Page 58 of Mara
Reaching forward, I gripped her arm and got close to her face to whisper my next words.
“When did you think this was optional? I said fucking run, Mara.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“If you don’t, then I will give you a reason to.”
Shoving my hand in my pants, I stroked the aching length tip to base, making sure she heard my moans while I kept direct eye contact with her. The freezing rain was pelting our faces, but neither of us looked away. Her skin flushed, and I kept going.
“Run, Nirvana,” I repeated, gripping her curls in my fist. “Or get on your fucking knees.”
She reached her hand to mine, ripping at my fistful of her hair, but otherwise made no attempt to escape.
“I am not playing games, Jinx. I don’t give a fuck what lame little prize you want to dangle in my face.”
A laugh bubbled from my lips, and before I knew what I was doing, my hands created the message my mouth did not.
You are the prize.
Mara gasped, her eyes dropping to watch my perfect sign language.
Now she was trying to run, but I slammed her down into the mud in front of me.
“Let go. Get away from me. This isn’t right. Something isn’t right. I need to find Gianna. Please stop.”
Bucking my hips forward, I locked her head between my legs and the bark of the tree, pushing my pants down and slamming into her mouth.
Her warm mouth felt like fire, and I closed my eyes, pumping my hips over and over between her parted lips.
A sharp pain stopped me, and I looked down. Mara fucking bit me. Blood coated her mouth, and she pulled away from my bleeding, deflated cock and slowly met my gaze.
She was scared.
I ran my hand over the teeth marks on my sensitive skin, wiping the blood onto my fingertips.
Letting my full weight fall forward, I caught myself at the last minute on top of her. She was pinned underneath me, screaming and struggling to get away. I almost wished she was asleep again, but I enjoyed the little bronco bucking too damn much.
“You want to make me bleed, Nirvana? Is that what makes your little pussy wet? To see my flesh covered in crimson?”
My Little Reaper spat at me, her saliva flying into my face, directly into my mouth. I laughed and licked my lips. Her whimpered response was addictive, making my cock inflate again and bob with each beat of my heart.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I laughed.
“Get the fuck off me. You are sick. I want to see you bleed because I hate you.”
Hate. Passion personified. The strongest emotion you could feel for another.
I stared into her deep brown eyes for what felt like forever. Her mouth was open, spewing curses at me, but I couldn’t hear anything but the frantic beat of her heart.
She wants me to bleed for her.
Feeling like I was high, I reached into my back pocket, the angle awkward while trying to keep the squirming female underneath me. I brought out the pocket knife I always kept on me.
Her eyes widened when the silver glinted in the moonlight, and the heated friction of her struggles moments before ceased. She was still as a statue, her eyes bouncing from the metal tip to my own gaze.
“Jinx…what…what are you doing?”
I didn’t remove my gaze from hers. I tilted the blade and let it slice into my chest, my blood seeping through my shirt and dripping onto her body. She screamed, and I grimaced as I cut deeper. More of my essence dripped onto her body, coating her hair, her chest, her mouth.
