Chapter 38 （Epilogue） #2
Another pleased hum reaches my ears from behind me, “I’m gonna break the skin this time, Brig, and you’re gonna bleed for me.”
I shouldn’t be into this. Should be running as far and fast as I can.
But the only reaction that occurs from the warning is a flood of wetness into my cunt and a primal groan from my mouth into the bed.
His empty hand sinks between my legs again, two fingers spearing me, making me cry out.
“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Honey, you’re soaked. You love this, don’t you?”
I frantically nod. I do love this.
Love that the only thoughts I’m capable of are more, please, and don’t stop.
Love the threat of controlled, safe, pain and fear.
His hand works me open, fingers scissoring and sinking in and out, the hot sound of my body swallowing his digits filling the room.
The blade rests flat against my skin, the silent threat making my head spin, the anticipation of the promised pain driving me insane as I try not to fuck myself on his hand.
“Jesus Christ, Brig,” he groans. “This pussy is drenched. You hear how wet it is?”
I whimper, my body climbing towards orgasm again, my spine tingling.
The sharp blade twists slightly against me, the sharp point kissing my skin.
Cormac presses the wicked edge into me, the slight burn of it splitting the flesh, while his fingers drag against my G-spot, making me scream, pain and pleasure mixing into one sensation.
He moves the blade down my cheek slightly before easing off the pressure, back to just scratching the surface all the way to my thigh before lifting it away, leaving a tingling, hot trail on my skin.
He releases a loud, filthy groan, fucking his hand into me faster, rubbing that spot relentlessly while the small slice in my skin blooms with blood, the warm liquid gently drifting down my skin.
“Holy fuck, Brig,” he pants. “You have no idea how fucking good you look right now. Jesus Christ, I’m so in love with you, my little masochist. I knew you’d bleed so beautifully for me, that you’d soak my fingers when you did.”
I can’t think straight. Can’t think at all.
All I’ve become is a living embodiment of sensation. I can feel my heart thundering, my fucking clit throbbing in time with it, the break in my skin echoing that pulse. The pleasure is so intense my toes curl, and my thighs shake.
Cormac chuckles with depraved satisfaction, and I distantly register the blade hitting the floor before he murmurs, “You can move now, Brig. I know you need to. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”
I let loose a whimpering moan, writhing on his hand, letting the orgasm build freely now that I’m not at risk of really hurting myself.
“There it is,” he praises. “Keep going, baby.”
Little pants of his name and desperate moans escape me, pathetic little oh, oh, oh’s as he curls his fingers again, and I’m so fucking close I can feel myself fluttering around him.
Cormac moans with me, thrusting his fingers into me and gripping my hip to pull me back onto them, curling and pressing.
I cry out his name, followed by an attempt at speaking, but it only comes out in manic, wailing chants of please, fuck, please, gonna come, oh god.
“Yeah?” he grunts, pressing a thumb into the sensitive, stinging slice on my ass, smearing my blood across my skin. “Come on, Brigit, let me have it. Give me that sweetness, I want it all over my hand.”
All of it is just too much, and the sensory overload shoves me violently over the edge into a screaming high, liquid gushing from my core as it pulses around Cormac’s fingers.
He doesn’t stop, using both hands to bring more and more, pleasure with one hand, pain with the other, dragging the orgasm on and on.
I’m powerless to stop it or even stop the screams, stuck in this vulnerable position, leaving Cormac free to dole out as much of the blissful torture as he wants, working me through it with expert precision.
“Oh, Bunny,” he moans loudly, digging his thumb harder into the fresh wound, “Fuck, yeah, you’re coming so hard for me.
Oh, this cunt loves giving it up for me, huh?
You’re so good, love seeing all of you flexing and squeezing, even this hot little back hole is begging for me.
” To punctuate his words, he presses the bloodied thumb against my asshole, making me squeal and bite the fucking sheets.
He massages it and keeps filling my pussy with his fingers until my screams subside, my body relaxing from the high. His touch gentles, slowing and eventually stopping, removing his fingers from between my legs and gently pulling me back up onto my hands and knees.
“You okay?” he asks when I can breathe again, kissing up my spine until he’s at my shoulder, gaze locked on my face.
I nod.
“Was that good?” he pries, raising a single brow with a smile. He doesn’t need to ask; the evidence of how fucking incredible it was is coating his hand and my inner thighs.
I nod anyway.
His lips land on mine, hot and commanding, his tongue immediately swiping across my bottom lip, not asking for entrance but demanding.
