Page 54 of Make Me Hunt
I just want to stop feeling that… that shame of having something taken against your will. I want him to break the chain. Take back whatever control that creep still has over my body and mind.
Ares’s lips close in, and he doesn’t wait for permission—nor do I want him to. Just presses them against mine, claiming them with a long groan, his tongue seekingrefuge inside my mouth without hesitation. Like it belongs there. Likehe belongswith me.
I grunt from the brutal force, but it only makes him catch my wrists in one hand and pin them above my head. His other hand pushes down my ripped clothes, along with the blanket I used to cover myself.
There’s too much light, like everything is out in the open.
How broken I am.
How he’s a creature of darkness.
But it doesn’t stop my pulse from racing, the excitement gripping every cell in my body, like tiny sparks of something unknown meant to bring me back to life again.
Then, a sharp sting snaps me out of the delirium I was losing myself to. I look down to where the pain originated. It’s one of the places that bears the scars from the sanatorium.
I swallow hard, trying to say something, but no words come out. Just the sight of his fingertips stained with my blood. His nails are thick, closer to small claws than anything human.
And I recognize what he’s doing. He’s erasing him from me.
“More,” I almost beg, waiting for him to rip me to pieces if that’s what it takes to cure me of my memories... of my nightmares.
“Can’t rush it,” he snarls, words fighting their way out. “Won’t rush it. Just two a night,” he grunts, visibly displeased by the pain he’s causing, yet vibrating from claiming another piece of me.
“But I’ve got hundreds,” I whisper, hoping that he’ll keep his promise and make it all go away. I know it’s not real. He can’t cure me, but I need something to hold on to right now.
“Then we’ll have to do this every night for a while,” he whispers, his lips falling down my neck. His free hand cups my breasts until his lips join it—sucking and biting on my nipples, playing with my piercings—until the haze in my mind becomes something close to ecstasy.
I arch against the couch, his crotch now pressed even closer to mine, like only a few moments are keeping me apart from him.
Funny how I didn’t want him to touch me earlier, and now I want him to do whatever it takes to make me whole again.
I focus on him as he works his way down my body. The piercings in his cock painfully obvious as he pulls me against him, mapping every inch of me with his lips, claiming it for himself. Any doubt that he wants anything other than to give me pleasure fades. This man is pleasure personified. Or maybe he’s just the devil, as he said it himself.
If that’s the case, then tonight, I want to learn what fire feels like.
He fists my panties in one rough motion, the sting of the side cords being ripped off, barely there as they disappear from between my legs, and his fingers rush to claim what he left untouched.
I fight to break free from his grip, thankfully he understands I’m not going anywhere. I’m just returning the favor, anchoring myself to the moment, not the past.
I rush to unzip his jeans, and the mission is more difficult than I suspected. The fabric digs into his skin like he’d grown a couple of sizes just in minutes. But as I go to explore further, I realize his jeans size isn’t the only thing that has increased.
My hands slide inside his boxers, reaching for his hard cock, but for a second, I almost pull away, trying to cope with the extreme girth.
He’ll have some explanations to give in the morning, but right now I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or scared.A little of both, maybe, only because this is more than any normal person should handle unless you’re in an R-rated movie.
And before I get a chance to say something, I feel him slipping inside me.
Okay, not exactly slipping. More like ruining me for any other man.
I guess that doesn’t even matter because I don’t plan on having any kind of life after this.
He claims me, painfully, inch by inch, piercing by piercing, and I don’t want him to stop until he’s all in, even if that might break me. I want him to keep his word and erase any trace of any other man—let him be the only monster who has me.
The low, hummed sounds echoing from his throat grow more intense. Like, he can barely keep himself from turning full devil on me. And I don’t fight him. I want him to do whatever it takes to ruin me in every way he wants. Because tonight, Iunderstood one thing—I’m his, in any form he takes. Even if this won’t give us a happy ending.
Maybe I’m just as evil as he is, using him to try and break free from my past, when on the other side, I keep clinging to it, refusing to let Ezekiel get away with what he did.
My spine seems to be melting into the couch. All thoughts are narrowing to the relentless movement of his hips, his Jacob's ladder forging through my channel like it’s going to leave a permanent mark there.
