Page 14 of Carnival
In one quick, rough thrust, he bottoms out in me, and I scream out. The thickness of his cock catches me off guard, because unlike the first time we had sex, I’m not drunk now. My inner walls clench on him, my stomach doing a backflip at the sudden intrusion.
“Fuck,’’ he hisses, moving his hands to grip my hips. He doesn’t move, and I feel his cock twitching inside me as he holds me close to him. “So wet for me.’’
Then he starts moving, and I don’t even try to stop the moans that are coming out of my mouth repeatedly. He’s brutal and rough, and the pace he’s set makes my head spin. The sound of our bodies clapping together overpowers my whimpers, and the way he’s holding onto my hips as he slams me onto his cock makes me see stars.
James moves his hands under my shirt, gripping and groping my breasts. He squeezes them, groaning slightly. He kisses my neck again, then his lips travel up to my ears.
“I’ve missed this wet cunt, Rose,’’ he whispers.
My entire body feels as if he’s lighting me on fire, the constant warmth inside me intensifying with each rough thrust. I moan, bucking my hips against him.
This is fucking insane.
I never thought I’d be here, letting a man who’s allegedly a serial killer fuck me against a tree. Even less for the said man to be the very same man who took my virginity. It’s humiliating, it’s dehumanizing, and I’m loving every second of it.
His cock is thick, and I can feel him stretch me out as much as possible. He doesn’t slow down, and the fact that my vision’s restricted makes this entire thing more erotic. I don’t see him, but I can feel every single moment of this.
The way he rolls my erect nipples between his fingers, the way his hot breath is pricking my skin, causing goosebumps to appear all over. Even the smallest hairs on my neck stand up straight, his lips feeling blazing hot against my flesh.
My eyes are closed, and soon enough, the familiar sensation builds in the pit of my stomach. It hits me instantly, before I can even react. His name falls from my lips like the dirtiest little secret, the most desperate plea, as I come undone, my walls clenching down on him.
He continues to thrust into me, prolonging my orgasm before biting down on my shoulder as hard as possible, climaxing inside me with a low groan.
My breath is labored, and mixed with the running I did a while ago, I’m exhausted. Which is why I don’t fight it when my legs give out and I fall into a dreamless, dark sleep.
6
Rose
Isit up in bed, rubbing my eyes. A yawn escapes me, and the sunlight shines through the windows, causing me to wince a little. It takes me a couple of seconds to remember what went down last night, and as if on cue, I feel soreness between my legs.
With shaky hands, I toss the covers off me and frown. Not only am I wearing a different set of pajamas, but I’m also clean. He cleaned me up before bringing me back to bed; not a single trace, aside from some light bruises, of what had gone down last night.
My eyes skim through the room, and there’s nothing. I half-expected to see him in one of the corners, but I’m relieved that he’s not here. My mind spirals into a frenzy because what the actual fuck is wrong with me?
Why the hell did I let it happen? It feels like a fever dream, and on some level, I can only pray that it is. The darkness in me is grateful to have been unleashed, even if for a moment, butthe rational part of me is screaming that having sex with James in the middle of the forest will come back to bite me in the ass sooner or later.
The strangest part?
My hair is neat. I don’t sleep with my hair tied up, and it gets tangled a lot during the night. Add that to the fact that I was running last night, then got railed against the tree, and James did hold my hair; it should be beyond salvageable.
Instead, it’s styled into a neat braid, falling down my mid-back, tied with a black elastic.
I shake my head, unsure what to make of this. It definitely wasn’t a one-time thing, given that it’s the second time I’ve fucked a clown, and it only serves as proof that he’ll come back for me. Unless I find him first.
A yawn escapes me, and I shake off the thoughts. I have more pressing matters to think about, and with a deep breath, I sling my feet over the edge of the bed, making it creak slightly under my weight. I slide my feet into a pair of fuzzy, warm slippers and head to the bathroom.
Once I’m ready for the day, teeth brushed, face washed with the skincare routine, I stare at myself in the mirror. There are love bites all over my neck, and they’re rather huge. I wince a little, already coming up with an excuse to tell Aria, because there’s no way she won’t notice them.
“Rosalie? Are you awake?” Aria calls out, knocking on the bedroom door. My brows narrow at the usage of my full name, something I haven’t heard in a long time.
“In the bathroom, I’ll be right out!”
I don’t have the time to hide the hickeys with makeup and settle for a turtleneck instead. It covers them enough not to be noticeable, and once I’m satisfied with the look – and not taking the damned braid out — I head toward the living room.
Aria’s sitting on the floor, sipping on her coffee, and watching the news. Her eyes darted to me momentarily before they were back on the television. She pats the seat next to her, with a spare mug of steaming coffee that just seems to be calling my name.
“How did last night go?” I ask, sitting down next to her.
