Page 47 of Descend into Madness

When I’m with Tweed, I’m not the little girl who never grew up. Or the crazy bitch people would prefer to be locked away than leave unleashed. But old habits die hard and I hold his stare with a bit too much focus to concede.

“You’ve been waiting so long to be dominated. Why deny it now?” Without waiting for an answer, Tweed grabs my thighs and hoists me up, sliding me onto the length of his glistening cock. It fills me entirely, this opened angle giving him full access. Free from the chest plate, his torso is exposed. Abs flex, his chest rising and falling evenly. I would trace his tattoos with my tongue if I could reach, the snake slithering amongst the roses threatening to take a bite out of me. The stopwatch inked on Tweed’s hip has stopped ticking, both hands on number six.

He doesn’t care for my exploration. Tweed is intent to screw me into submission, and that’s exactly what he tries to do. Locking my ankles behind his back, I try to slow his harsh movements, but it doesn’t work. I can’t control Tweed as much as I can’t understand him. Holding my stare, his eyes bore through mine, a snarl pulling at his top lip.

“Do! Not! Cum!” Each word is punctuated with a hard thrust. My core tightens, his words having the opposite effect. Stretching my head to the side, gripping the belt to hold myself up, my eyes scrunch closed.

Teeth sink into my areola and I gasp, Tweed’s mouth closing around my nipple. He sucks hard, sending jolts of pleasure encased in pain directly to my clit. I push my chest into him, wishing my hands could claw through his blonde hair and down his broad back. I’d scar him so deeply, not even his vampire blood could heal the marks. Moving onto the other side, I roll my hips in time with his increasing pace.

Not even Tweed can hide the effects my pussy is having on him, a strained expression overtaking his face when his head rises to my lips. I push my mouth forward on instinct and he diverts last minute, the shadow of a smirk denting his cheek.

I’m going to slap him. The instant I am free.

The blunt head of his cock slams into me. Faster, deeper. His nails dig into my ass, fingers drawing closer to my puckered hole. I push into him, wanting it all. Willing to take everything he gives. Ripples flutter against the inside of my pussy, my toes curl. Tweed’s realization dawns.

“Malice,” he growls, warning me to obey. Unfortunately for Tweed, all I hear is a dare to do the exact opposite.

“Fuck you,” I grind out, convulsing all over his cock. Throwing my head back on a scream, his teeth sink into my throat. My climax intensifies. Pleasure rips me in half, throes of ecstasy blinding me. Preparing to break my fingers through the death-like grip on the leather, I hold myself still while Tweed powers on. Fucking my body, claiming my blood. He sucks in time with his thrusts, drawing untold noises from me. The sea of my rapture doesn’t cease, and soon enough Tweed has fallen over the precipice with me.

Hurtling into the unknown, his body falls into mine. Spurts of cum fill me with nowhere to go, dripping onto the floor at his feet. Eventually, finally, Tweed stills, his head on my shoulder. The warm trickle of blood pools along my collar bone and travels down my cleavage.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you’re punishing me for something,” I breathe through my ragged pants. Sweat coats my skin, my wrists growing as sore as the ache between my legs. Tweed grunts, rising his dulled gaze to mine.

“Perhaps for sending me back into the Enchanted Wood for the dickhead I share DNA with.” Ahh, there it is. “That beast tore me to pieces, took days to knit my limbs back together.” I cock my brow, fighting with myself to ignore the hard-rock cock still buried inside of me.

“All those women in your bed don’t seem to mind stroking you better.” This time, Tweed does smile and I almost forget I’m trying to be mad at him. A smooth curve from one hidden dimple to the next, his jaw appearing squarer. It changes his entire face from handsome brooding asshole to stunning brooding asshole. The prominent Adams apple in his throat bobs.

“Green really isn’t your color,” he muses, taking a strand of my wild hair in his fingers. “Try orange, it’s much more becoming.”

