Page 140 of Sin Like the Devil

“Anything.” The unexpected admission breaks free.

With the pocketknife still slicing into her neck, I lower my mouth to hers then slam our lips together. I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t care if she wants me to kiss her or not. I want to taste her fear and see if she’s as terrified of this as I am.

Perhaps we’re not so different after all. I’m holding her at knife point and taking exactly what I want, regardless of whether she wants to give it. In many ways, she’s doing the exact same thing to me.

Hatred and desire collide hard enough to split the fucking atom.

I shove my tongue into her mouth with the necessary force to prise her lips apart. I don’t know if she grants me access or simply accepts defeat, but her mouth opens up to me.

Teeth clinking, our kiss is a violent duel. I’m determined to find the answer to my inner turmoil. Even if it means tunnelling my way inside her soul to find those elusive secrets. I have to know why.

Why now?

Why here?

Why her?

Old Ripley was a pleasurable thrill. An intense fuck. Spanking her until she bruised satisfied me. Dragging my blade across her skin and smearing the resultant blood spill enthralled me. Holding her on the cusp of an orgasm made her irrevocably mine.

I broke her.

Claimed her.

Kept a piece of her soul as a souvenir.

Little did I know that she did the same thing to me. All this time, she’s been waltzing around with a twisted part of me living and breathing depravity into her too. The girl I broke became the ruthless woman I created.

Perhaps I’ve broken her enough.

Perhaps now I should worship what I created.

My mouth rips from hers, nipping and sucking from her chin to her throat. Her tiny whimpers make my cock twitch as I slide the knife free and admire the uneven slash it leaves behind. All that glistening blood. Perfectly formed droplets of pleasure.

I lick the crimson beads up. Copper ripples across my tastebuds, far sweeter than any other nectar. Her essence is inside me now. I’ll be able to find the control I’m looking for in the metallic tang of her blood.

“Xander,” she pants. “I… we can’t… Raine. I have to see him.”

My temper burns white-hot. “He can wait. You were mine first.”

“Please… No. I can’t do this!”

Her fresh blood still slicked across my mouth, I grab the edges of her towel and rip them apart. Her now semi-dry panties and bra are revealed beneath the rough, hospital-grade cotton.

Ripley recoils and tries to hide herself, but I prevent her from covering up. She’s hidden from me for long enough.

“I don’t care what you want,” I state fiercely. “I care what you need. What we both need.”

Her eyes are gaping saucers. Not even I recognise the raw possession in my own voice. The sheer breadth of emotion and passion colouring each syllable instead of a thick coating of frost.

Blood smears over her collarbones and chest as I trace a path to her breasts. She’s struggling to escape, still protesting like I believe a word she says. But as my bloodstained lips clamp around her left nipple, those protests morph into high-pitched moans.

I bite down, sucking the pert bud into my mouth. Hardness rolls between my lips and grazes against my teeth, each suck serving to heighten her arousal, evidenced by panting moans. I grab her right breast and squeeze, adding enough pressure to elicit just a hint of pain.

“Xander!” she mewls. “Please… stop.”

Still massaging her breast, I release her now reddened nipple and skate lower still. My lips coast a path down to the apex of her thighs. She whines those pathetic little complaints all while lifting her hips to seek out what her body craves.

I kiss the soft curve of her belly before moving lower. Despite soaked cotton covering the desire she’s so frantically trying to hide, I can smell the promise of her wet cunt. All mine. I bring the knife to the elastic holding her panties in place.

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