He tilted his dark head and stopped dancing. I stepped off his feet and watched him as he held out his hand to shake on it. Or so I thought until he gripped my hand and brought it palm up to place a gentle kiss in the soft flesh, "It's a deal."
Oh sweet baby Jesus, what the hell had I just agreed to do? The blood in my body was draining to one place and it was as good of excuse to use as any. When I was around Ryder, I spoke gibberish and my brain was located in my neither region. I had to get away from him and fast, before I did something I would live to regret. You didn’t sleep with a man like Ryder and walk away the same woman you had been before. If I gave in, things would change inside of me, forever.
I turned in time to watch Adrian storm from the room, Adam following close on his heels. Larissa stood silently watching them leave as I did. Ryder's men closed in around us and I wondered at what I had just missed.
~~~~~~~~~~*
Glorious mind fuck, she's addictive. It makes my mind go to places that it hasn’t even fathomed before. She denies me, while denying herself. She's growing weak. I can feel as she trembles against me, her walls coming down slowly even as she struggles to keep them up. The scent of her need makes me want to pull back the delicate petals of her flower and devour it, consume it, fuck it.
She's a drug, a virus in my system that needs to be eradicated. Nothing about her makes sense, she's a walking contradiction. She isn't what they say she is. I'm old enough to know the difference. See the difference. Yet, unable as I am to figure her out—or why her blood calls to me—why? Why should it? If she is what they say she is, the only thing that should respond to her is my cock and yet my mind is on her. Every. Fucking. Minute.
When she came to my room, glorious with need I wanted to take her, make her need my cock more than she needed to breathe and yet I couldn’t. I want her to come to me of her own accord—strange for me, as I take what I want without guilt. Without remorse.
She isn't human, not even fucking close. It's driving me crazy inside trying to figure out what she is. I can feel her hunger, as if something is struggling to get out from under her skin. I can smell her need, raw and unmasked with a desire so fucking hot it makes my cock throb to be buried in her sweetness.
I smell her need, sweet and addictive. She's young, her mind works differently than my own, I need to fuck her—hard. She needs to validate why she should, stupid. Fucking just is, but I don’t think fucking her would be the same as Claire and she was simply food. Syn wouldn't be, she'd be so much more. I can feel the draw, her body calling to mine as animals do in heat. I'd fuck her like an animal, raw, hot and fucking hard.
She made me lose control—again. She shook my hardened exterior and made me want her, impossible feat for someone of my age and hers. It shouldn’t have happened, wasn’t in my plans. She wasn’t in my fucking plans. And yet when I am alone, the only thing I see in my head is her, listening to the hungry noises she made while she dry fucked my cock.
Those red fucking full lips, hard to miss when she speaks, the glorious fucking things they could do—will do. I want to fill her, slow, deliberate, deep, her juices sliding me in further, her spine aching from the fullness of my cock and she succumbs to it until she can take no more, oh but she will, she will take it all, filling her thirsty need to fuck. The electric blue fire that lights in her eyes, I want to watch it as it takes me, feeding my beast, I want to feel her swollen flesh pulsing around mine as she comes for me over and over again, hear those fucking noises as she explodes on my cock.
Maybe I should drain the life from her, watch it recede from her eyes and end this before it goes further. She's an unknown, unpredictable and yet something inside of her is struggling to grow and I find myself wanting to cage her just to watch her fucking struggle and overcome it. She's a puzzle box and I want to take her apart and watch as she puts the pieces back one by one until she is whole again. Why does she draw me in? I've been with thousands of women and wanted to keep none.
None of them drew me like she does. She's quicksand and I am treading into it, quickly. Maybe it's the brand above the worthless one on her neck, maybe it has clues to what she is, or why she attracts. She doesn’t even know it's there. Fucking puzzle box. Addicting.