Page 27 of Welcome Home
His head cants, looking every bit a corpse, but this time I’m not scared.
I’m the opposite of scared.
He looks less like Oliver than ever, and my body is ready for it.
“You really think I would do that to you?” He challenges, taking a step towards me.
“Oh Oliver,my love.We both know you wo-“ My words are cut off by my own scream as his mouth claps over mine. Taking my breath and making it his own. He’s consuming and there’s nothing gentle about it. My hands find his broad chest, my nails scoring skin through the thin t-shirt before shoving back with everything I have. He doesn’t even budge. A growl fed to me is the only indication he registered my push at all.
I’m gasping as he pulls away, his hand buried in my hair, the other on my hip in a bruising hold. A hold that screamsmine, but I’m not his. I’ll never be his as long as he’shim.
“Don’t you ever call me by that name again.” He warns, I whimper at the sound of ripping fabric as he rips my Dior sundress from my body the same moment I’m lifted and slammed back down on the accent table, my ass meeting the cool surface.
“You’re sure acting like Oliver! You’re supposed to be-“
A roar leaves his throat, carnal and as otherworldly as him. “I don’t give a fuck about the plan. I will not hear you mutter his name again! Do you understand me, Cora?”
I glare up at him as he uses my hair to force my eyes to his. “I hate-“
“No, you hate him. You hate what he did to you. I would never fucking touch her when I have-“
A frustrated cry leaves my throat, sending a cascade of teetering tears running down my cheeks. The ringing has stopped and my rage dwindles. His only seems to feed into itself. Becoming an entity of its own.
“I love you, Cora! Fuck, the way I love you. I love the way you breathe life into me with every touch. The way you look at me makes me fucking insane. I will live for you in a way amancould only ever dream of Cora. I would bleed and die for you. You need only fucking ask. I have lived hundreds of lives, pulled air through these lungs for hundreds of years and every single one has paled in comparison to you. You are no more something I want than my own heart, you frustrating woman. I am nothim, but I am yours, utterly and undeniably yours.Take me.”
My chest constricts as I fight my head away, only for it to be wrenched back. “You will not look away from me. This is the monster that owns you, that longs to be owned by you.Take. Me.”
My back arches off the cool wall, my core seeking him out as my heart shatters and rebuilds in my chest. The right words won’t come, no matter how many times my brain tried to form them, so I settle on the best ones I can come up with. “I- I believe you.”
“Tell me you want me gone and I will slay myself at your feet, but know this… if you let me stay, you will never be rid of me and by the night's end, you will be speared by my cock.”
A guttural moan leaves my throat, my hands frantic in their exploration of a body I know well. “Stay.”
“There is nowhere I would rather be.”
My hair is released, and I’m wrenched away from the accent table in the same fluid moment, a groan leaving him along with an admission that both frightens and excites me. “I cannot hold back my love. I’m- “another groan, “Slipping.”
My eyes widen on his lifeless skin, and it doesn’t take long to figure out what he means, the large cock that was pressed against my desperately grinding sex feels like it’s changed…a lot. A very small wave of apprehension rushes over me as I swallow hard. “L-let me see it.”
“Cora…” it’s a plea… and God, I don’t think pleading men get enough recognition because that word and tone alone wipe away any logical reservations.
“Please Vosz, let me see it.”
“Ask again.” He groans, the sound edging on painful as he sits me on a step, his hand covering my lower back where the one behind me would dig into my skin as he leans me backwards, feasting on my neck. His free hand working my clit through my underwear.
“Please Vosz, I want to see your cock. I need to see it.”
His breath fans my neck, damp from his licks and nibbles. “If you are to be the death of me, my love, then I cannot wait to die.”
The sound of the zipper fills the large entryway, need and anticipation swirling in my belly, making a tight line of fire to my pulsing core as he sheds his pants with his otherworldly speed and grace. Seconds later, something hot and heavy settles on my thigh. Which wouldn’t be a wildly concerning sensation if his hips weren’t by my knees. My breath stills from its pant, making my head feel light, that wayward logic screaming back in. The only indication that isn’t his forearm resting there is the arrow like tip brushing my stomach, the odd ridges and bumps coating the nearly translucent appendage. Blue veins networking the inside of his throbbing, monstrous length. I stare at it in abject horror for a moment, not just because of its wildly alien appearance but because if he puts this inside me, I will die.
His hand cups my chin, pulling my eyes from the thigh length weapon of destruction leaking and throbbing pressed into my leg. “I will not hurt you, my love. We’ll go slow.” He says the words confidently, but I can note the doubt in his voice. Like the size difference hadn’t occurred to him yet.
“There’s no way it’ll fit.” I gasp as his hand resumes its teasing, my underwear feeling like a dividing wall between us. “Can’t you use h-“
“If you say his…” He warns through gritted teeth, I don’t dare look at the wooden banister he cracked at my suggestion.
“Sorry. Can I… see your tongue?” My cheeks flush as he rips my soaked underwear from my sex, leaving the tatters underneath me.
