Page 10 of Make Me A Sinner
He starts moving again and my back hits the pillar in repetition. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to walk out of here when he’s done with me. Right now, I don't even care. He can break me as long as he keeps fucking me.
But then he does something so much better than that.
He wraps a hand around my neck again, tighter this time. It's not to hurt me. It's to pin me higher against the wooden pillar.
With one sharp motion, he rips my nightshirt open—buttons flying everywhere. It was my favorite, but I don't even care because his mouth replaces the fabric, like it belongs there. The warmth of his tongue soothes for a moment the tension in mybreasts for being strung up for hours. It feels like heaven, like drops of rain after a day scorched in the summer’s sun. He can hear me panting, and he can also hear me calling out his name. I just don't care anymore. I only want him there, lips on my skin while he moves inside me.
But this is Set after all, and he can’t behave for long. His kisses turn into bites—hungry, insatiable.
My eyes roll all the way to the back of my head as I wait for the next, and the next, while my back still slams into the pillar. I'm damned, even if I don't want to admit it. The pain drives me so high, I’d do anything right now, maybe even sell my soul to the devil. My only salvation is that he doesn't know thatyet.
I'm starting to believe that my mild OCD has gotten worse on this prolonged vacation, because I am counting his thrusts. This is probably something a man would do, but my mental state isn’t exactly stable these days. I think it's because I kept counting stars over the past few months, although right now I'm starting to think I'm counting the stars I'm about to see.
945
946
947
He could break me at this point, and I wouldn't care; maybe he will by the time he's done with me. All I need is a few more seconds to break anyway.
I hear him curse, and I know he's just as close as I am. His bites turned vicious, even feral, as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, then bites down, and I'm convinced the skin's going to be dark purple by the time he lets go.
He decides to do the same with the other breast as the exploding sensation in my stomach hits the thousand mark in my countdown. But I can't keep counting. My brain is literally short-circuiting—as is the rest of me.
He bites me so damn hard I scream, and come at the same time so violently that it almost knocks me off. A groan, and I'm filled with his cum, his hand digging into my shoulder, his lips pressed to my breast as his warm breath falls on my tormented skin.
This was mind-blowing. If we were to do it again, I would probably die in the process. But I wouldn't say no.
He stays there for a minute, maybe even more. Then he slowly lifts me off the bed, stopping only when we’re face to face, as if he wants to hear the rhythm of my own breath.
He's so damn seductive when he's mad, when he's batshit crazy. He's so irresistible that my lips brush his without thinking. I'm practically begging for him to kiss me. It's not like it’d be for the first time. But he keeps me waiting. So, I kiss him. I don't even know why. It's not like he asked me to do it. It just feels natural, even though his reaction isn’t what I expect. The second my lips merge with his, he bites them. Hard. Ruthless. Like his sole purpose is to cause pain and draw a line I’m not supposed to cross.
"You," he growls, sinking his teeth into my lip again. "Don't." Another bite, and I think my lip is starting to bleed because I can feel a faint taste of iron. "Deserve." He barely holds himself back while tracing his tongue over the blood resting on my lips. "Me, kissing you."
And in the same breath, my hands fall like twigs, untied from the pillar. Set cut the rope, I just don't have control over my limbs anymore.
He pulls away from my lips, his cock abandoning the warm inside of my core, and I feel him taking a step back, leaving me kneeling on the bed.
He seems mad again, and I don't know if it's because I kissed him, or because he thinks I tricked him out of killing me.
I'm just afraid he’ll leave. I don't want to let him leave because I don't know if he’ll return this time. But I can't stop him either. Not now, not when he probably considers me responsible for ruining his plans.
He can't resist me. That's his biggest weakness. I realize that now. What I’m having trouble admitting is that I can't resist him either.
Pulling up his pants, like nothing happened, he steps off the bed and heads straight for the door—not before he turns his head toward me to give me a warning, "Don't—"
He doesn't get to finish before I interrupt him. "Leave the room. I know." I say, repentant, the hollow sensation in my chest matching my voice.
I think that only pissed him off even more. He walks out without saying another word, and I collapse into the pillows; my strength gone, my sanity gone as well while I'm just left there covered in blood, sweat, and cum.
seven
-Serena-
I’m not planning to leave the bedroom, and thankfully, it has its own bathroom, so I take the opportunity to shower and borrow one of the owner's dresses. Unfortunately, she doesn't have any spare new panties lying around, and I'm not wearing someone else's underwear.
Everything hurts. Not only my wrists; but also my pussy, and my damn knee. I think I must’ve strained it when I fell. That, and the sex tormenting kind of pain that lingers in your body —maybe even for days—reminding me every single moment of what I’ve done.
