Tahlia #2
My thighs quake, shame and heat tangling hot between my legs as he drags me harder, faster, grinding me against him until my breath stutters. The shard trembles in my grip, blood slicking my fingers, my hand shaking between fear, hate, and the sick twist of hunger.
I want to cut him.
I want to fuck him.
I want to ruin him the way he’s ruined me.
His voice curls around me again, low and vicious, his lips brushing the bloodied edge of glass like he’s daring me to press harder.
“Do it. Cut me. Bleed me. But don’t you dare stop grinding on me, little fairy. You were made for this war.”
His hips buck up sharp, grinding me down harder, cock pressed thick and merciless against my soaked pussy, and a broken cry claws up my throat before I can choke it back.
The shard presses deeper. His cock drags harder. My body trembles, trapped between the edge of a blade and the promise of his ruin.
And for the first time, I’m not sure which one I want more.
The shard shakes in my grip, his blood slicking my palm. His cock grinds up against me again, thick, shameless, dragging through the thin ruin of fabric still clinging to my cunt. My thighs spasm. My breath stutters. My hate burns.
“You think pressing your cock against me gives you power?” I snarl, pressing the shard deeper into his throat until a bead of crimson wells and slides down his skin. My voice splinters between rage and hunger. “You think this makes you king? All it makes you is desperate.”
His laugh rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating against my thighs where I straddle him. His eyes blaze dark and feral, blood dripping down his neck and into the papers crumpled beneath us.
“Oh, little fairy,” he growls, his hands crushing my waist, dragging me harder along his cock. “Desperate is what you look like grinding on me with a blade in your hand. Desperate is the way your cunt’s soaking me through my trousers while your mouth spits lies.”
I bare my teeth at him, shoving the glass harder against his throat until it breaks skin wider, a thin line painting his collarbone. “I could kill you right now.”
“And miss this?” he snarls back, his hook dragging slow, deliberate up my thigh, cold steel kissing my skin until it rests just beneath the hem of my ruined gown.
His eyes hold mine, daring, taunting, burning.
“Go on, little fairy. Spill me open. But we both know the only thing you want spilling is between your legs.”
The shard trembles in my hand. My hips betray me, rolling once against him, slick soaking his cock through the fabric. Heat floods me, filthy and unwanted, and his smile curves sharp at the sound that breaks out of me.
He leans up, his breath hot against my ear, words a knife sliding under my ribs.
“You don’t want freedom,” he whispers. “You want ruin. And ruin wears my name.”
His hand leaves my waist and slips lower, rough fingers dragging over the soaked heat between my thighs, smearing me open over the ridge of his cock. The shard slips in my grip. My body jerks, traitor, grinding down against him with a cry I can’t choke back.
“Say it,” he murmurs, fingers pressing firmer, sharper, circling my clit through the ruined lace. “Say you want it.”
My head thrashes, shame and hunger tangling, glass biting his throat, my cunt riding his cock harder now because I can’t stop. My voice tears out broken, furious, filthy:
“Fuck you—”
He grips my throat with his bloodied hand, squeezes just enough to make my voice crack, his cock grinding up between my soaked folds, his hook still poised at my thigh. His smile is wicked, merciless.
“You already are.”
The words detonate inside me, filthy, final, undeniable—and my hips betray me completely.
I grind down on him, wild, broken, desperate, the shard slipping bloody from my hand as my body takes over, as ruin drowns out every lie I tried to cling to.
The shard clatters from my hand, forgotten in the wreckage. His blood stains my fingers, but it’s the heat between my thighs that consumes me now. I grind harder against him, the thick ridge of his cock straining against his trousers, dragging over my clit until sparks explode behind my eyes.
His grip on my throat tightens, thumb stroking the bruise he left there. His laugh is ragged, half-snarl, half-groan, his head tipping back as I move faster, desperate, ruined, lost.
