Page 66 of Nemesync
He smirked proudly, “Yet, that’s exactly what I’m doing, and not breaking a sweat. I told you yesterday, I tasted you so you’re fucking mine and even if I didn’t, you’ll still be fucking mine. Call it ownership, insanity—whatever you want, I call it reality.”
His. He wanted me to be his.
“You just want me to be yours in suffering Elijah? Is this all about? Being the one and only to fucking destroy me even more?”
He chuckled darkly, as if it was obvious. “It’s about being in control of your body and heart, being the one and only to make it burst from pleasure and anger.”
“You want me to explode because I fucking want you to touch me?”
“I want you to crave me as much as I fucking do, Zanae. Because I hate being the only one dying to touch you.”
“THEN, FUCKING MAKE ME!!”
Our eyes locked, Elijah, recognizing a shift in my breathing, tilted his head toward me, looked at my lips and stopped talking.
His eyes dared me to break this first, and mine challenged him to do the same. Gently, almost imperceptibly, an unspoken understanding passed through us.
He was so close that I could tell how many lashes he had from the proximity. The room was just filled with our heavy breathing, his anger and my frustration.
And I stepped closer, and the only thing I saw was his mouth, I didn’t think about anything else. My heart beat so fast in my chest that I could hear it and I’m sure he could hear it too.
He didn’t answer and just yanked off his tie, then rolled up his sleeves, his eyes blazing with fury and longing, daring me to challenge him even more.
He didn’t even try to answer my question, instead, he just undid the buttons of his shirt and loosened his belt with one of his hands.
We were almost touching from this proximity.
“Lift up your dress,” he spat out, his tone rough and so low, his lips brushing against mine without ever touching them.
“Why— why would I do that?” I asked, still lost in those eyes.
He closed the nonexistent distance between us, his movements aggressive, almost demanding. Then he spoke with a sense of urgency. “We are going to talk.”
But before I could protest, his lips crashed onto mine, a bruising kiss filled with anger and passion. In that moment, words became unnecessary, drowned out by the need to have him impossibly closer.
I responded to his kiss with defiance and desire. I allowed myself to be swept away by this murderous attraction raging within me. It was insane, tumultuous, fueled by the dangerous need to outdo each other that consumed us both.
He lifted me against the wall, our bodies pressed together, my heart threatening to explode.
I realized that between Elijah and I, there was only a blurry line between pain and pleasure.
Admiration and disdain.
Trust and doubt.
And that blurry line was disappearing.
His hands found my hips urgently and pulled me closer to him.
I didn’t grasp what was happening, I just couldn’t control anything in me, I was sinking into him, drowning into him, I just wanted it all, I wanted all he could ever offer to me. My body wasn’t mine anymore. When his hands appeared between my thighs, I understood that there was no going back after this.
“I’m gonna be clear, flirting with someone in front of me wasn’t the smartest move. Never do this again, if you don’t want corpses to cover the ground you walk on,” he whispered against my mouth.
I couldn’t stop myself from shutting down my traitor of a body who was responding way too easily to him. “Why should I listen to you?”
He grabbed my cheeks firmly, kissing my neck hungrily before saying. “Because I say so.”
“I can’t stand you,” I tried to say, but he just ate my words.
