19
This bitch is testing me. I shouldn't have gotten involved with her, but fuck, when do I ever think before acting on impulse?
I even kissed her. The fuck? I lick the remainder of the blood from my swollen lip.
What she's not comprehending is that I enjoy the clipped undercurrent of pain.
Her fight was unexpected . . . but not unwanted.
Maybe I've just grown used to the docile, drugged bitches.
Or the bitches who get to their knees for me without a second thought.
My cock is hard as stone, straining against my zipper.
Her fight only further pushes me. Nothing beats burying my dick inside a warm cunt.
Her body is a holy temple I want to defile over and fucking over again.
I wrestle her against the dresser again.
My palm slides up her thigh. She hisses and bats me away when I reach the marks I left on her.
I ignore her protesting whimpers, instead slipping past her thong.
My fingers dip between her slit. Her crystal eyes find mine in the mirror again.
She's vulnerable and I’m fucking here for it.
She's soaked. Fuckkkk . . .
“Such a dirty whore,” I growl into her ear. Her hands dig into the wood varnish. She braces herself for the unholy shit I'm about to do to her.
She tries to claw her way out of my grasp. I know exactly what she needs. My hand leaves her cunt. She lets out a soft exhale. For the shock factor, I shove my arousal soaked fingers down her throat without warning. She gags so beautifully. Her blonde hair sticks to her cheeks.
“That's it. Taste how fucking needy you are for me. Bet you never weeped this much for Val or Silas. This cunt craves abuse, Nightshade. I can offer you pleasure with pain.”
I dig my hand in my pocket and pull out my lighter along with a joint.
I click it open, letting the flame dance over the skin of her bare shoulder blade.
She hisses. I laugh. “Kieran,” she whimpers.
If she wants to play, I'll show her a good time. A lustful haze clouds my vision. I light the joint and take a heavy hit before pocketing the lighter again.
“I know what you need, Nightshade. Feel the pleasure with the pain. They're one in the same.”
Her chest heaves like a wild animal. I want to fuck her now, but like her, I need to alter my state of mind. Courtesy of Mortensen. He’s fucked me up behind recognition.
Her plump lips part. I envision forcing her to take my cock. I might just do that.
No, Kieran.
The less she hates me, the easier it'll be to break the news to her about being the Offering.
I place the joint against her lips. She closes her eyes and takes a big hit. I know she needs to kill that pain of hers. Whatever pills they gave her aren't cycling through her system yet.
Her body goes slack against me. “That's it. Feel that?”
Her droopy eyes track me in the mirror. She nods.
God fucking damnit she looks so vulnerable.
So tempting. The need to own, dominate, and destroy takes over my system.
She's awakened something dark within me.
Something fucked up. I polish off the joint and flick it on the floor.
My cock has already made a wet spot seeping through my boxers.
I run my tattooed hand up her chest, spanning up to her neck. I give her a firm hand necklace, squeezing. She hums.
She likes it. She sinks into a heavy induced state of torpor. I hold her gaze in the mirror. “Keep those sad eyes on me, sweetheart. Understand?”
I should feel relaxed from the weed, but instead I'm restless like a caged lion. My entire body shakes with animalistic need. I might lose my shit. I use my free hand to rip her skirt from her body; it falls in tatters at her heels.
Her lace thong drives me to madness. I pull it to the side then free my throbbing dick from its confines. I waste no time with taking what I want, to fuck away my anger, hatred and feelings. To use her like my beast wants. I'm her villain. My hand squeezes harder along her pulse point.
Her focus drifts in and out. Her plush lips drip drool.
I slam into her with brutal force, rattling the dresser.
Fuck gentle. I can't do it. She lets out a piercing howl when I breach her inner walls, her eyes coming back to life.
She's tight as fuck. I slam into her repeatedly.
I know I'm hurting her, but it's the only way to satiate my savage side.
Her face turns a delightful shade of blue and purple. Just like before . . .
So.God.Damn.Beautiful.
Her nails dig into the wood varnish.
Shit falls off the dresser with each rough thrust. I close my eyes and force myself to drop my hands from her throat before she passes out. Fuck, I want to push her to the edge again. How far can I go with her?
No. Don't be fucking stupid, Kieran. Keep the crazy reigned in.
I snatch her roughly, gripping her wrists, forcing them behind her back.
Her hips are gonna be bruised tomorrow. Can’t bring myself to give a fuck.
If anything, it makes me harder. She whimpers.
Her blonde hair falls over the side of her face in a waterfall.
Tears fall from her eyes, but she remains focused on me like I told her.
Those eyes are an endless void. So broken.
So vitiated. I’m high as fuck, but I've been so fucking lucid.
I use one hand to keep her wrist captive, while using the other to slam her head against the dresser top again.
“This is what you like. Being used. Being fucked. Cry harder, Nightshade. Let me see those tears, baby. I want to hear you,” I pant, pounding into her harder.
I'm on the cusp of orgasm, quicker than I've ever been.
My muscles contract. My vision blurs. She's pulling me down the depths of her hell.
I have to swim to the top before it swallows me whole.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk!
I explode inside of her cunt. Hot ropes of cum spill out, overflowing down her thigh.
She sags against the dresser like a used doll.
I release my hold on her, tuck my cock away and take a step back, waiting for her to move.
She doesn’t. She remains a statue with her hands behind her back with her face pressed against the dresser.
“Get on the damn bed,” my voice shakes with half crazed hysteria and half desire.
If she thought I was finished, she’d be fucking wrong.
It isn't my usual MO to worry about pleasure of the bitches I fuck, but some sick part of me wants to watch as she comes apart for me.
I want to mark her skin again. The fucked up tendencies don't relent from my mind despite release.
She walks robotically to the bed in only her heels, corset, and cum soaked thong. I tilt my head to examine her. I salivate. I want to strip her inner sanctum apart like sinew.
When she doesn't move fast enough, I force her onto her back and climb on top of her.
My legs rest on top of her thighs, holding her captive. I cover her
mouth with my palm.
Her eyes bulge while she claws at my biceps.
I'm twice her size. I chuff. I thought I could resist my tendencies with her.
The lines are starting to blur. I know if I fuck this up Zain and Vesper will lose their shit.
She’s the one toy I can't have but fuck I want to push her. I want to see how far I can go.
“You can breathe . . . for now,” I remind her.
I want to have her to myself and relive my sick fantasies.
I want to push my limits of depravity with her.
I've had my fair share of bitches flip their shit at my twisted ideals.
With her, I don't want to set limits. How far can I go?
How far until she shatters? The endless possibilities swim in my brain.
How long until those lashes are streaked with mascara from my immorality.
I use my free hand to rip the thong from her body. Her cum soaked cunt is bared to me, taunting my sanity.
I reach into my nightstand. Her eyes follow my movements.
Her muffled cries only further push my violent tendencies.
“I know what you're going to say. I'm insane. I'm fucked up. I need therapy. It isn't news,” I scoff, pulling out a large piercing needle from the drawer.
It's been a minute since I've added a new hole to my body.
My ears, cartilage and tongue are fully loaded.
But her skin is virgin. Bare. Her eyes bug out the moment she puts two and two together.
“Indulge me.”