I obey without hesitation, opening and welcoming his tongue against mine, sliding across it, our mouths fused together as he grinds his body into mine, his hard length pressing against my sore ass through his underwear.
“Brigit,” he presses my name against my lips. “Baby, I need to get inside you so fucking bad, but I’m not done looking at my artwork,” his fingers drift over the cut in question.
“What a conundrum,” I mumble.
He grins, “Don’t you worry, Bunny, I already have a solution.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “I’m gonna lay back, and you’re gonna sit this pretty pussy on my cock so I can watch your ass bleed while you writhe on me.”
A quiet moan rumbles in my throat, and he grins wildly, those sharp teeth shining in the afternoon light before shoving me by my hip to fall onto my side and climbing off the bed.
He drops his underwear, and my eyes immediately land on his dick, the veins running underneath it, the head so full of blood it looks painful. Fuck, that’s a pretty cock.
He grips it and tugs a few times, making precum gather at the tip.
“Brig, if you keep looking at it all hungry like that, I’m gonna make you fucking choke on it,” he tells me through gritted teeth.
When my eyes meet his, I know desperation is written all over my face just by the smug smile on his.
He shows me mercy, finally climbing onto the mattress, sitting slightly reclined against a mountain of pillows and the headboard. Without warning, he leans forward, dragging me by my hips until I’m straddling him, facing the TV in front of us.
As the tip of his cock brushes my folds, I gasp; the tiny touch enough to send fizzles of pleasure through me.
Spurred on by my reaction, he drives his hips up and pulls mine down, sinking me onto his rock-hard length, spearing me on it all at once, dragging a ragged cry from my lips as my body adjusts to the sudden pressure against my walls.
He releases a low, rumbling moan of my name, using his hold to roll my hips, back and forth across him, his cock hitting an angle that makes my toes curl.
With every rock, I moan, this position making him feel so unbelievably deep, the head prodding spots inside me I didn’t even know existed, all the while my clit rubs against his pelvis, adding to the intensity.
“Jesus, Brig,” Cormac moans. “This pussy, fuck.”
I keep moving, finding the rhythm that pulls endless moans from me.
“Oh, that’s it,” he praises, releasing my hips to run his warm palms over my skin, letting me take over. “Good job, baby, move those fucking hips on me. Jesus, you look good from back here.”
I whine his name and he pulses his hips up, dragging one palm up my back to grip the hair at my nape and bend me a little further forward. “Keep going, Bunny, don’t stop.”
I can feel how badly he’s trying to stay in control, how his fingers tremble in my hair, I can even hear the quiet whimpers he’s trying to swallow down, as destroyed with pleasure as I am.
But I want him even worse. I need him wild and desperate, the way he always makes me feel.
Instead of rocking back and forth, I lift and bounce.
The noise that leaves Cormac’s throat is almost a shout, his fingers gripping my hair harder.
When I do it again, he shouts my name, the sound sending shivers up my spine.
Over and over, I slam my body onto his, the filthy slap of our joining ringing in my ears.
“Oh, Brigit,” he moans loudly, “Oh, fuck.” A desperate whine finally slips from his mouth.
“Jesus, Brig, you’re gonna make me come already.
I’m outta practice, babe—shit. This pussy’s too good.
You’re too good, fucking bouncing on it like that.
” His rambling sentence ends in a moan through gritted teeth.
My eyes roll back in my head from that sound, closing so I can focus on the all-consuming pleasure of riding him, feeling every inch sink inside me over and over while he loses himself to it, fucking up into me every time I bring my hips down, the only sounds our ceaseless moans and bodies colliding.
His moans turn into a vicious growl as he grips my hair hard, arching my spine and stopping me from moving.
With hard, panting breaths, he holds me completely still.
“Cormac,” I whine. “I need to move.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he orders. “Lean forward.”
Not waiting for me to listen, he uses his grip on my head to push me down. Once I’m at the angle he wants, he spanks my ass, right on the wound he created earlier.
My cunt flexes around him from the sharp bite of pain and the immediate warmth that trickles out of the cut he slapped back open.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” he groans. “Sorry, baby. It had all dried up, and I need more.”
“More of my blood?” I whimper. This is fucking crazy. He’s crazy. But I’m letting him fuck me, so I must be fucking crazy, too.
“More of everything,” he moans. “Your blood, your cum, your sweet, sweet sounds. I want everything.”
“You can have it.” The words escape me immediately.