Chapter 45
forty-five
-Set-
I couldn’t stay away from her any longer.
The thought of not seeing her—even in death—almost drove me insane.
I need her... need to feel her next to me, to breathe in her skin, her hair, to feel her tight cunt wrapped around me.
I don’t care about the pain. I only care about feeling her.
To know she’s mine. To have my fill of her.
My cock moves inside her, igniting frenzy in my body, lighting every nerve, every cell one by one and making me feel more alive than ever.
She’s my drug. My medicine. My every-fucking-thing.
I need her, my body needs her in ways I don’t have words for. My mind needs her. My very soul needs her. It’s something I can’t deny anymore. And I won’t waste time before telling her this.
Her legs wrap tight around my waist, and I make just enough room to go deeper, to move harder, with one goal in mind—her ecstasy.
Her eyes flutter, lashes blinking rapidly, like her body’s trying to keep up with the pleasure.
I love how surprised she looks every time I take her, as if every time I manage to push past another one of her limits, going deep or claiming more.
Because hell, I want to claim everything from her.
And that reminds me of my true mark on her.
My metal on her clit. A reminder that even when I’m not inside her, I own her pleasure.
I reach to touch it, enhancing her pleasure with every circle of my fingers, urging her to feel her body trembling beneath me. Best gift I’ve ever picked.
My muscles are tight, my teeth clenched as I hear her moan through her release, nails digging into my back—just like I like them.
I’m not far behind. The tightening sensation is too real, gathering inside me like storm clouds until I break, spilling into her, filling her completely with my cum.
It’s violent in its relief, mind-blowing how necessary it is to feel normal again.
My legs are failing me, almost wrecked with exhaustion, so I brace a hand on the window for support while I catch my breath, also catching Serena beneath me.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice shaking with worry, fingers trailing over my chest.
I almost laugh, but it’s more of a groan.
“Pretty sure I’m supposed to be asking you that,” I manage, my lips brushing her neck as if this is a move I’ve planned and I’m not about to pass out on top of her.
“Let’s get you in bed.” It’s more really about getting me in bed, but I don’t want to sound weak.
I just crash onto the mattress, eyes on the ceiling—a stupid stuck smile on my lips, while she curls against my chest.
My medicine.
My calm.
My fucking everything.