Page 134 of Manacled Hearts

“Beg me all you want, I’m not sparing your little cunt.” He all but growls in a low, rumbling tone.

I whimper as his grip tightens against the sides of my throat, a shallow breath catching beneath his fingers just as he dives under my panties and into the sleekness of me.

“Let me go!” I cry out, squirming harder as I reach behind and grab onto his sides.

“Scream louder, sugar, and we’ll have an audience to our depravity.” He grunts into my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine as a finger, or maybe two, press inside of me.

I’m so wet, the sound coming from between my legs is embarrassing. But it only encourages the man forcing himself on me.

“Oh god!” I whimper in a shaky voice, as he hooks his fingers inside of me, pulling me with him when he takes a step back.

“Are you sore?” he asks in a whisper, clearly breaking character.

“Yes.”

“I’ll st—”

“No!” I interrupt him, squeezing my inner muscles around his fingers, trapping him inside my warmth.

He doesn’t say another word. Instead, he bends me over, his hand moving from my throat to my nape, and it happens so fast, I barely have time to brace myself against the wall. His fingers come out, the head of his cock nudges my core for only a moment before he jerks forward, burying himself inside of me to the hilt, and through the slight ache of my former virginity, I draw ecstasy.

“Oh god!” I cry out, struggling to keep my tone low when I realize I can feel all of him.

No barrier. No condom. God, it’s incredible.

“You keep calling for this god, darling, but it’s me listening to your prayers.”

A wanton shudder rips through my whole body at his sinful words, and since I’ve never been a religious person, I would happily make him my god. My blue-eyed, murderous god whose maddening cock has strokes viciously inside my aching cunt. His hips slap against my ass, the sound so dirty and enticing, I grab onto his side with one hand, urging him to take more. His hand tightens around my throat, pressure growing both in my chest and temples from the air restriction, and I feel like calling for my god again, but all that comes out is unintelligible mumbles.

Pressure covers the bundle of nerves at the apex of my slit, his skilled digits circling with precise movements that send burning shocks through my core.

“No, no, no…” I chant, more to myself than him, hating that the heat is taking over me so quickly.

My knees tremble with each slither of pleasure cutting through me, and with one more deep stroke of his cock, I’m breaking apart. He releases my neck and covers my mouth in an instant, pressing over the lust-filled cry shattering through me. But he still fucks me through the orgasm, stroking that pleasure until it’s almost unbearable.

When the shaking subsides he pulls out, and I think he’s going to allow me a break, but I’m manhandled once more, flipped around, my back slammed against the wall just as soft, demanding lips crash against mine.

He kisses me like he couldn’t care if I like it or not, taking his pleasure from me like he has every right to, and something deep in my core contracts in ecstasy at the demand. Only, he’s gone before I can deepen the rough kiss, and with quick hands under my ass, I’m hauled up against him, back pressed into the wall for support. On instinct I grab onto his shoulders as I wrap my legs over his hips, and he adjusts me until he’s holding me with one hand, the tip of his cock prodding at my entrance once more.

“Christ, you’re too light.”

I’m about to argue that it’s not true, but he lowers me onto his cock, and all I manage is a lustful moan as I tighten my limbs around him. Before I know it, he’s not just guiding me up and down, but I’m bouncing onto him too, seeking the delightful pleasure this man gives me with each stroke of his cock. He holds my neck in a comforting possessiveness, and it hits me then… I’ve never known this type of unconditional safety. Maybe once, amongst my family, but not like this. I could relinquish all control, all sense of self, and I know this man would build a fortress around me to keep me safe, comfortable.

“Please, slide your hand… higher… into my hair.” The words are strained with the breathlessness of his thrusts, but also because they’re not easy to speak out loud.

His movements falter for a few moments, then he picks up the rhythm again, fingers slowly threading into the hairline of my nape. An icy feeling follows in their wake and deep in my chest freezing stillness grips my lungs.

“Red,” I speak quickly. “Just for the fingers. No further, hold them there,” I add quickly before Finnigan stops moving altogether.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his thrusts slowing.

I nod, and pull him against me, his chest flush to mine, as I force his lips to meet my own. I kiss him with as much passion I can muster, because goddamn it, this man deserves it all. His movements quicken once more, his hips jerking upwards as I bounce harder onto him, his cock stroking feverishly against a spot inside of me that makes my muscles shake with each grind. The bones of my back hurt as he crushes me against the wall, his breaths quickening, and his fingers press harder into my scalp, fueling and soothing the panic inside my chest all at the same time.

He breaks the kiss enough to whisper, “Touch yourself, Evie darling.”

My cheeks heat in an instant, my mind drunk on pleasure as I try to process what he’s asking of me. I do as told, reaching between us until my clit is beneath the tips of two fingers, and I cry out from the sensitivity.

“That’s it, my dirty little thing. Make yourself come with my cock stroking every bit of you,” he whispers those sinful words on a low rumble.

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