“Look at you,” he growls, hips jerking up into mine, meeting my rhythm. “Bleeding, filthy, soaking my cock like it belongs to you. All that hate pouring out of your mouth, but your cunt’s writing love letters across me.”
I bite down on a sob, grind harder, nails digging into his chest until the skin breaks, until I leave my own marks in him.
His eyes flash, wild, hungry, and he rasps through gritted teeth, “Do you want to ride me, little fairy?”
The words slam into me, brutal and filthy, making my hips jerk harder, shameless now, grinding against him like I’ll die if I stop. A sound tears out of my throat, half scream, half moan, raw and desperate.
“Answer me,” he snarls, dragging me harder along his cock, each grind harder, filthier, wetter than the last. “Do you want to sink down on me until your body forgets it ever belonged to anyone else?”
I can’t speak. My voice is shredded. All I can do is move—grind, buck, ride him through the ruin of blood and paper like I’ve been starving my whole life.
His jaw clenches, veins standing in his neck, his control fraying as I use him the way he’s always used me.
His cock twitches against me, straining, aching to be inside, but he doesn’t give it yet.
He lets me drive him insane with every frantic grind, his hook pressing cold into my thigh like a threat, his fingers bruising my throat like a collar.
“Fuck,” he snarls, head snapping forward, forehead pressed hard against mine, breath hot and broken. “You’re going to ride me tonight, little fairy. You’re going to ruin yourself on me until you can’t even remember what it felt like to fight me.”
I gasp, hips rolling harder, chasing it, burning in it, drowning in it.
And for the first time, he looks undone beneath me.
His cock strains thick and furious beneath me, soaking through his trousers where I’ve been grinding him raw. My thighs shake, my pussy throbs, slick soaking down my legs, and still it isn’t enough. I need more. I need all of him.
He feels it too. His control snaps like the mirror I shattered.
With a guttural snarl, his hands leave my throat only long enough to tear at the fastening of his trousers. Fabric rips, buttons scatter, and then he shoves them down just far enough to free himself—thick, swollen, wet at the tip with hunger.
My breath shreds out of me, my nails biting into his chest, but he doesn’t give me time to think. He grips my hips hard, lifts me like I weigh nothing, and drags me down.
I gasp, the head of him stretching me wide, tearing me open in one brutal thrust. My scream breaks into the air, my body clenching tight, slick spilling down his length as he fills me.
He growls, low and vicious, head tipping back, his teeth bared as he sinks deeper. “Fuck—look at you. Taking me like you were built for it.”
I shudder, the shock of it forcing my nails deeper into his skin. Blood beads under my fingertips, streaking down his chest, mixing with mine.
He grips my waist, drags me down harder, grinding me into his cock until I’m seated full, stretched wide, stuffed with every inch of him. His laugh is ragged, savage.
“There she is,” he snarls, slamming me down once more, my body clenching, betraying me with the way it grips him. “My little fairy. Riding me bloody, riding me broken, riding me like you’ve been waiting your whole life to split yourself open on me.”
A sob rips from my throat, half-pleasure, half-shame, my hips already moving without my permission. Grinding. Lifting. Slamming back down on him with desperate abandon.
He groans, hook clenching against my thigh, his eyes wild as he watches me. “That’s it. Use me. Fuck yourself on me until your body forgets every lie you ever told yourself.”
I ride him harder, faster, my hair sticking to my face, my breath tearing ragged as his cock splits me open again and again. Each thrust drives me deeper into the papers and glass, every movement a signature in blood, in ruin, in heat.
His hand fists my hair, yanking my head back, his teeth scraping my throat as he growls, “Do you feel that? That’s power. Not ink. Not paper. Not chains. Just me—inside you. Owning you in the only way that matters.”
I break again, hips snapping wild against him, grinding harder, losing myself in the filth and fury of it, my body riding him like he’s both my executioner and my salvation.
