Chapter 19 #3
“That feel good?” There's no cocky lilt to his tone or teasing nature, though it's not lacking in confidence. It's raw and genuine, like he's checking on me and willing to take direction if needed.
I don't know why it's so attractive, but it turns me on so much more.
“Yes,” I breathe, nodding my head vigorously as I tug on his hair.
“Yeah?”
Again, there's an undertone of seeking confirmation, but this time it’s like he just needs to hear how good he makes me feel.
“Yeah, yeah, it feels so good.”
His response is a pleased moan that sends shivers down my spine.
The surrounding air has thickened until it feels like I'm inhaling steam rather than oxygen, though it's lined with static electricity that zaps every one of my nerves as it invades my insides.
Sweat dampens my nape, and a thin layer coats our skin, only intensifying the energy as euphoria commands our oscillating hips.
His mouth latches onto the column of my throat, trading between bites that border on painful, wet kisses, and sucking at the delicate flesh. He travels up to the underside of my jaw and then captures my lips in another searing kiss.
It's nothing like the way he's kissed me before. There's a desperation to it now, as if we only have seconds to live.
Then, he angles his hips the slightest bit, the tip of his cock hitting a spot that has my head kicking back and eyes rolling, wrenching my mouth away as utter bliss consumes me.
“Oh my God,” I choke out. “Yes, like that.”
“Yeah, like that?” he murmurs, watching me carefully. “How about right here?”
He shifts again, and I realize he was only skirting the edge of the spot before. Now, it feels like he's directly hitting the target. It sends my spine bowing while a loud moan tears out of my throat.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, right there. Stay right there,” I plead, my voice pitching higher as my eyes roll back further.
Tingles spread throughout my core, and my muscles tense as the pleasure intensifies until I'm tasting colors and seeing sounds.
It's so incredibly blissful, it brings a smile to my face as he pushes that button over and over.
I never want it to end, never want to feel anything else.
I would do terrible, evil things to stay just like this forever.
“Fuck, that's s-so good, Kellan. Oh my God, please don't stop, please don't stop.”
He must hear the fear of losing this feeling in my tone.
“I got you, baby,” he soothes, the deep timbre of his voice sending a shiver down my spine as he skirts his lips along my jawline. “I know what this sweet little pussy needs.”
Our eyes connect as he lifts his head to brush his lips over mine, sending my heart soaring straight out of my throat.
He keeps his pace consistent, never faltering or losing his angle. It's almost torturous how slow the ascension is, yet it’s so fucking perfect, the way he draws it out.
Then one hand slides between us, and his thumb presses into my clit, rubbing firm circles that send my eyes crossing.
My mouth drops open, silent for several moments before a stuttered, choked moan comes free, and my entire body quakes as I draw closer to yet another devastating orgasm.
His upper lip pulls up into a scowl, and a low grumble emits from his throat, staring at me with a primal sort of hunger.
“Ooooh, Ke—fuu—”
The sad attempt ends in a squealed scream, my eyes pinching shut as ecstasy tightens my core.
“That’s it, that's it,” he encourages, his rough voice hushed but urgent. “You can take it, baby.”
His thumb moves faster until I'm panting out cries, the pleasure coming to a sharp point. His brow furrows and his jaw falls open, sonorous moans painting my lips. His pace quickens, grinding into me with a passion, as if he's creating a masterpiece inside me with every stroke of his cock.
The last thing I hear before the pressure bursts is a tortured groan, and him saying, “Fuuucck, Reverie.”
Every muscle in my body seizes, and my inner walls contract around him with a ferocity that reflects the carnage inside me.
I think I scream his name, but I also think I'm shattering into tiny pieces, and it could just be the sound of them hitting the floor.
Our bodies tremble viciously against one another as he lifts me further onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me and burrowing his face into my neck as we come undone.
By the time I come down, I'm dizzy, breathless, shaking hard enough to rattle my bones. My entire body buzzes, and there’s a low ringing in my ears. I’ve never been in the vicinity of an explosion, but I imagine this is what it’d feel like to stand too close.
We eventually slump, and he carefully sets me back to lean against the door. My head thumps back against it again with a heavy exhale.
I’m covered in sweat, and it feels like all my bones have melted. I’m delirious and truthfully, deranged.
Because what the fuck.
This… Whatever the fuck that was… I don’t even fucking know.
He lifts his head and straightens, and I take that as a fantastic opportunity to cross my arms over my face with a groan.
He cheated.
He pushed me away from the desk, and that was definitely fucking cheating.
Who cares if I was two seconds from coming? I didn’t yet, so it shouldn’t count.
“You cheated.”
I feel rather than see him plant his hands against the door on either side of my head. His breath fans across my neck, and it takes effort to suppress the shiver from racking my body.
His voice is deep and throaty as he asks, “How far did you get into the paperwork before you begged me not to stop so you could come?”
My face burns, and it takes several seconds to muster up a response. “Doesn’t matter. You pushed me away from the desk prematurely.”
He lets out a breathless chuckle. Probably because I sound like a pouting child.
“Do you want a redo?”
“No,” I snip.
“I think it’s very fair to say you were going to lose, even if I let you shower me with your cum at that moment.”
My cheeks burn hotter, and I press my arms deeper against my face so I don't have to see his soaked hoodie. Instead, I clench my jaw, refusing to answer. Mainly because I know he’s right, and I’m torn between being devastated, pissed, and embarrassed.
I should’ve fucking known to bargain with something else. It was easy to forget just how intense his mouth feels when I’ve refused to think about it as much as humanely possible. I also should’ve known purely by his confidence. He never would’ve sent that damn voice clip if he knew he wouldn’t win.
And the fucker was right.
This time, I can’t even hate him. I just hate myself.
