Page 104 of SNOB

“Fuck,” Pulling out, a line of saliva strings from her mouth. “You take me so fucking well.” I let her catch her breath, all for a second before that pull takes over me again. “Stand up.” Pulling on her strands, she lets me pull her towards the nearest wall. Pressing her against it, I lock my eyes on hers and as I let my fingers graze her cheeks. “I’m sorry but I need to remind you what you are.” Finding her folds with my fingers, I slide two between them. “Mine. And the way you’re wet for me proves that.” It makes it all the easier to push myself deep inside her until she gasps.

Her hands wrap around me as she digs her nails into the back of my skin as I pull out, then push inside her again. “Mac,” she moans and as much as it makes me throb inside her, they can’t hear this. My hand comes to her mouth, quieting her, but feeling her breath against my palm only makes me want her more.

“You’re mine, Butterfly.” Moving my palm from her mouth, I push my fingers down her throat instead. “Mine. You understand?” My thrusts get harder and deeper when she nods before we’re pressed together against the cold brick. A feeling I could sink into forever. “All mine.”

Ember

Mine.

Mac’s words ring through my head and I hold onto them as much as my hand holds onto his shirt.

He stops only to pull it over his head and when his skin hits mine, my body turns to glitter. It’s alive again, the feeling of Mac pressed against me like a mirage. Like he’s not real. But the way he settles so deep inside me, filling me with every inch of him tells me different.

He works his hips in the way I know Mac does. He bites my neck in the way I know Mac does. The way he dominates my body hasn’t changed, except this time? This time it’s like we’re giving into it. This time, we’re acknowledging the hold we have on each other. Every thrust takes me closer, his finger trailing from my throat to my ass. The wetness from my saliva makes it easy for him to slide in and out as he pulses against my walls. My head falls back against the wall, letting him overtake me, letting him prove to me what I am.

His.

His body on mine erases every one that came before him.

This cell becomes heaven.

“I need you to come for me,” he groans in my ear. He didn’t give me the purple concoction Picasso gave him. For the first time, I’m feeling everything. And he wants me to. “Do you hear me, Butterfly?” Hearing that name on his tongue makes an energy flow through me, my cheeks heating, my body aching for release. “Give it all to me.” My mouth opens, another moan escaping me as ecstasy runs through my veins. The red light flickers, my brain with it. “Yeah, that’s it,” he coaxes. “That orgasm is mine. Just like you are. You’re fucking mine.”

A hand comes to my mouth as I start to wail, a release rushing through me like I’ve never felt before. My body collapses between the brick and his body. Warmth and cold. He holds me while I shake, and then his lips replace his palm.

It’s a quick kiss but it feels like forever as I empty my all onto him. It’s enough to make me tremble again as his cock pulses between my legs.

It’s enough to prove I’m his. Despite everything. Despite it all.

He pulls out, taking a step back and my body follows, falling against him. He catches me. He always does.

“Get ready, Butterfly,” he says, his finger under my chin. Looking into his eyes makes hell feel like home. “We still have two hours.”

“Time’s up.”

The door creaks open just as I collapse against Mac’s body again.

For the first time in a long time, I’m tired. But it's not from fighting. It's not from overthinking or running away. I’m tired from the way Mac didn’t let up until he used the time we have to get every orgasm he can out of me.

To help me find peace.

Mac lets me fall gently to the floor as he pulls up his pants, the cold concrete a contrast to the heat I felt with my body against him.

“How much?” Mac asks, playing it cool.

“I see you enjoyed yourself,” Picasso laughs, his monstrous tone echoing against the walls. I know what a monster is. They come in different shapes. Different forms. Mac’s a monster. But he’s my monster. “I knew you would enjoy this firecracker. You’ll need to get a membership and she’ll be here. Tonight, we have other appointments for our little Butterfly.”

Glancing up at Mac, I can see how white his knuckles get in those fists, even under the red light. “She’s mine,” Mac says. “How much? I’ll take her.”

“Woah,” Picasso says. “This won’t be cheap.”

“She’s worth it. Name your price.”

THIRTY-TWO

EMBER

“You okay?”

---