Page 75 of No Control

“Fuck me like the good girl you are,” he demands, grabbing my hips, lifting me up, and then slamming me down on his cock. I cry at the depth, my fingernails breaking the skin of his chest. I roll my hips, and his eyes become heavy, focused on my face.

As I rock and grind against him, his fingers brush my face, tracing my lips and then shoving a finger inside of my mouth. I suck on it, and he groans out with satisfaction before pulling it from my cavity. Arousal begins to build again in my core as I move against his body, stimulating mine as I fuck his.

I grab his hand resting on my breast and bring it up, placing his fingers around my throat. His lips part as he understands what I’m asking for, and he squeezes, cutting off my oxygen. Heat floods to my pussy, and my eyes close.

“Keep them open,” he demands. “You look at me when we do this.” I force them open, black stars dotting my vision, desperate for air. He lets me have it as soon as we lock gazes. “That’s a good girl.” He rams his hips upward, and it takes me by surprise, jarring my body so hard that I feel light in the head. “Come on, darling, give it to me.”

Anger flurries in my chest, as if I’m not doing it good enough. My eyes flicker to the nightstand. And I see it, the metal blade glistening in the light of the moon. I swallow hard, lean forward, and latch onto the handle.

“What’re you doing?” he demands, his cock dropping from my pussy. “We’re not—fuck!” I slam back down on him, meeting his neck with the edge of the blade, while his fingers are wrapped around mine. “You devil of a woman,” he groans, as I roll my hips with renewed confidence. His grip loosens on my throat.

“It’s only fair I get my turn,” I pant, pressing the blade into his skin. I don’t know how much pressure it would take to break the skin, but the sight of it against his neck turns me on. We’re in a standoff, strangulation versus the knife—and the fire in his eyes tells me he loves it.

He tightens his fingers, cutting off my air supply, and I respond with the blade, indenting his skin. He swallows hard, his breath hitching as his legs tense beneath me. I feel myself growing closer to a second orgasm, and he cuts off my air supply, my head growing light and vision hazy. I do my best to hold the knife.

“Come for me,” he instructs, his voice husky. “Come all over my cock, darling.” He sounds distant, but just as my vision goes entirely, he lets me breathe—and my body trembles, an orgasm washing over me. I still my hips as I pulse around him, my scream drowning out his growls as he follows my lead, filling me with his release.

I collapse forward, and he catches me, planting a kiss on my mouth. I suck in a long, deep breath, refilling my lungs with oxygen. My heart is still racing, my body sweating, and as I pull away to sit up again, I freeze at the sight of blood.

“It’s okay, darling,” Henry chuckles darkly as I pull the blade away from his neck. The silver metal is laced with crimson, and my eyes widen. “It’s superficial, and I loved it.”

I study his face for a moment, still straddling him. And then I do something insane. My tongue runs along my bottom lip as I bring the knife to my mouth, keeping my eyes on Henry’s. He audibly swallows as I run the cool metal across my lips, covering them with the warm sticky liquid.

“Oh fuck,” he tremors beneath me as I clean up the copper-tasting blood with my tongue. I find myself aroused by not just the action, but the hunger and lust flooding Henry’s expression.

I then lean over and kiss Henry, letting him taste his own blood on my tongue. I set the knife on the nightstand while our lips are still locked, and he sits up in the bed, his arms wrapped around me and his cock still inside.

“You’re perfect, Lydia,” he groans, breaking our kiss and resting his head in the nape of my neck. I wrap my arms around him, lingering in the moment as we hold each other. And I forget how messed up my life is.

We stay that way for a while, until finally breaking apart. I slip into the bathroom to clean up and I hear Henry rustling around in the bedroom. Once finished, I peek out at him, surprised that he’s fully dressed. My heart drops.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to Cher,” he says, his voice flat as he runs his fingers through his hair. His neck is free of blood, but the T-shirt laying on the bed isn’t. “I’ll be back in a little while. You need to focus on getting more rest.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I can…I don’t think I can sleep without you.”

His face softens as he comes to me, pulling my body into him. “I’m just going to be downstairs. You’re safe here. I promise.” He kisses the top of my head, breathing me in. “You’re everything to me, Lydia.”

I tip my head back. “Already?”

He chuckles. “I don’t play games. I decided you were it the moment I saw you. I can deal with whatever you carry, whatever quirks you have, as long as you’re mine. I’ll clean up and cover anything you do—anyone you kill. I’m not sure I can exist without you, anymore.” He doesn’t give me any time to respond, kissing me once more and then slipping out of the room.

My eyes linger on the door even after he’s gone, my head spinning at his words. They’re heavy and intense—just like Henry Bayne. But after everything that’s happened, they feel right. Maybe I can’t exist without him, either.

thirty-one

Henry

How nice of you to finally show up to chat,” Cher laughs as I enter the library on the second floor. I knew that’s where I’d find her, immersed in one of the hundreds of books that line the shelves. She puts a title I don’t recognize on the table and folds her arms across her chest, leaning back in the black velvet reading chair.

“I had to get settled.”

“Oh, don’t patronize me, Henry. I heard you fucking her. The whole state of Oregon probably did.”

I crack a smile and shrug. “We have chemistry.”

“Do you? Or did you rob her of her sanity?”

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