I stiffen when he grabs my hips and lifts me up to slide out of me with a quiet hiss. The rush of liquid shouldn’t come as a surprise, yet I never expected it to be… so much.
Now, my entire face is on fire, and I try my best to ignore it—him—and just pray he leaves so I can go back to being numb again. It was nice for the short time it lasted, but I suspect it’s also why Dread challenged me. It’s not so fun to break me down when I have no reaction to it.
“Stay right there.”
I would prefer to die and sink into the floor instead, but staying put suffices. I crack open an eye long enough to see him get to his feet, pull up his pants, and adjust his clothing again before disappearing into my bathroom.
I briefly hear running water, followed by his footsteps. I still don't look at him, even when I feel the warm press of a rag against my thighs.
The silence is thick as he cleans me up. There's the distinct sound of the rag hitting my hamper, and then he scoops me into his arms again. My hand flies to his shoulders for balance as he stands. Before I can ask what the hell he’s doing, he carries me to the bed and plops me on the mattress.
Then, he bends and grabs my underwear and jeans he left on the floor, handing them over to me. I waste no time pulling them on again while he steps over to the desk to look down at my paperwork.
I can feel myself getting defensive, but because I don’t have a good excuse, I just get angrier instead.
“You can leave now,” I snap while rebuttoning my jeans.
When I’m finished, I toss his coat at him, ignoring his grin when it hits his chest, then focus on making my bed from when…
whoever… fucked it up, just to give myself something to do.
Dread fixed the sheet while I was lying on it earlier, but now I feel compelled to tuck the bedding in so tightly, a quarter could bounce off it.
He watches me silently for a few moments, mirth swirling in his gaze, but I pointedly ignore him.
“You’ve had this room for two seconds, and he already found it. You’re not staying here,” he says casually.
My blood simmers, slowly crawling to a boil as I aggressively fluff my pillow, practically punching it.
“I’m not staying with you,” I tell him.
I hear him approach me, and then I feel him. His presence is so goddamn strong and overwhelming. I just wish I could snuff it out like a metal cup over a flame.
I freeze when his fingers whisper across my nape, brushing my hair over my shoulder. Goosebumps cover my entire body in a second flat, and I suppress the urge to shiver.
However, I don’t contain my exhale that’s rife with irritation.
There’s an extremely prominent ache in my core, a constant reminder he manipulated his way inside me yet again, and as a result, it’s taking effort to move and walk normally. Those two things make it very frustrating that he’s touching me again.
“We’re not going back to my dorm right now. We have somewhere else to go, and then I have practice after,” he says quietly in my ear.
“No,” I clip.
He’s trapping me between the bed and him, making it almost impossible to escape without shoving him away first or kneeing him in the balls.
I know from experience that he’s a fucking mammoth, basically impossible for me to move, so the first option is out.
As for the second, I'm admittedly extremely terrified of the repercussions, especially when him wanting to fuck me is a slightly better scenario than him wanting to kill me.
But only slightly.
My breath falls short when his fingers come around to my front, lifting the bottom of my shirt just enough to drag them lightly over my bare skin toward the button of my jeans.
Clenching my jaw, I close my eyes and work hard to ignore the electricity his touch ignites, the heavy tension weighing down my bones.
“Dread,” I growl in warning.
“If you don’t want to put your coat and shoes on, I’m happy to get you naked instead. I’ll suck on your pretty tits this time, bite them while you bounce on my cock—I know how happy that’d make you.”
It should be biologically impossible for a sore vagina to get wet again. Aren’t our bodies designed to protect us? I don’t understand why something that hurts would demand more of the thing that made it hurt.
Especially when that thing is attached to the actual devil.
“Or how about you just leave?” I bite out.
“Mmm, don’t recall that one being an option.”
My fingers curl into my palms, and my knuckles bleach white from how hard I squeeze them. I’m on the verge of swinging and punching him when my coat appears in front of me.
“It might be somewhere you want to go. Maybe to get answers.”
With another irritated sigh, I snatch the coat. He retreats instantly with a devilish chuckle, only prodding at my raw nerves.
I shrug it on and then turn to find my socks and boots already in front of me. It’s impossible not to have anger injected into my every movement as I sit on the bed to tug on the socks, shove my feet in the boots, and tie the laces.
When I’m finished, he’s right before me, holding out his hand. I glance at it as if it’s a snake before looking up at him like he’s the idiot snake.
He cocks a brow, and I really wish I could punch him in the eye right now.
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” He wiggles his fingers impatiently, and something about seeing Dread’s fingers wiggle at me is very off-putting.
I regard him carefully. “Tell me now.”
“Reverie. Grab my hand, or I throw you over my shoulder,” he warns, his tone deepening with impatience.
Always with the fucking ultimatums.
However, I choose option C.
Ignoring his offer, I sidestep him with an annoyed sigh to head for the door.
He allows me to open it and step out into the hallway before he’s forcefully snatching my hand and closing the door behind him. He holds tight, preventing me from dislodging it, despite how hard I try to yank it free.
God, his hand really is like a snake. He has the grip of a fucking python. Or maybe he's a leech, since he's so goddamn draining.
I grind my teeth and exhale heavily through my nose, settling a hard look on him. “You’re a leech.”
He’s unfazed as he drags me down the hallway. The dorm buildings are all identical, and they put me on the second floor again, though not as far down the hallway.
“Considering I just sucked on that sweet little clit of yours and made you squirt all over me, I’d have to agree with you.”
My face twists with distaste while he smirks. There’s definitely a reaction in both my heart and stomach, but I refuse to acknowledge it, instead concentrating on keeping my brain from recalling any memories of twenty minutes ago.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I snap.
The way he flicks another look at me suggests he knows exactly why I changed the subject.
“We’re going to visit Roxi. I’d like to meet her before I see her face on the news.”