Chapter 27 #4
I really brace myself then, grinning like an animal as I pound Scarlett as wildly as I need into the locker.
I even knock her hips forward, crushing her against the metal as she groans and claws uselessly at the graffiti and sticker-covered mess.
We moan as loudly as we want, the sounds echoing down the length of the empty hall like the cries of lost lover ghosts.
Scarlett and I always fucked like one of us was about to die, but this is even more intense than that.
“You’re mine,” she whispers fiercely, curled up against the locker and being fucked to within an inch of her life. “You’re mine, Bohnes. Mine, mine, mine. You’re not allowed to fucking leave me ever. I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Yes, kill me,” I purr, moan, melt against her ear, nuzzling her, biting her neck. Ignoring Widow. Pumping my hips. The sound of our bodies fills up the silence between my words. “Stalk me. Fuck me. Keep me. I’m so sorry, Scarlett. I’m so sorry that I tried to leave you in this world alone.”
My fingers dig into her hair and my lips press a breathless and loving kiss against her cheek while I fuck against her ass so hard that her cheeks are going to be bruised. I’m selfish, it’s true. I want her to feel the pain of my entry with each thrust of the other boys’ cocks. Mine, mine, mine.
I don’t even have to say it aloud.
“Don’t…apologize…for…almost…dying,” she gasps out, her words in time with my thrusts. I wrap an arm around her neck and she clings to me with needy fingers. My other arm slips around her waist, holding her away from the locker but flush against me.
She’s much taller in the heels, but still struggling for height, trying to lift her ass into me so we stay locked together. Watching her struggle to keep us connected really does it for me.
“Run.” I step back suddenly, releasing Scarlett to see what she’ll do. She looks at me over her shoulder, wets her lips, and then drags her overalls back up.
She sprints into the shadows.
I count to three, throw a cordial nod in Widow’s direction, and then take off after her.
Scarlett knows better than to try to hide from me.
It’s actually easier to outrun a monster that’s used to crawling.
I can hear her heels clacking across the floor as I drag my sweatpants back up and cut through a nearby classroom, anticipating her next move.
There’s a side door in here that puts me in front of Scarlett, causing her to come up short.
She does an admirable job of spinning and taking off, making it around another corner before spotting Ash.
Scarlett hesitates for a split second, debating whether to keep running from me or to chase Ash. She doesn’t even stop running, just slows enough that I get the opportunity to barrel into her. I snatch Scarlett up by the arms and drag her through the open door of a nearby classroom.
In the yellow-orange flicker of the broken streetlights, I throw her over that desk and take her pants down. I’m not sure if she’s holding back because she wants to be fucked as badly as I want to fuck, or if I really caught her. Doesn’t matter.
My fingers tighten on her neck again as I push my pants out of the way and mount her.
The desk is bolted to the floor (for security reasons), so there’s no give as I rail Scarlett into the side of it.
She can’t talk. Can barely breathe. I’ve got a hold of her hips and I’m merciless, claiming and pleasuring at the same time. We’re both riddled in goose bumps.
Widow’s boots are loud as he stalks into the classroom, pacing back and forth in front of the desks. Prowling. I ignore him in favor of claiming my sweet little corpse bride in front of him. I tap a finger against her jugular, whispering into her ear and knowing she’ll love this.
“He thinks I’m assaulting you,” I breathe and Scarlett ripples like a plucked string, vibrating for me. I stroke her carotid, delicate with her neck in a way that I’m not with her pussy. If she’s too sore for other men then whose problem is that?
Certainly not mine.
There’s a vulgar squelch with each slam of my hips against her ass. Proof that she’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Widow kicks the side of the teacher’s desk, denting it as I cover Scarlett’s mouth, cutting off her sounds of pleasure.
“Scarlett, I watched you, followed you, wanted you, for longer than you know,” I say in a freakish, sex-drugged pant.
Entirely honest in front of Adrian, holding nothing back.
“You were already fucked when you came to me for help with the drunk driver.” I lick her ear, reminding her of all her sins with my dick buried inside her cunt.
Scarlett needs a moment every now and then to relax, a space where she doesn’t have to be queen.
This is my time to shine, in the shadows. This is my moment to rule her—with permission.
Just like I grant her permission to rule me outside of sex.
My hand tightens against Scarlett’s mouth as she reaches up, trying to pry my fingers off. She doesn’t want to hear it, but she needs to.
“You were already mine. I saw you. I wanted you. You became my obsession and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.” I bite onto the side of her neck, hard enough that she flinches with the pain and then relaxes into the slow, lazy swirl of my tongue.
“Whether you wanted it or not, you were mine. I didn’t need or care for your permission.
But having it the way I do now? I’m honored. ”
I drag my hand away from her mouth and sit up, grabbing onto Scarlett’s hips.
I have no intention of letting her talk.
My body pounds into her with the cold, hard truth of my words.
Briefly, Widow fades away and the school goes with it. My instinct tells me that he’s there to watch my back and nothing else. I don’t have to be wary of him. I can trust him.
Scarlett’s scream echoes through the empty building, drowned out by the music in the gym, as I make her cum.
Her body thrashes wildly, hands clawing at the desk, skin taut with pleasure.
I don’t give her sensitive body a single second to rest, forcing another orgasm through by holding her down as she fights me. Making her take what she wants anyway.
After the second orgasm, she’s feral and psychotic, using every dirty trick in the book to escape me. Biting. Drawing blood. Flailing and bruising me. Managing to lurch forward across the desk, so that I nearly slip out. Cursing my name.
I rake out another orgasm from my soulmate, buried inside of her in more ways than one. We’re tangled rib cages and thorny black roses, two ghosts haunting the same house, two bodies in the same coffin.
My balls tighten as I release her squirming form abruptly, confident in my knowledge of this woman.
She’s as greedy and possessive and jealous over me as I am her.
Even though she could escape my orgasm if she wanted, save herself a pussy full of my hot cum, Scarlett shoves her hips back and grinds against me until she gets what she wants. My seed, her seed, our seed, all these fluids mixed together between our churning hips.
“You bastard,” she breathes finally, cheek-down on the desk with her overalls around her ankles.
No panties. I love the way her back rises and falls as she struggles to calm her racing pulse.
I love the way her pussy clenches in time with her breaths even more.
My cum is squeezed out of that tight channel, a cream pie dripping down and out of her pink hole.
My gaze shifts to Widow, backing away into the hall, his eyes wild with horror.
Looks like he’s seen a ghost.
I feign a yawn, hiding my grin behind my hand. Not a ghost. Two of them.
My laughter echoes as loudly as Scarlett’s orgasmic moan as she scrambles to her feet, yanking her overalls up as she starts running.
Chasing Widow when he flees the scene.
I tuck my wet cock into my sweatpants, rise to my feet, and pop a cigarette between my lips.
Time to find Mr. Kelly.
No. No.
Mr. Force.