Page 15 of A Vow So Soulless

I grin, arousal and triumph swirling together low in my belly, a toxic cocktail.

“Caught you, Songbird.”

“I didn’t know you were awake!” comes her reply, breathless with guilt. She tries to wriggle away from me, but my glove is off and my hand shoved down her pants before she has a chance to run or hide.

“And I didn’t know you were such a good actress,” I coo viciously against her ear as my fingertips find her clit. Holy Mother of God, is she ever slippery down there. Her clit is taut and swollen, rich with need under my touch. I stroke it and groan, thrusting my hips forward the way I’ve been holding myself back from doing until now.

I told myself I wouldn’t touch her. Told myself I wouldn’t fuck her again tonight.

Told myself that wasn’t what she needed.

But maybe I was wrong, seeing how my sweet little liar of a Songbird was wide fucking awake while riding my dick through her PJs just now.

She doesn’t just need sleep.

She needs release.

With one swift movement, I’ve tugged her loose pants off of her and flipped her onto her back. I’ve got my hands on her thighs and my face buried between her legs before she can even take a breath to try to tell me, “no.”

She’s gearing up to say it now, though, I can tell. Or something similarly argumentative and disobedient. But I cut her off, drive all words out of her head with a hard, greedy suck on her clit.

She bucks and cries out, her quads straining under my fingers as I suck and circle with my tongue. And then I go lower, deeper, tasting her soaked seam. The slight metal tang of blood beneath her sweetness makes my dick pump uselessly against the air. I dip my tongue all the way inside, needing more of everything. More of her wetness, her blood, more of the little moans tearing out of her throat as if against her own will. Her hands find their way to my head, her fingers burying themselves in my hair. But it’s like she can’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer, and instead just digs her fingernails hard against my scalp. That zing of slight pain from her nails goes straight to my balls, and suddenly I can’t stand not being inside her. I can’t wait another minute. Not even another second.

I rise, leaving her on the trembling edge of orgasm, and drag her ankles up with me, keeping them pinned at my shoulders. At the last second, I lean to the side to flick on the bedside lamp. The first time I took her it was quick and hard, a crash of bodies in the darkness.

This time will probably also still be quick and hard.

But I’m going to watch her fall apart on me in the light this time.

Deirdre whimpers and throws her arms over her eyes, like she can’t bear to face the brightness, or me, or maybe her own treacherous desires.

She doesn’t have to watch if she doesn’t want to. I’ll watch enough for the both of us.

On my knees, her silken legs against my chest and shoulders, I line my fat, dripping head up to her sopping entrance. My spine is practically vibrating, my balls hot. My heart feels like it’s going to burst right out of my dick at the thought of sliding into that tight flesh I’ve already torn tonight.

Just the thought of it drives my hips forward violently, and I suck in a scorching breath as Deirdre’s channel envelops my tip.

Soon as I’m partway inside her she rips her arms away from her face, blue eyes wide and focused entirely on me. I drive myself deeper, fascinated by the way her face contorts with pain and pleasure at the same time.

I don’t necessarily want to hurt her.

But just like everything else – her body, her pleasure, her soul – her pain belongs to me.

Only me.

I brace, then give one more brutal thrust until I’m seated all the fucking way inside.

I could literally come like this. Without even moving, my agonized tip shoved up against her cervix, her wet walls stretching and convulsing around me.

Deirdre’s head is thrown back, her spine straining, her hands balled into fists around the bedspread. She’s still got her yellow silk sleep shirt on, and I’m too far-fucking-gone to even attempt to undo all those buttons. I seize each side of the garment and tug sharply outwards until silk rips and buttons go flying. And then I can see all of her, bare and beautiful beneath me, skin so creamy and white with its delicate freckling. Her nipples are flushed and pointed, and I run my gaze greedily down her form until it collides with the fiery thatch of hair between her legs.

I draw my hips back, groaning at the sight of my dick sliding out of her, completely soaked with her wetness. There’s an unmistakeable streak of scarlet in the slick, and I couldn’t stop myself even if I’d wanted to from shunting violently back in.

Deirdre cries out, and I splay a soothing hand – the one with the glove – across her abdomen. My bare hand grips her right breast, rubbing her sensitive nipple beneath the puckered surface of my scarred thumb until her pussy gives a mind-numbingly exquisite contraction around my shaft. She might be hurting, but she’s also still breathlessly close to coming. I can feel it in the swelling of her cunt, the tightening of her muscles, desperately milking me even as she bleeds for me.

I don’t even realize I’m speaking, let alone that I’ve slipped into Italian, until Deirdre’s gaze finds mine, glazed with arousal and confusion. Every thrust grows fiercer, making her breasts shake and her pussy clamp down as words spill out of me in an unstoppable tumble. Words about how fucking good she is, how bad, how beautiful, how sweet. How I’m going to marry her and fuck her again just like this, with her white dress hitched up high around her hips. I tell her how much I want her, how I need her. How I own her.

I think I maybe even tell her that I love her, but at that point I’m too lost to sensation to notice. The words are breaking apart anyway, splintering in the air until they’re nothing but senseless, rasping grunts mingling with Deirdre’s high moaning.

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