Chapter 35
Angel
I know she isn’t this careless. She had to have known that I’d be watching from the shadows of the room, but as I watch her stare at the lumps in the bed, I have to question her skill level.
If she’s this blasé about her life, I’m honestly surprised she’s been through as much as she has and survived.
The sound of her pulling her knife raises goosebumps on my arms, the absolute thrill of surprising her making it hard not to move too soon.
The scent of her fear swarms around me, making my cock thicken.
She took her fucking time getting here, but I’ll get vengeance for that soon enough.
The wait, the planning, is all part of the exhilaration.
She doesn’t make a sound as she jumps on the bed, knife held high.
In the darkness, I can’t tell if she’s really willing to kill me over a necklace and the fucked-up ramblings of her dead sister.
I read every word—the hatred she had for her father mixed with the fucked-up love of a young girl being groomed from an early age to think what was happening was right, despite the sickness with it all that threatened to take over many times before she finally got the courage to end it.
I know Lauren has read it too. The pages were flimsy with wear. I know she’s terrorized by what her sister went through, and I almost let myself feel sorry for the things I said to her before and after finding out what her father had been doing to Liana.
Almost.
I don’t want to lose sight of my own plans for Lauren. Hurting her has always been a part of my vision. Those fantasies have kept me awake at night as much as the promise of her return.
I spotted her on my security cameras over an hour ago, and I have to give her kudos for her patience, but she has to know my skills are much better than hers. The FBI can’t train you to know the things inherent to me and my demons.
She gave a good try, however.
Her gasp of realization is music to my fucking ears as I rush her. Like a cobra strike, I’m fast and efficient, covering her back with my body in an instant.
I allow the struggle. Overpowering her immediately isn’t as much fun as making her think she has a chance.
The sweet burn of her knife as it cuts into my arm makes me smile, as does the snarl on her lips when I flip her to her back.
“Hey there,” I whisper, pinning her arms over her head.
She struggles, moving her body in an attempt to dislodge me, but I have over a hundred pounds of muscle on her thin frame.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” she snaps, but her body starts to settle.
I know better than to think she’s already admitting defeat. This is as much of a head game for us as it is a physical one.
“Crazy. I had the same plans for you.”
Her eyes widen with surprise before they narrow to slits.
I hate that I didn’t turn on the fucking lights, that I’m forced to proceed with only the moonlight coming in through the window.
“Did you miss me, baby?” I nuzzle her neck, knowing it will fire her up more than anything else I can do.
She hates me for it, doubling her attempt to get away.
I hate that I like it so fucking much, hate that I want to just hold her like this, that I’m having thoughts of spending time in bed with her curled into my body.
I used to think of Lauren as a virus, something to eradicate like mice in the attic or invasive weeds in the yard.
It wasn’t until I accepted that I liked her brand of crazy that I was able to set my mind at ease.
She isn’t something to rid myself of. She’s my other half. She’s a requirement, a necessity, and as much as I hate it, I also love it. We’ll never be equals, but even knowing that, I’m well aware of the fact that without her, I can’t be me.
“I fucking hate you,” she rasps, her breathing becoming more difficult as I press more of my weight onto her.
She can’t even fool herself at this point when her legs fall open as I settle on her, my thick cock pressing against that needy cunt of hers.
When she turns her head, refusing to look at me, I know she wants to beg for it.
If I weren’t so needy for her myself, I might make an effort to force her to do that, but I’ve been waiting too long for her return.
I no longer have the restraint to make it last, but I mentally add it to my list of things to do later tonight or tomorrow morning.
“How wet are you, you sick twisted bitch?”
“Dry as a fucking bone,” she snaps, even knowing I’m going to prove her wrong.
I can feel the heat of her against me, the wetness that has to be pooling between her thighs.
The fucking jeans she’s wearing are going to be a problem, but I’ve overcome bigger hurdles in my life.
“I want my shit!”
“I’m going to give you everything you want and more,” I promise.
Her body jolts with the declaration, and I know it’s half thrill and half apprehension.
“You could’ve made this easier for me,” I complain as I reposition my hand so I can keep holding her down while I reach for her zipper.
“Never,” she hisses, once again struggling to get away from me.
“That’s my girl.”
Her head snaps up, her teeth locking on my shoulder.
I live in the pain for a few seconds, nearly blowing my load on her stomach when she moans at the taste of my blood on her tongue.
“So fucking dirty,” I praise when she pulls her head back. “My turn.”
I don’t go for her shoulder or pain, rather I lock my lips over her nipple through her shirt.
She whimpers, needy and ready for what I have to give her.
It’s enough of a distraction for her to drop the knife she still had clenched in her fist.
“You’re making this a little too easy for me, baby. Does that mean you want it?” I ask as I use my free hand to pick up the knife.
Her eyes track the movement of the knife, and I want to slap the shit out of her when she angles her neck, giving me more access when I trail it down her cheek.
“Is that what you really want?” I lean in close, my lips brushing hers as I speak.
It’s a dangerous move for me with her penchant for using her mouth to cause pain.
She blinks up at me, and even in the dim light I can see the battle in her eyes.
“You deserve the pain I give you.”
