Page 79 of Iron Cross

“Why not?” Another graze of his smooth tip against my folds, going in just a little deeper into my entrance.

“I’m not…” I wracked my brain for why I couldn’t. Why I had to stop him. Why I should stop this.

If I let him, he’d own me. He’d take over my body as he had before. There was only one thought I could tug like a string. The only thing that made sense. The only plausible reason to pause the inevitable course we were on.

“I haven’t been with anyone else. I haven’t taken precautions… I…” His presence muddied my thoughts as I tried to pluck out what I meant. “I’m not on birth control.”

Then I remembered that he liked that. He wanted a dozen children, if I allowed it.

He grazed the tip again and chuckled, confirming my realization. Then he pushed into my heat, the thick head of his cock opening me up. I gasped against the intrusion, and the pressure of being spread.

“All the more reason for me to take you now, before you have a chance to block me,” he said, pausing his movement for just a moment, letting me accommodate his girth. “This time, I’ll be there for every appointment, every kick.”

He captured my mouth and invaded me with his tongue as he pushed his cock even further in. I winced at the stretch as he carved himself back into my body. He pried his lips away.

“I’ll watch your belly grow, and it won’t be some fucking neighbor taking you to the hospital. It’ll be me.” He pulled out a little, then thrust in so hard that I bounced away from him.

His hand found my throat, forcing me to look at him, keeping me rooted to him. He held my entire being in the palm of his hand.

“You’re mine, Kira.” He grabbed my right hand, and spread my fingers so that he could see my palm. “I’ll mark your skin until you know it.”

He brought it to his mouth and bit down so hard, I winced. Sandwiched between his palm and his teeth, I felt like my hand was going to bleed. When his teeth pulled away, tearing my skin with it, he looked down at the red scrapes, then down at my face, still thrusting.

Stranded as I was inside the damn walk-in closet, I was forced to lean on him for balance. I had nothing else to turn to, no shelves to hold, no wall to brace against. Nothing except him.

My body couldn’t take all the emotions spilling from my heart, or the contradictory feelings from every cell. Before my knees buckled, he grabbed my thighs, pulling them up to circle his waist. In so many ways, he knew my body better than I did, and I wanted to weep at the knowledge.

I felt seen, and felt, and heard. I felt acknowledged, needed and desired. All the things I had not experienced in the last three fucking years when I had been robbed of his glorious presence.

My toes curled from desire, my lips moaned with the rhythm of his cock, my body climbed and climbed to its climax. My pulse throbbed with the pain in my palm, and my lungs ached with the air he was stealing from my throat with the clench of his hand.

All of it was out of my control. And God help me, I liked it.

“It’s not enough,” he said, as he tugged my left arm from around his shoulder, until my palm landed in his. “Not enough.”

He stared down at my hand, his eyes turning cruel. His rhythm was frantic, and I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t handle it. He brought my palm to his lips, and instead of a gentle, sweet kiss, he bit down hard, and I cried in pleasured pain, my head light with the intimacy of every fucking movement and gesture.

“Please,” I begged, “I can’t take anymore. Please…”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak anymore. Darkness was coming to the edges of my vision and still, my body, the pleasure, the rhythm… my toes curled against his assault.

He let go of my throat and the rush of air made me dizzy. I came instantly, my back arching, and I screamed. I screamed so loud, it pierced through my mind until nothing else existed.

Every cell of my body had cooled and released at once, and I had no control over my nerves, my limbs, or my heart as I fell apart, wracked with sobs.

Pleasure gave way to ache, and the cooling loneliness of reality.

I was nothing to him. Just as I had been before. A hole, a body, athing.As my body fell, my mind awoke and the grief came pouring in. The cries I had withheld were now flowing with the tears.

I wanted to curl into myself, to wrap my arms around my body to protect my heart, my vital parts from this man who could break me with a single word, or look. But he wouldn’t let me turn away.

“Why,” he whispered quietly, “are you crying?”

“I don’t know.” I lied.

He kissed me, and my heart ached even more.

I loved him. I still loved him. The memory, the feel, the touch, the ache he caused in my heart when he punched a hole in it. It was all still there, unearthed now because he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t leave me alone until I was nothing but a pile of ash because that was what Eoghan Green did. He went one step further than you could handle.

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