“Ex-excuse m-me, Sir?” a quivering voice sounds from the doorway. Tweed shifts to the side, blocking my view and I’m not sure who’s benefit that is for. “You’re required back in the m-market place. There’s been a…development in finding Al-”

“I’m on my way,” Tweed quickly interjects. His green eyes hold mine steadily and I exhale. That was a close one. The door closes and Tweed unhooks my hands before setting me down. Pulling out of me, he doesn’t care that the evidence of what he just did to me is running down the inside of my legs. In fact, I think he prefers it. “There’s a hot tub and sauna through that door. Relax out of sight until I return. Then we’ll…talk.”

“Talk?” I lift a brow, popping a hand on my hip. Tweed nods slowly, unsure but agreeing anyway.

“Whatever you wish to know, I will tell you.” Whipping his belt from the locker and not bothering with his chest plate, Tweed tucks himself into his pants as he walks, shoving the locker room door open with every ounce of tension back between his shoulders. I sigh, picking up the pieces of my spirit and slink towards the room he pointed out, peeling off my dress as I go. Pushing through the door, a cloud of steam envelopes me.

“You took your time,” a voice seeps through and I flinch. The steam clears and a mirror image of the man that just ruined me is sprawled inside the hot tub on a mounted, stone base. Cash tilts his head, his eyes drinking me in. Particularly the puddle of blood at my neck, dripping down the centre of my body that has his nostrils flaring. Easy smirk in place, his tattooed arm thrown over the back of the tub. From his fingers, the Hatter’s stopwatch swings back and forth. I gasp, rushing forward and Cash drops it as my hands lunge forward to catch it.

“Did you pickpocket this from me in the woods?” I frown. The hour hand is pointing to the number six and I look to the ground. Instead of answering, Cash chuckles.

“Come here. I have something else you want,” Cash tells me. Those same fingers that held the watch reach out. Placing it down safely on the pile of his clothes, I take his hand and climb the two stone steps. The water is gloriously hot, bubbling and hiding Cash’s body from his chest downwards. His hand doesn’t release mine, pulling me effortlessly into his lap. His dick juts between us and I roll my eyes.

“Is it your dick, the thing I’m supposed to want?” I quirk a brow. His smile deepens.

“Usually, but not this time.” Sliding a wet hand around my nape, Cash’s mouth crashes onto mine. He catches me off guard, my lips opening on a gasp that he takes full advantage of and spearing his tongue inside. Gliding over mine, Cash does indeed give me what I want.

A band-aid for the open scar on my soul. A crevice of closure I haven’t been able to fill. Anyone can be fucked and cast aside, but to be kissed. To feel wanted. That’s the side of myself I struggle with the most. Someone so independent shouldn’t crave comfort like I do. Shouldn’t yearn for intimacy. But here Cash is, giving it to me anyway.

Melting into his body, my hands travel the span of his steady shoulders. His thick traps dip into bulging biceps. The Tweedles had the glow up of the century, and I’m glad I’m here to see it. Damn. I’m just glad I’m here. Amidst the chaos and mystery, I’m home.

Succumbing to the freedom Cash provides, I dive further into his kiss. My tongue dances with his, skating back and forth where no one is more in control than the other. We’re one body, one being, falling into tune of the song our spirts create. His hands shift into my hair, massaging my scalp and I break away on a sigh. Heavy-lidded eyes, relaxed limbs. I sink into Cash’s body, languid in the water raging around us.

“Let me show you the way your body should be worshipped, Crazy One,” he mutters beside my ear, and without reservation, glides my channel, slickened by his brother’s cum, onto his solid shaft.

28

Turns out, the locker room doesn’t hold many clothing options for humans. Luckily, the red basketball jersey I chose is long enough to cover the rear hole in my leggings for a tail of some sort. Another plus side is Cash groans when I bend over to finish tying the heart-printed sneakers on my feet. White otherwise with red laces, I’d have easily worn these in the human world. I stand, turning to find him by the door with Tweed’s chest plate secured in place.

---