Chapter 29 Dread #2
“See? No one can see you,” I assure, my tone mocking and amused while I plant my hands on either side of the window, imprisoning her between my arms. My cock is already hard and throbbing, and her panic only serves to excite me further.
She’s stiff and makes another attempt to slide out from in front of me, but with a simple press of my hips into her backside, she’s firmly pinned.
“Dread, let me out,” she hisses through gritted teeth, her voice pitching with anxiety.
I tip my chin down until my lips brush against the shell of her ear, which she tries and fails to shrink from. “What are you afraid of them seeing?” I ask quietly. “The two of us together?”
“I don’t want them seeing me at all,” she snarls, her back pushing into me, as if that’s going to get her farther away from the window.
“Hm, see, I have a problem, though,” I say. “I told them you’re going to have my babies one day.”
“So?” she snaps, her angry breath fogging the glass. “You say a lot of shit.”
My tone is deep and sinister as I whisper, “I don’t think they believe me.”
Her pulse thumps heavily against her throat—hard enough for me to see it. It makes my mouth water, and after sliding her blonde strands to the side, I can’t deny myself the pleasure of biting into it.
A sharp gasp leaks past her lips, and she quivers beneath me, her hands flying to the window to ground herself. My eyes flutter, and I moan around her delicate skin as I suck, having missed her sweet tuberose scent and the feeling of her trapped beneath me.
She tastes so fucking good.
“Dread, stop it,” she breathes, though her ass presses into my dick harder, betraying her words.
Releasing her neck, I grab the edge of her T-shirt and harshly pull it up to her collarbones, taking her sports bra with it. Then, I shove her bare breasts against the cool glass, earning another sharp gasp that quickly bleeds into a squeal.
“Dread!”
My name shakes with panic, and she wiggles fiercely but gains nothing except making my dick harder.
I have no intention of letting a single soul see her like this, but I also have no intention of letting her know that.
“I think this will convince them, no?” I muse, setting my amusement free. “Letting them watch me fuck you and fill you with my cum.”
She bucks against me in response, biting out a few colorful insults.
Grinning, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and shove them down with her panties in tow, pleased by how easily she’s made it to get her naked.
“I swear to fucking God, Dread. I’m going to kill yo—”
“Step out,” I order, pinning the garments with my foot so she can pull her legs free from them.
“No.”
I sigh. “Baby, if you think keeping them on will give you a chance to pull them up before a reporter sees you, you’re underestimating their reflexes with a camera button. Step out, or I open this window and call them over here.”
The little growl beneath her breath is the only indication she gives of relenting before she angrily pulls her feet out from the shorts and underwear.
“See, baby? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I purr, grinning when she shoots a glare over her shoulder from the condescension in my words. “Now stand on the books.”
She peers down at them, and in the glass reflection, her brows pinch with confusion. “Why?”
“Because I asked you to, Reverie,” I respond firmly, an edge creeping into my tone.
My feelings are still very much hurt.
“Dread, just fuck me on the bed,” she whines, her brows pinching with anxiety.
“And then what? You go back to acting like we’re roommates again? Are you going to keep pretending like you don’t have feelings for me, too?”
“Is this supposed to convince me to have feelings for you?” she snaps, her voice pitching with panic. She keeps her eyes locked outside the window in case someone shows up.
“No,” I growl. “Because you already fucking do, Reverie. This is just what happens when you shut down and act like you don’t. Now, step up on the goddamn books.”
“Ugh!” She does so angrily, stomping her little feet and lining up her hips with mine perfectly.
Her attitude is so fucking cute sometimes.
I bite back a smile and grab the underside of her left thigh, propping her foot on the edge of my desk.
A breath shudders out of her, nervous energy radiating from her pores. Still, no one is outside, though she seems to have trouble finding relief in that.
“If I reach between your legs, what will I feel?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“A vagina,” she states, attempting dryness in her tone, but the breathless quality ruins the effect.
Keeping my eyes on the alleyway, I lean toward her ear again.
“And is she soaked for me?” I softly trail the tips of my fingers down the underside of her hiked thigh, eliciting a harsh shiver from her.
“You might as well be sticking your dick in sandpaper,” she bites out. Her voice is strained, as if she’s trying to suppress her true emotions.
