But he goes on and on until I think he’ll never come.
He stops every few minutes to change positions. First, I’m on my side, then I’m lying facedown and he’s on top of me. Next, I’m on all fours, and he’s behind me. The entire time, he bites me—on my breasts, my shoulders, my hips, my thighs—anywhere his mouth can reach.
Finally, he puts me on his lap again and his back straightens. His hand on my throat tightens as his lips trap and suck mine, turning them all bruised.
“Fuck,” he grunts as his hips jerk. “Fucking fuck, I could stay in your cunt forever.”
Then I feel him twitching and releasing deep inside me. He pulls out, then gathers his cum with his fingers and thrusts them back in me. Over and over until I think I’m going to come again.
“We can’t have you wasting any drops.”
I’m half-dazed, not able to make out my surroundings, but I can feel him placing me on the mattress.
I can also feel his warmth gone before he’s back again and something tender is placed between my legs.
A whole-body shudder goes through me when he kisses my folds and whispers against them, “You saved this cunt for me because I’m the only one who gets to own it, baby.”
22
KILLIAN
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound of my fingers drumming on the chair’s armrest flows with a steady rhythm.
But there’s no flicker of serenity in my bones. In fact, the raging storm from earlier has heightened to distances I haven’t experienced before.
The chaos from the house has died down with everyone leaving or scattering all over the property like rats.
And I’m here.
In the semi-darkness—my natural habitat—staring at the girl who’s fucking up my whole system.
Glyndon has been fast asleep since I stuffed her full of my cum. When I pulled out, her blood was all over my cock and the sheets, and that scene made me hard all over again. But since she’s a spoilsport, she passed out.
I didn’t change the sheets. I let her lie there, nude, her legs sprawled and with some dried blood between her thighs. It’s a scene I’ve been watching from my position on the chair opposite the bed while burning one cigarette after the other.
Glyndon is oblivious to the irritating change happening within me—that has little to do with the state of my semi-hard cock—since she continues slumbering. Her swollen lips are slightly parted, her cheeks are a light shade of red, and violet marks cover her tits, her hips, her neck, her stomach, her thighs.
Everywhere.
She’s a map of my creation. A potential masterpiece in the making, and yet, it’s not…enough.
Early on, I knew that I needed stimulation to drown out the constant need for more.
And more.
And fucking more.
Dad noticed my tendencies and put me in high-pressure sports and took me hunting. Those were his solutions to satisfy my inhumane need for euphoria.
However, they couldn’t last for long and the urge outshined them. So I started to fight and fuck every moving human. I took it to hardcore lengths that only exist in snuff movies.
But sex was only a temporary solution. A Band-Aid. A painkiller that lost its effect soon after the act ended. Sometimes, during.
I’d lose interest and the only reason I’d keep fucking was so it would end, hoping, and being disappointed, in a mediocre release.
Oftentimes, sex bored me to tears, even with whips, gags, and ropes.
Oftentimes, I’d go without it for weeks on end because the hassle and drama related to finding a fuckable hole wasn’t worth it.
It wasn’t until that night at the cliff that I had my strongest and fastest release in…forever.
I figured the actual fucking would be more satisfying, but I had no clue that it’d tread into unknown territory. I have good enough deduction skills to realize how much Glyndon turns me on without trying—still can’t pinpoint why exactly—but the attraction is undoubtedly there.
What I didn’t realize, however, is the level of release I could have with her. It’s similar to that first time I cut open the mice and saw what was inside them. It’s the thrill of possessing someone’s life between my fingers. Literally.
I could’ve snapped her fragile throat with a flick of my hand and sent her to a different universe. But instead of fighting as usual, she surrendered to it, and even came because of it.
Glyndon trusted me not to break her neck.
She shouldn’t have.
I don’t usually choke with my bare hands, because even I don’t trust my own strength or bloodlust. My demons could take over at any time and make me kill someone accidentally. And then there would be the hassle of hiding the crime and blah fucking blah.
Impulse control is my forte, but that wasn’t the case when I was inside this fucking girl. My impulse got out of control and I know because I contemplated choking her to death as she was falling apart on my cock.
But she did something.
Something I don’t usually allow, because it chips away at my control.
Glyndon, the seemingly innocent, absolutely clueless little rabbit touched me.
Over and over.
And fucking over again.
She was hesitant at first, quivering like a frail leaf, but the moment I allowed her an inch, she became bold and took a mile.
Her palm was on my chest, my neck, and all over my face. She didn’t stop touching me as I kissed her, bit her lips, and tasted her blood.
She didn’t stop touching me, holding on to me, fucking injecting her venom into my veins until all I could breathe was her arousal and her motherfucking fruity perfume.
I release a long puff of smoke, tilting my head as she rolls to her back, her legs slightly parted. Her pink pussy is in full view, performing some wordless mojo to draw me close.
The thought of anyone but me seeing her in this position tightens my muscles with the need for violence.
My blood boils at the reminder of Gareth’s lips touching hers, slamming against hers, tasting hers before I had the chance to.
Maybe I should incapacitate him, after all, bring him down a notch. Or maybe I need to play on his useless pride and fragile fucking ego so that he won’t ponder touching what’s mine again.
The thought of violence spreads all over my system and I kill the cigarette, then slowly rise from my chair.
Now, I need to point out that the discomfort from my hard-on is a hassle, but I manage to repress the urge to ram into her cunt raw.
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t give a fuck—actually, I wouldn’t want them right after I fucked them anyway.
But for some reason, I don’t want to hurt her further…for now. She was begging me to slow down earlier, crying into the pillow and telling me in that sweet little voice of hers that she couldn’t take it anymore.
And while that turned me on and made her come more times than either of us can count, I probably pushed her beyond her limits.
I settle at the foot of the bed on my knees and grab her ankles, sliding her in my direction.