we had more time,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You”—my clit flutters every time his hand jerks his dick—“have to go back to work?”
“Yes.” Crack, and then his hand is there, massaging one ass cheek, soothing the hurt while he keeps his other hand on his cock. “I wish I could stay with you all day. I can’t. You shouldn’t want that either. You should run from me.”
“Why?” I push my ass back, aching to feel more of him, any part of him.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s too late now.” He slows his pumps to spank me again. Hard. I clamp my lips together, or the hospital would hear me moan Alaric’s name like he’s my god. “I’m not letting go. Even when you realize what a monster I am.”
“I’ll never run. I won’t.”
“I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore.” His eyebrows shoot down. Resolve and sex are written all over his face. “You’re mine.”
Alaric bunches my shirt up my back before bringing his hand around to the front of my body, going lower.
Lower.
“Oh.” My toes curl when he rubs my clit, his middle finger still wet from fucking me.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I don’t deserve”—grunt—“you. This. Us.”
“You do.”
Ignoring me, he shoves his cock between my thighs, his length sliding over my pussy. Inch by sensual inch, he pushes forward until his hips press against my ass, and I see the crown of his cock when I look down.
“Close your legs. Want to feel you.” His voice is husky, drenched in need. “More. More. You won’t hurt me. Ah, that’s a good girl.”
He tilts his hips back so his fingers can pinch, pull, then soothe my clit. Alaric shifts from fast to slow before drawing them away so he can drive his hips into me again.
It’s so wrong, to lube his dick with my arousal as he fucks the tight space between my thighs.
So depraved and hot too. The feel of his dick spreading my lips, combined with his hands on my clit and my hip, with his groans and heated glare, it’s perfect.
Desire threatens to drag me under. But our conversation isn’t over.
“You do deserve me. No matter what you’ve done,” I whisper. Can’t do much more. An orgasm builds in my stomach, and that almost feeling spreads warmth throughout my body. “I won’t break. Won’t run. I can take it.”
“You have no idea”—his cock swells, pushing, scraping against my sensitive thighs—“what you’re talking about. But fuck, I love it.”
I can’t stand how tortured he sounds. I’m about to argue, except one look at him and I know this isn’t the time.
So I let myself get lost in Alaric.
It’s not a hardship, not at all.
Every one of my nerves is centered in my pussy, where Alaric strokes me into oblivion. He flicks his finger over my clit, timing it with the rhythm of his hips.
“That’s it.” He rubs me in circles, then up and down, doing more of what makes my thighs clench, and little moans escape me. “Keep soaking my cock. Let me feel how much you want it.”
I murmur his name, letting him use me however he pleases. My body is his to play with.
“Need you wetter than this,” he grunts as his thrusts slow.
I barely manage to ask, “How?” and one of his hands is on mine, pulling it from the wall.
When he presses my fingertips to his cock, to that slick, dripping slit, my mouth falls open. My hand trembles at the new sensation. At knowing that I made him like this, that he wants me that bad.
Alaric is just as affected by the contact, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as a growl tears out of him.
“Rub my cum on your clit.” Each word is a stroke of his hips. Another wave of dark pleasure. “Need to make you feel good.”
I do and, oh, God. It’s everything.