Page 80 of Malachi
“You little minx,” he seethed. I found his side, scraping my nails over his skin hard enough to draw blood before he took hold of me, moving my hand back up over my head and into his grasp once more.
“Bastard,” I spat at him.
“Bitch,” he fumed. His hips ground down into mine, making me arch up against him in a heated fervor. Thunder crashed around us as the sky finally opened up, rain pelting down on us like icy pellets. His words should have angered me, but they only fueled the passion I felt for him.
As another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, he grabbed me by the front of my dress, pulling me up violently until our lips crashed together, just as loud and just as powerful as the thunder booming around us like cannons.
Teeth clashing, lips pulling, tongue dueling, we kissed like it was a myth that the body needed oxygen to survive. I didn’t need air in my lungs. Only him. His lips moved down my body, teeth scraping along my skin as he neared my breast. Tugging my dress down, and my bra along with it, his teeth found purchase along the swell of my breast, biting hard and deep until I felt the skin give way to the pressure of his teeth.
I gasped.
I screamed.
I exulted in the hedonism that was him.
“Beast!” I cried out as his tongue licked and lapped at the blood he had spilled.
“Little bird.Mylittle bird,” he gritted out as his mouth latched onto my nipple, tugging, biting, and sucking it into his mouth as his knee found its way between my clenched thighs. The rough feel of his denim jeans scraped and rubbed against the bite marks he had left previously.
The rain splattered over my face and I arched into his touch, my hips grinding and thrusting against his leg as though I were in heat. I felt heated. I felt on fire for him. His hands were everywhere all at once, on my waist, my breasts, and finally moving down my body and yanking my skirt up.
“Fucking panties,” he groaned, finding the barrier barring his way to my heated sex. With a quick rip, he tore the panties from my body, the fabric digging into my hips until it finally ripped away.
Before I could do more than yelp, his fingers were on me, slipping over my wet folds and sliding inside of my heat.
One finger, then two, making way for his cock.
His mouth found mine, kissing me as I arched, still desperate to free my hands and touch him. I needed to ground myself with the feel of his skin against my own, but he was relentless. Holding me his willing captive, his mouth moved down my body again, this time biting into the flesh of my other breast, just beside my nipple, until I could feel my blood spill onto his tongue.
He sucked, his tongue flicking over the wound he inflicted, just as his cock slipped into my pussy. I don’t know when or how he had removed his pants, but I didn’t care. All I knew, all I could dare to think, was how full I was as he speared his way inside of me.
He slid into me with exquisite, excruciating slowness.
His head lifted, his eyes locked on mine as he kissed me. His mouth opened, my lips open and waiting for his kiss. Drop after drop of my own metallic blood dripped onto my tongue a moment before his lips met mine, sharing in the taste of it as he thrust into me, finally filling me to completion.
His kiss was passionate, near feral with its intensity. Finally, he released my hands, and I took my fill of him, clutching his back, my nails digging in deeper with every thrust.
“I want you filled to overflowing with my cum,” he grunted against my lips as he pounded inside of me. My nails scraped up the back of his neck, into his hair as I keened for him, whimpering with need. I felt alive, ablaze with a fiery lust that felt impossible to slake.
Bolts of lightning streaked across the sky in fragmented beams, allowing me to see just how well matched our passion was. With a spark of inspiration, I dug my heels into the dirt, pushing back and away from him as he pulled out in preparation for his next thrust. I didn’t want this to be over so quickly.
“Not so fast,” he groaned, tugging me closer, but I slipped from his grasp, turning into the dirt as I tried to escape. His hand found my hair again, tugging me back roughly as I gasped and groaned. It felt like the hair would pull clear out of the root as he clambered over me again.
With one hand pushing my cheek into the mud, he held me prisoner to his lust once more.
Slap!
The sound of his hand connecting with my ass rang out mere seconds before the stinging pain resonated through my body.
“Ouch!” I cried out, only to hear him chuckle mockingly.
“Then stay put,” he grumbled, though we both knew that was half the fun of it. Yanking my head back with a swift tug, my body arched much like a cat, ready for him. He pulled my hips back with one hand, bringing it down swiftly once more. Slap after firm slap landed across my ass cheeks as he held me there, spanking me in the most sensual and sadistic fashion. It was humiliating, and much to my chagrin, I was dripping for it. Dripping for him.
“Wicked little birds get spanked,” he barked over the raging sound of thunder.
I wanted to hate it. I wanted to hiss and curse him to the depths of hell for laying a hand on me, yet I found myself pushing back into every sharp smack with unabashed abandon.
“Looks like the little bird likes it,” he teased, toying with me as he ran his nails sharply down the reddened skin of my ass. My panties, loosely hanging in tattered shreds from my hips, were long forgotten and offered no protection to me now.
