Page 64 of Make Me Pretty
I rock up again, needing more. Abel hums softly and tries widening his legs, but the fabric is already pulled as taut as it can go. He huffs, annoyed with a cute little curve to his top lip. My thumb finds rest against it, the pad digging into his snaggletooth.
His tongue darts out, swiping over my skin before sucking it into his mouth. Smooth sandpaper and spit envelop the digit. My nail scraps over his teeth when he bobs forward against the rotation of my hips below him.
I scrape my way up over his sharp ribs until I find the crooked barbell in his one nipple. With a twist to my lips, I grab ahold of the end and tug, watching the tiny bud stretch taut, and then, I keep pulling.
Abel mewls, falling forward against the pressure. When his mouth is once again inches away, I rip my hand away to clash mine to his, needing that pain, the inevitable revulsion that ensues with tasting him… only it never comes.
There’s only ardent fervor andanger.
Because he took that from me. Theone thingI always knew would be there. A piece that had become a part of me.
“Can’t you stopthinkingfor once?” he utters softly against my lips. I hiss and jerk him back with a fistful of his hair, his back bowing as I push myself up. The shift in movement sends my cock deeper inside him, and we both groan in unison.
“I would if you’d do as you were told,” I sneer. “You’re supposed to be fucking me.Prettily,I might add. Not running your fucking mouth.”
“Do you even know what you want, Peris?” I don’t like the insinuation of his question, but of course, the brat doesn’t give it a moment’s pause. “One minute, you’re lost in this, and the next, you’re so deep in your head, you forget I’m even here. With you, like this.” He accentuates his point by clenching his ass around me.
I want to scream at him,You don’t know how hard this is. What this means…but the searing constriction has my hips jerking up. Abel bucks, meeting my thrust with one of his own, and the slap of flesh ricochets off the walls.
My breaths stutter, sharp through my nostrils. His nasty little grin twists his features, and the haunting, pink glow has never looked more becoming. “If you want pretty, baby, I can give that to you.”
His arms extend behind him, long fingers tightly gripping the meat of my upper thighs. I stare through pink shadows as he bends backward, his body curved with his chin to his chest, and starts fucking me as prettily as he promised.
I’m breathless, watching the roll of his hips, the way his little cock strains against his boxers. His hair as it flops across his forehead, skimming his crooked nose. Eyes—piercing metal—as he stares into me from beneath his lashes.
There’s no pretending he isn’t who he is… But he also doesn’t need to know that.
The drag of cotton against the side of my dick chafes, and I grit my teeth as Abel drops down again. The grip of one hand tightens for balance as the other snakes inside his underwear, bicep flexing with every jerk of his fist. His head drops back a little more with every sway, making it so much easier.
He’s as focused on himself as he is me, and I’ve never seen anything hotter. Porn has nothing on Abel Silver and his sex prowess.
I grip the flap in the center of his boxers and rip it open. The fabric tears, filling the room with a staticky vibration that sends gooseflesh bursting across Abel’s skin. He gasps as he’s freed from the material, which now hangs in scraps around his hips and left thigh.
His entire groin is now exposed, and I’m caught somewhere between life and death, hate and lies. Always one and the same.
“You’re g-gonna have to—mmm, buy me new ones,” Abel mumbles. I chuckle, rolling my neck as the heat spreads.
It’s too late now.
There’s no point in fighting it… but was there ever really?
Abel Silver has always been inexorable. The entity of everything I’ve coveted and loathed. A testament to my past and the undeniable proof I didn’t have to be this way.
So full of malice and contempt.
I could’ve been… well, not good because Abel sure as all hell isn’t anything close. But I could have been okay with it—who I am.
Maybe in another life.This one’s already too far gone.
“Don’t have to do shit other than lay here, runt.”
“Mmhmm,” he drawls slowly with another punctuated roll, the sound emitting from his throat deeper than anything I’ve ever heard. It’s then I realize the friction wasn’t from his boxers but from where we’re connected.
The drag of my cock in his channel is too tight, too…dry.The realization sucks the breath from my lungs, now knowing what it feels like on both ends. And I fuckinghate it.
I grab Abel’s thigh, my other hand always finding rest on his waist.
“Why’s your pussy so dry, runt?” I spit through gritted teeth. My balls are tight against my body, and fighting the ripple of fervor takes every ounce of self-control I clearlydon’tpossess.