She shakes her head, denying it, but I drop the knife and clench her face roughly in my hands.
She isn’t rejecting the fact that she disagrees with the pain. She feels as if she’s earned it. It’s the fact that she’s getting something she wants, something that feels so fucking right on her skin that she can’t accept.
Being worthy of something isn’t in her vocabulary because she’s been torturing herself for as long as she can probably remember. She doesn’t know anything else.
“Hurt me,” she begs, and I know what it takes for her to do it.
“I’m going to take you nice and slow, baby. Be patient.”
She doubles her efforts to get away just like I knew she would.
I find myself wanting both sides of her—the woman who needs the pain but also the one who desires the soft touches and gentle words, because they make her feel loved not because she’s using them as another form of punishment.
It may take years, but I’m willing to put in the work to achieve both sides of that woman.
She ended things once, muttering the two words I gave her, and I don’t know why she doesn’t whisper them now. Maybe she thinks they won’t make a difference since I just caught her trying to kill me.
She’d be right of course.
That safe word may stop what I’m directly doing, but it will never again be a full release.
I need her, and as long as I do, this woman is mine.
I’d prefer to only have her tied to the bed when we’re playing, but I’m flexible on the idea of hand feeding her and walking her to the bathroom when she needs it for the rest of her life.
“Angel,” she whispers, tears streaming from her eyes and rolling down her temples.
Her plea encompasses so much, and it has so many confessions right on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m going to hurt you.”
She nods.
“I’m going to fuck you raw.”
She nods again.
“I’m going to keep you when I’m done.”
Her eyes lock onto mine.
“I can’t do that,” she finally whispers.
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
More tears flow down her face as she swallows.
“Promise?” she asks on a sob.
“Yeah, baby. I promise.”
A serenity I’ve never seen from her before settles over her features, but it only lasts for a second before she’s back to struggling.
I chuckle as I pick the knife up and cut into her jeans. I don’t make the mistake of releasing her hands because I know she’ll try to claw my eyes out.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” she screams when I cut a hole big enough for my hand to slip through.
I’m met with slickness, her desire as hot and as prevalent as I suspected.
“You run and I’ll chase you to the ends of the fucking earth,” I warn as I release the hand pinning hers above her head. “Now get my tits out.”
I pinch her clit until she winces when she doesn’t obey, and as her hands move to pull up her shirt, I’m met with another rush of wetness on my fingers in her panties.
“Stupid bitch,” I spit, smacking her trembling hands out of the way so I can get the task done faster.
She glares at me, brows drawn, forming a crease between her eyes.
“Keep looking at me like that and I’m going to fuck you nice and slow,” I warn.
The threat has her trying to scramble away, which is fucking perfect because she’s now on her stomach.
I rip at her clothes, leaving them in scraps hanging loose off her body. I don’t need her completely naked. I only need access to that amazing cunt of hers.
“Tell me I’m the only one that can hurt you,” I demand as I smack the tip of my glistening cock on her ass.
“Angel!” she hisses as I spread her cheeks, letting the tip of me skim that forbidden spot of hers.
I’ll fuck her ass at some point, but there’s no reason for her to think I won’t do it right now.
“Tell me,” I growl. “Or I won’t even use lube.”
I press my thumb in, wondering if I need to change my plans when she moans with pleasure.
I may be going about this all wrong. Giving her what she wants, the pain, the degradation, may not be the way to operate when dealing with Lauren. There’s definitely a learning curve where Lauren Vos is concerned, but thankfully I have a lifetime to figure out all the nuances that make her tick.
“Only you can hurt me,” she pants. “So fucking hurt me!”
I slide home, nearly losing my mind when her pussy grips onto me like it has missed me as much I’ve missed her.
My thrusts are hard, as deep as I can manage them. My grip on her ass is punishing, but that’s all I can manage.
My brain has gone offline with the pleasure of being inside her again.
I no longer have to do everything in fear of never experiencing it again. This cunt will be mine to fuck again tomorrow and the next day.
“My pussy,” I growl as I lean over her, taking her throat in my hand as I lean in close to her ear. “Right?”
She chokes from my grip, but even when I loosen my grip, she doesn’t agree.
“You have a lot to learn,” I hiss, my hips jerking forward.
I’m no longer in control of my own body. It’s going to do what it wants.
I can barely manage words or thoughts at this point.
She feels that fucking good.
“It’s fucking mine, Lauren. Tell me.”
She doesn’t.
I fuck her harder, choke her more, pinch her nipples and clit, and the stubborn fucking woman never agrees to the ownership.
She tells me she hates me after she comes and threatens to end my life when I spill inside of her.
“You took out my birth control implant,” she screams. “You’re going to get me pregnant, you piece of shit!”
I lean in closer, my breaths erratic as I bite the tip of her ear just enough to remind her who is in control.
“Didn’t know I had a breeding kink until you just said that.”
My cock thickens again as I roll my hips.
“You can’t,” she argues.
“I’ll do anything with my pussy that I want. It’ll serve you well to just accept it now. It’ll save you a lot of pain.”
Her head rolls, the pillow bunching up under her cheek. “Never.”