Page 124 of Under the Bed

More. I need more. I tilt her hips up, throbbing at the sight of her pussy. Her ass.

“Never.” I lean in to swirl my tongue around the rim of tight muscle, moaning into her.

Moaning harder when she clenches around me, her ass cheeks brushing against me. I slide my hand that’s on her back lower until my thumb presses to her asshole. Where I’m taking her tonight.

“Oh God.” She shivers, pressing into me. Offering herself.

A moment ago, she was willing to cut me up. I understood why. Her fear of losing me. The memories of the police officers hauling me out of our home.

We didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

She’s terrified it’ll happen again.

This ends tonight.

“You won’t have a choice.” Her voice, her ass, her muscles. They all strain for me when I push past the tight hole up to the first knuckle. “When they find out…”

“Enough.” I shove my thumb all the way in.

“Please,” she gasps. Squeezes. Sucks me in. I drag it out, pushing back in, and she hits the tile, the sound echoing in the small bathroom. “Please.”

“You’re going to be a good slut for me and be quiet.” I grab her bruised ass while pumping my finger in and out of her, using the water to make it good for her. To stretch her for me. The need to fill her up with my cock is overwhelming. “That’s how I won’t get caught. If you’ll be my good girl.”

“How does this”—when one of her cuts opens under my touch, she moans, eyes squinting at me—“have anything to do with you not getting caught?”

“You’re not focusing on what’s important.” I pull my finger out, working two into her, getting off on her pained gasps. I had no idea if she’d like it, but fuck, she does. Taking my cock in her ass will turn her into a screaming mess. “This is me, helping you relearn what you should’ve never forgotten.”

“You’re hurting me.” Though she whines, she pushes her ass to me. Not like anything she did would ever make me stop. “Don’t—I can’t. Your fingers, they’re so thick. And it’s back there. It’s wrong.”

“You like it.” Another finger in her ass and she curses.

She hates how her body reacts to the pressure, how she seeks me out. I reward her by grazing my teeth on her ass, sucking the blood that trickles down her thighs.

Her “Oh, no” and “Fuck, fuck, fuck” reach straight to my goddamn balls.

“You’re a whore for the pain. Desperate for me.” I’m everywhere. Her thighs. Her ass. Licking. Pumping. Ruining her. “For your destructive, murderous, emotionless stepbrother. Killing people doesn’t bother you. I know. Your savior complex, though. That’s gonna be a problem for me.”

“No savior complex. I need you to be okay, because you’re everything to me.” Her heavy breathing turns the words into moans. Her lust is intoxicating, and I fucking love that she’s losing her mind. That she writhes on me. Fucking my fingers. Leaning forward for a minute, grinding her clit against the wall, then pushing back to me. “Need you here. With me.”

“As much as I appreciate your concern…” It’s agony to pull out of her. Her hushed curses manage to fix it. Her pain is a balm to mine. “As much as I love you for it, we’re going to do things my way.”

“You said that again.” Her wet hair sticks to her face as she gawks at me. “You really mean it.”

I raise an eyebrow, looking at her as water streams down on both of us. “That we’re going to do things my way?”

“No.” Her frown curves her lips downward. “That you really, really mean it. Say it again. Please.”

She’s stunned that this is more than a game to me. More than an obsession.

Of course it is.

It’s a fact.

Sun rises in the east. Birds fly in the sky. The ocean is wet. And I?—

“I love you.”

“Kaleb.” Her chin dimples.

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