I’ve had enough of her doing that.
A contemplative hum vibrates deep in my chest as my fingers near her pussy. The closer I get, the more her breath hitches, and the choppier it becomes.
“You better be careful about lying to me, darling. Any second, someone can snap a picture, and the entire world will see the truth,” I warn darkly.
The barest of brushes against her slit proves me right. She’s fucking sopping wet, and her slick arousal has my knees nearly crashing to the floor.
I close my eyes for a moment while I take a rake to my mind and desperately scrape up my control. But just like brittle, dead leaves, so much of it slips through the cracks, and a tortured groan releases from my throat.
She tries so hard to deny me, to reject that she feels anything other than contempt for me. But the truth pours from her weeping cunt, and she has no more control over the way it slips through my drenched fingers than the fucking dead leaves in my head.
She and I, we’re exactly the same.
Two people falling in love yet wanting to hate one another so badly, all we can do is relate.
My middle finger drifts over her clit and circles over it softly, just barely touching, but enough to further disrupt the flow of breath sawing in and out of her lungs.
“I’ve grown tired of listening to your lies,” I say, my voice soft yet wicked. “You can spread them over my cock instead.”
“Is that how it works?” she pants, the words steeped in anger. “Does that mean you’re fucking me with yours?”
My upper lip twitches as I shove my sweats and boxers down just enough to free myself. I’m so fucking swollen, it hurts, but I resist and slide the tip along her wet heat, relishing how, even when her mouth denies me, her body can’t.
“I’m not the fucking liar of the two of us,” I growl.
Her spine arches, seeking me out even when she tries to distance herself from me.
“You’ve spent more than half of your life hating me and then suddenly expect me to believe you’ve stopped after a few fucks?
” she bites out, her voice trembling. “You can make your comments about marrying me and getting me pregnant, but I know you, Dread. I know how much you want to break me, and what’s worse than breaking my heart? ”
Something dark and ugly boils in the pit of my stomach. Maybe because I can only blame myself for making her feel that way, but also because it feels like she’s trampling all over me again. I hand her my broken pieces, and she throws them back in my face.
Bitterness coats my tongue as I line myself up and plunge inside her.
A loud, almost startled outcry bursts from her throat, and she quickly covers her mouth. Her rounded stare locks on to the alleyway below, and I know she’s teetering between the irrational panic because they’ve somehow heard her and the feel of my cock stretching her.
Meanwhile, I’m consumed by utter euphoria. It takes monumental effort to keep my eyes from crossing. I’d love nothing more than to close them and lose myself in her completely, but I refuse to risk anyone seeing her for even a second.
Gritting my teeth, I focus on the ground two stories below and clutch her hips in a bruising grip. I’m only halfway inside her, but her pussy is too little to take all of me at once.
“Did you forget where I come from?” I ask quietly.
Slowly, I drag out of her to the tip then slam inside her again, pushing deeper into her tight heat. Our synonymous moans fog the glass briefly, and the pleasure tightening my balls is sharp.
“Everything I am, and everything I’ve ever had, is broken,” I rasp, my voice hoarse. “I only wanted to break you because I never planned to keep you. But that’s changed now, darling. I don’t want to be invited into your heart just to live inside another broken home.”
A distressed whimper bleeds from her throat, and she shakes her head, unable to give a voice to whatever she’s feeling.
I work myself inside her in short, hard pumps while her staccato gasps and moans pitch higher the deeper I get. Then, I feel her inner walls give, allowing me to seat myself completely inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, suppressing the urge to come as furiously as a bursting pipe.
I’ve never met someone who makes it so goddamn impossible to stay both hard and soft. I can come just thinking about her, but within minutes, I’m ready to go again, only for the cycle to repeat.
She quivers around me, and her hips roll back against me. I withdraw slowly and slam back inside her in one, quick thrust.
“Oh, my God,” she rushes out, almost sounding panicked.
I don’t let her recover and repeat the motion over and over, earning curses and yelps every time. Gradually, her eyes flutter and her head tips back, losing herself to the acute sensation of each thrust.
With that simple action, she’s put all her trust in me not to let someone see her. No matter how much she fights me—how desperately she holds on to the vision of me as a monster—her body has already accepted me as hers, and there are no words for how fucking feral that makes me.