Page 197 of Endgame
Then he pops his fingers out of his mouth, and I can’t speak. I’m beyond words when he swipes his crimson tongue over his lips.
“Wife.” One swift motion, and he tears my panties off me. Nothing holds the blood back. I thought I was exposed before. I was wrong. Epically wrong. “What part ofyou’re minedon’t you understand?”
My eyes lower to the floor, cheeks flushed. “But…all this blood.”
“Mine.” With my chin locked between two fingers, he takes his cock out.
I steal a glance at him. He’s so hard. Throbbing and heavy in his hand, the tip wet with precum.
“Your heart is mine.” When he jerks himself, I forget about bleeding. About my cramps. Wrong or right, none of that matters anymore. “Your blood is mine.”
Us being step-niece and uncle means nothing to him.
To me either.
The only thing that races through my mind is him.
Everett. Everett. Everett.
Everett and his flexed muscles. His hands that lift me in the air and slam me up against the wall.
His cock that impales me where I’ve been aching for him. I wrap my legs around him, digging my nails into his shoulders.
I let him fuck me with abandon. Allowing him to own me with his dick.
“Fuck, Aurora.” His lips crush mine, biting, sucking.
His skilled tongue rubs against mine, tasting me. His thick cock fills me, stretching me.
“Feels so good. Being enveloped in you. Have your pussy soaking me.” He goes as deep as he can, making me feel whole again. “Jesus. Don’t ever take that away from me.”
“I won’t.” I’m hungry for his mouth, for his filthy words. His mind-numbing kisses. My fingers dig into his shoulders, claiming him just as much as he claims me. “I won’t.”
He uses his thumb to circle my clit, and I explode. Bright light shines behind my eyes, my lungs burning. I yank Everett close to me, sinking my teeth into his shoulder.
I scream into his shirt, unable to silence myself.
It’s impossible, with how he keeps fucking me the way he does.
Even my cramps bow down to him. They’re all but gone as I come for so long, I think I might pass out.
“Good girl,” he says as he pulls out.
No. No, he can’t. Not when he hasn’t come.
But he doesn’t ask if I’m okay with this. Everett drags me to the floor, his fingers lacing into my hair.
Humiliation burns hot in my throat, tears stinging my eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Yes, you did.”
He yanks hard, pain sparking at my scalp as he forces me down to my knees. I’m level with his cock, slick with my blood, throbbing inches from my lips.
As twisted as it is, I don’t feel disgusted. I see it like Everett does. This is a symbol of us. A dark, intimate mark of what we’ve just shared.
“Wait.” Then I remember what he said. “What did I do?”
“You remember what happens when you make a mess of my cock, princess.” His hand clamps the base as he shoves it against my lips. “Clean it up.”
