Page 76 of The Cute Psycho

"Yes." I find myself agreeing, even though his words should make me run. "Please," I whisper, and his mouth opens wide right at the junction of my neck, his teeth lodging into my skin and breaking the surface.

I gasp at the unexpected pain. He applies suction, and my legs open up, letting him fit himself between them, seeking that close contact.

"For now," he whispers as he raises his head, blood staining his white teeth, "I'll settle for this."

A rough kiss and then he continues his journey along my body, stopping briefly over my stomach and trailing his tongue down. He nestles his head between my legs, and for one brief moment I want to protest.

But as he gives me a long lick my head hits the blanket with a loud moan.

"You're wicked," I breathe out, and I feel him smile against my pussy. He wraps his lips around my clit, sucking it into his mouth.

My hands fist the blanket, my thighs trembling as he continues his ministrations. Bringing his finger to my entrance, he tests my opening, finding me snug around him.

"Christ," he exclaims, his hot breath fanning over my pussy making me squirm, and one hand sneaks behind my waist, holding me flush against him. "You're so tight, I can barely fit a finger, Hell Girl. Fuck me, I can't help but imagine the way you'll bleed all over my cock," he rasps, his words meant to scandalize, but instead they only arouse me further.

I want to bleed all over him.

Lord, but I must be losing my mind.

Thrusting his finger in and out of me, he continues to tease me with his tongue, an ache forming inside of me as my arousal mounts. I writhe beneath him, my thighs bucking, my muscles tensing as he bites down on my clit, the pain mingling with pleasure in an unstoppable crescendo.

At some point, it feels too much, and I try to twist away from him, but he doesn't let me. Holding me even tighter, he thrusts in and out of me, his tongue gliding over my clit.

Suddenly, I start spasming around him, a gush of wetness flowing out of my channel. He continues to lap at me, devouring my release. It's an assault on the senses as he continues to wreak havoc on my body, coaxing more sensations.

When he's finally done with me, I'm boneless.

"What are you doing to me?" I barely find the strength to ask, my eyes droopy, my breathing harsh.

"Bribing you," he drawls, slowly trailing his tongue on my belly. "Giving you so much pleasure, you're going to become addicted to me." He smirks at me.

I almost groan at his arrogance, but the truth is that it would be so easy to become addicted to him. Certainly, his kisses have become my new favorite form of sustenance. Add the orgasms to my new diet and he's near damn indispensable.

But there's more to him than that. Way more.

It's in his darker than black eyes, and the suffering that sometimesleaks through the cracks. It's in his perfectly built facade and the way he presents himself to the world. But more than anything, it's in the way he allowsmeglimpses beneath his mask.

I see the screeching loneliness and the maniac instability, all leaving way to a pure yet misunderstood genius.

And I want it all.

Icraveit all.

There's no explanation for the things he makes me feel. My own essence calls out to his in a way that sometimes makes me question my own sanity.

But do I really need to be sane when I'm with him?

There's freedom in his brand of insanity—of ruthlessness, violence and brutality. And no matter how much I've tried to rationalizehim,I simply can't.

He's beyond logic, and even beyond feeling, in a realm of his own where rules don't exist.

He interrupts my train of thought as he moves up my body, taking my mouth in an aggressive kiss and making me lose my head.

Intoxicating.

That's what I'd call his lips when they touch mine.

I'm lost in his embrace and I don't even realize as he rolls us over, until I'm lying on top of him, my naked skin against his.

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