Page 34 of Executing Malice
“Please don’t,” I plead, fully aware of the heels I’m digging into the mattress for leverage to hold myself open for him.
“Just the tip,” he lies, voice thick with hunger. “I just want to feel you.”
But I know that’s not enough. I can feel the tremors of control running through him. Feel the tension in his fingers as he holds me open and grinds the studded crown inside my cunt.
“No ... don’t...”
“You’re sucking me in,” he grits out. “You want me to stop? Then why the fuck is your cunt leaking for me?”
I shake my head. “Please...”
“Too late.”
He thrusts just an inch deeper. It’s enough to slip the second bar in. The pulse of him inside me is a heartbeat as beautiful as the groan he expels in my ear.
“Fuck!” he hisses through his teeth. “I’m going to cum in you and let your sweet, stretched hole keep every drop warm.”
His cock twitches, making the piercings quiver.
I can’t move as hot, wet cum floods me. As it fills me. It’s thick and endless. It drips around him and down my ass to soak the sheets. Still, he stays there until the last drop.
“Feel that?” he taunts directly into my ear. “That’s mine now. You’re mine.”
I feel the tears burn even as my mouth opens willingly beneath his bruising kiss. I give no resistance as he stays braced over me, his cock corking his seed in place, making sure it does its job. I let him kiss me in the soft darkness of my room now heavy with the scent of sweat and cum. I let him untether my arms and drag me into his bare chest.
And I stay.
I curl into his warmth and strength, closing my eyes like my body has already submitted to him. It’s perfectly content lying in this stranger’s arms after ... everything.
Everything he just did.
Every plea he ignored.
It gives no shit that he’s in my bed, in my house in the dead of night. That he knows where I live. That he simply broke in and ... touched me.
Came inside me.
I know I could have been more forceful. I could have fought him. Screamed at him to stop.
But when his fingertips ghost along the arch of my spine to the curve of my ass, my response is to nuzzle the column of his throat and press closer against him.
“What have you done to me?” I whisper into the taut flesh.
Lips graze my temple, my cheek. The bristles I hadn’t noticed before scratch my skin.
I like it.
“What you wanted,” he murmurs into my ear.
“You broke into my house,” I mutter.
His fingers flex into the arches of my backside. “Can’t break into a place that doesn’t lock its fucking doors.”
There’s an edge to his low murmur that makes me think he’s annoyed that he could break in.
There’s irony in there somewhere, but I can’t think of it when I can feel myself beginning to slip.
“Close your eyes, Leila. Go back to sleep. I won’t let the nightmares touch you again.”
