Page 127 of Like A Moth To A Flame

All I could see was the way her flesh sucked in around her rib cage with every breath and the way her perfect tits strained against her bra with every breath she took. She saw me looking, and she giggled.

This little shit. She was fucking with me.

She was fucking with me, and she was enjoying it.

She returned her arms where they rested before, around my neck, her nails scratching the sensitive skin at the back of my neck and sending tingling shivers up my spine.

“I want you to hurt me, Tommy. Know why?” she said, cocking her head to one side.

“Why?”

“Because when you did, I liked it. I liked it when you took control of me, and I don’t know why, but it makes me feel freer than I ever have. I like it when you own me, and now I want you to own me in every single way you can.”

Leaning forward, she pushed her lips closer to mine, but before they connected, her tongue lashed out and licked across my mouth.

“You’re a fuckin’ brat.”

She giggled.

“Am I?”

I grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. I didn’t trust myself to speak. My hands, still circled her waist, were shaking with the effort it took to hold myself back.

“Put a baby in me, Tommy,” she whispered, her fingers digging into my hairline, her nails scratching at my scalp and sending shocks jolting me. “Give me a reason to stay.”

I snarled, and when my hands looped around her perfect throat, all my inhibitions had fallen away.

31

There is always something in the way. I want to have you to myself for once…

Moth

Ashadow crossed his eyes—so dark and so deep that it was like an eclipse on his soul. His hands tightened painfully around my throat as he flipped us, pinning me to the couch, his body pressing me down into the cushions and holding me there. His fingers were rough, squeezing until my lungs burned for air and scars exploded in the corners of my vision.

I was scared, but whether I admitted it or not, it didn’t change the way it coiled my insides and brought a rush of excitement building in my chest. It settled way down low in my belly, and I felt a thrumming pulse through my core.

I was done pretending I didn’t like it when he scared me. Truth was, I liked feeling helpless. I liked knowing he could break me apart with his bare hands, and take me down to bare bones. He could rip me apart at the seams, and the only thing holding him back was how he felt for me, and my trust in him.

Because even if I didn’t want to admit it for a long time, I trusted him. I trusted him more than I could ever remember trusting anyone because, truth be told, he was the only one who was true to himself.

He was a monster, and he didn’t hide it.

He was my hero, but he fucked like a villain, and I loved every second of it.

This dark, twisted place inside my head was my home, and it had been for a very long time. The person I am today had been born in that basement, shaped by darkness, and molded into something far more evolved.

His hands fell away, and I sucked in a gasping breath, fighting for air as my body jerked involuntarily, desperate for oxygen. He grabbed at my shorts and pulled them down, not bothering to unbutton or unzip them. Thankfully, they were loose enough, but they left burning pain behind. He left me in nothing but my bra, and soon enough, that was gone too, torn away in desperation until the bands snapped and the fabric frayed.

“Hurry, " I pleaded, watching as he pulled off his belt and tore the shirt off over his head. “Hurry, Tommy. Please?”

I watched him pop the button on his jeans, and the scream of the zipper came next. They slumped around his hips, and my jaw dropped open at the sight of him.

I’d felt it before, that night in the tower, but seeing it was different. It was thick and long, curved like I’d only heard about, but never seen myself. Every man I’d been with before him had been boring—average.

Shit, what had I done?

It’s fine, the voice in my head reminded me.You’ve fucked him before.

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