Page 97 of The Ripper

Body and soul, in life and in death, up in heaven or down in the hottest corner of hell, Arella was mine.

Her hips writhed beneath me, her nails scratched my back, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. The stitches in my shoulder ripped open from the strain of my muscles and a drop of blood fell on her chest. My nostrils flared as I pulled almost all the way out, then sank back in, more blood dripping down on her.

The sight brought out the ravenous beast inside me, and I glanced down between us, gritting my teeth when I saw the smeared blood on my cock, lighter than the thick fluid flowing out of my wound, and I lost my mind completely, pausing mid thrust with the air stuck in my throat.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered as the tears fell out and she lifted her hips to meet me.

I pressed my forehead against hers, swallowing audibly, almost as if I was trying to soak up her energy and regain some composure. “I’ll hurt you if I move now,” I whispered back, closing my eyes, desperately trying to reduce my heartbeat.

But I couldn’t.

I was an ocean of emotions I had never felt before, and I had no idea how to contain and control them. They were spilling out of me along with the blood from my shoulder, overwhelming me.

She tilted her head so that her mouth hovered below mine and her breath brushed against my lips. “Then hurt me.”

I shook my head frantically, preparing to pull out completely to regain my sanity, so I could go back to a less primitive version of myself.

She had other plans.

Arella grabbed my shoulders with incredible force, her nails pressing into my open wound. She was strong, and I was unprepared for what followed, because she flipped us over with ease and sank down on me, a scream ripping out of her throat as she gave herself a moment to adjust.

My eyes flared madness when she cried out, watching as she tentatively began to move her hips while resting her palms on my abdomen to support herself. I was entranced as her breasts bounced with each slow movement, and I took in every crease on her face as she moaned, savoring the feel of her pussy squeezing me in, mesmerized by the sight of my blood straining her porcelain skin.

My mind was caught in a vortex of sensations I never experienced before the blonde tornado on top of me, because sex never felt like this. This was something else entirely, so different from any other experience that it turned my head to fucking dust.

This was tainted innocence, an angel succumbing to its primal instincts, a slope to unmistakable sin, ice melting into fire, an open-armed invitation to take from her, and take I did.

My hands gripped her hips to hold her still, and I slammed into her, grunting as her scream echoed in the room. All that could be heard now was the depraved melody of my moans, her whimpers, and the sound of skin slapping against skin. And with each whimper that fell off her lips, I found myself free falling without a parachute.

I knew my world was a mess at the moment, and that Arella was the only pillar holding up the madness. Without her, I would become a shell, merely a soulless vessel created to destroy, because what else could happen to a monster without his heart?

I hit rock bottom when I felt her orgasm ripple through her body. She pressed her chest against mine, clinging to me as her spasms vibrated against my skin, and I came inside her, tightly wrapping my arms around her waist as if I wanted to have her sewn to me.

She was safe in my embrace, for that was her place.

That’s where she belonged.

“That was…” she began, searching for her words.

“Transcendental,” I finished her sentence as I turned us to our sides, still facing each other, and I pulled out of her.

She flinched at the sudden emptiness, and I kissed her forehead and held her against me until our breathing slowed.

“I need to stitch you up again,” she whispered as her eyes rested on my shoulder.

“Later.” I shook my head. “Now I only want to hold you,” I continued, tracing circles over her back. “How do you feel?”

“Sore,” she wrinkled her nose and rubbed her thighs together. “And a little dirty,” she giggled.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t sore, not to mention my ego couldn’t take the punch,” I laughed as I got out of bed, then picked her up and carried her to the bathroom.

After seating her on the counter, I ran the water in the tub and threw in a lemon-scented bath bomb.

I bought dozens of those things after I kissed her for the first time.

~ Shit, man, who the fuck are you? Lemon-scented bath bombs? Are you hearing yourself?

~ I’m hearing you and I wish I didn’t.

---