Page 163 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Soft lips trailed across my blood-soaked neck. John kissed me gingerly like I was made of glass. Precious.

He fingered a bloody curl with his red stained fingers.

We bled the same.

“I’ll take care of you, Aran, I promise,” he whispered reverently as he touched me like he wanted to.

Streaks of pain lanced across my spine.

“Do it quickly, please,” I begged, hyperconscious that the more pleasure he gave me, the more pain I’d experience.

If we were going to do this, it needed to be quick.

I knew what was to come. It was going to be agonizing.

I trailed my fingers down the outside of John’s tight black shirt, and the ridges of his stomach muscles tensed beneath my fingers. I paused when I neared his waist.

Sun god, I can’t do this.

John kissed along my jawline and nibbled at the sensitive skin. Spots blinded my vision.

Then his lips pressed against mine.

They parted.

He exhaled softly, the minty taste of his toothpaste familiar and welcoming.

His tongue swept forward, and I opened wider.

Callused hands cradled my face like I was precious. The softness of his kiss made my head spin.

It was like we were kissing away our last breaths.

My tongue swept tentatively against his, and he groaned into my mouth like I’d done something horribly wanton.

His thumbs swept up and down over my cheekbones. He traced the outline of my eyes, and my lashes fluttered against his fingers.

The ringing in my ears intensified, and everything became clearer as pleasure and pain spiked in concert. The world was crisp around me.

A wall of fire danced around us.

The flames warmed the chilly air and made the temperature comfortable.

John kept tracing his fingers across my eyelids like he was caressing a lover. Like we weren’t faking it for a competition. Like he adored me.

He kissed me passionately.

The urge to cry intensified.

“Please, quickly,” I begged and fisted his shirt.

John’s hands trailed downward to my waistband, and they lingered on my lower belly. I made a noise in the back of my throat as I wanted something I’d never known.

Can he tell I have no idea what I’m doing?

My ears rang.

My vision clouded.

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