His cock slams into me again and again, each thrust brutal, relentless, forcing my body to take more than it should. My thighs burn, my nails carve him bloody, my pussy clenches so tight I can feel him throbbing inside me.
He grips my hips, dragging me down harder, making me ride him at his pace, his rhythm—merciless, consuming. The papers crumple beneath us, the ink smears across my thighs, and glass bites into my knees, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
“You hate me?” he snarls, sweat slicking his chest, blood streaking his throat where I cut him. His eyes burn wild. “Then hate me with your cunt, little fairy. Hate me while you choke on how deep I am inside you.”
I sob, broken, riding him harder, my body grinding down until the sound of skin slamming fills the cage. Shame twists sharp in my chest, but heat burns hotter, clawing through me, shattering me from the inside out.
He leans up, teeth scraping my jaw, words dripping filth straight into my veins. “Do you feel it? Every time you clench, you’re begging me to stay. Every cry out of your mouth is just another confession.”
I shake my head, gasping, tears streaking down my face, but my hips move faster, frantic, desperate, grinding against him like I’m starving.
He laughs—low, guttural, feral. His hook presses cold against my spine as his other hand fists my hair, yanking me down until his lips are at my ear.
“Come for me, little fairy,” he growls, voice like a command carved from stone. “Drown my cock in it. Sign the contract with your fucking body.”
My scream rips out, raw, shattered. My cunt seizes around him, spasms violent, soaking him in everything I swore I’d never give. My body betrays me completely, clinging to him, gripping him, breaking for him.
He snarls, hips snapping up into mine, dragging me through it, forcing me to ride him even as I convulse. His cock slams deeper, harder, his voice a whip against my ear.
“That’s it. That’s mine. Every drop, every twitch, every scream—you belong to me.”
My body collapses forward, shaking, my face pressed into his chest as I come undone, wet desire flooding down my thighs, my pussy choking him in waves that don’t stop. My nails dig deeper, blood and sweat mixing between us, my sobs muffled against his skin.
And he doesn’t let me stop. He drags my hips harder, forces me to ride out every spasm, every tremor, until I’m sobbing into his chest, spent, broken, ruined—yet still trembling for more.
He bites my throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to mark, and growls against my skin:
“Good little fairy. You’ll cum for me every time.”
His cock pistons into me, harder now, deeper, every thrust a demand, every grind a punishment. My body is wrecked, shuddering, overstimulated, but I won’t stop—not now. I grab his shoulders, nails splitting skin, and slam myself down on him, harder, faster, dragging him to the edge with me.
“Cum,” I gasp, my voice broken but fierce, every word a slash of defiance. “Fill me. Ruin me. I want you to finish inside me so you’ll never fucking forget who made you lose control.”
His eyes blaze, teeth bared, his chest heaving under me. My pussy clenches tighter, dragging him down into my spiral. I grind harder, filthier, until his jaw locks, until his grip on my hips bruises bone.
“Do it,” I snarl, breathless, sweat dripping down my face. “Spill inside me like the desperate monster you are. Mark me. Own me. Bleed into me. Fucking prove it.”
His groan rips out feral, guttural, his cock throbbing so hard it feels like it’s splitting me open. He bucks up into me, again, again, each thrust brutal, final, inevitable.
And then he breaks.
His roar tears the silence wide open, his body seizing under mine, his cock spilling hot and violent deep inside me. My head snaps back at the force of it, my thighs trembling, my body choking down every drop he gives me.
And as he comes undone, his hand fists my hair, yanking my face down to his, his mouth crashing against mine in a kiss so savage it cuts my lip. His voice shreds raw against my mouth, the words ripping me apart more than his cock ever could:
“I’ve loved you since the first time I wanted to kill you.”
The sentence detonates inside me, hotter than blood, sharper than glass. My scream answers his, not in hate, not in surrender, but in something far worse—something binding, burning, eternal.
Love and ruin.
Death and worship.
Two monsters bleeding into one.