Page 28 of His Bride

He holds me there and uses short, hard jabs, and I’m unable to breathe as I close my eyes, consumed by him, in all the ways.

“Look at me when I fuck your mouth.”

I struggle some more because he’s going fast and rough. Prying my eyes open, I look up to meet his piercing gaze. His pupilsare dilated. Pure lust sears through them, stinging my skin raw. But there’s anger there, too. Something black and bitter. A rage that lurks and corrupts. It’s thick and threaded with lust, and I’m torn into all directions at once.

I start to struggle, trying to get free as he uses my mouth like his own personal cocksleeve, like that’s all I’m good for. And it turns me on.

I don’t want it to, but it does. I want more of it. I want every version of unhinged. What I don’t want is for it to tear open the already oozing wounds.

He rears back, and I quickly mumble, “Stop,” before he slams back in, stuffing my mouth with his cock.

Black sparks burst into life behind my eyes and my lungs hurt, my body suddenly acutely aware that I’m not breathing right.

I buck beneath him, thrashing, and somehow manage to pull my arm free. I slap at his chest, pounding my fist into his thigh, gagging around him, until he finally pulls out.

“Jesus. Goddammit!” He lets go of me like I’m a rag he doesn’t want, and I cough, gasping for air. “This is you,” he spits out. “It’s all you, and fuck you for doing this…for making me…fuck!”

“Get off me, you animal! I make you do this?”

“Not what I meant,” he snaps, moving down until he’s between my legs.

There’s drool all around my mouth, and I reach to clean it, but he grabs my arms.

“No. Leave the drool.” Caelian comes in close. The smoke-laden alcohol on his breath shouldn’t be attractive. It is. It makes me hot.

God, I’m sick. Sick in the head because I want his cock back.

I narrow my eyes, defiance sliding back into place, and grab a corner of his shirt I ruined, cleaning my face with it. His reaction is to push my legs apart as he sits up, and I try to kick him, but he’s not having it.

He hauls my waist up so only my upper back and shoulders are on the floor, then wraps his hands around my upper thighs, my pussy right there for him to see.

Caelian blows on my wet, tender flesh. “Your cunt could sink fucking ships. They’d go down, all the masts raised.”

“Let me go.”

That’s a lie. I want him to feast on me, eat me into orgasm. I want him to shout to the sky how much he needs me, wants me, how he simply has to have me. I want him to tell me he didn’t mean what he said.

Deep down, Iknowhe didn’t mean what he said. It’s the anger woven through the lust that’s tightening around him, little by little.

He leans his head to the side as he gazes at my sex. “You got this going for you,” he says, licking his lips. “This pussy is a masterpiece, so fucking gorgeous.”

The words twist and turn in my head. They’re a surface compliment, deeply layered in poison and anger I know culminates in his blaming me for everything.

I already blame myself.

Just one moment of a soothing balm from him, a touch, a look, a word…I need that, to take the blame away. Just for one pathetic moment. A break like the sun peeking out. And sex. I’ll take that if it’s the only thing on offer.

But like this, the anger isn’t passion-coated. It’s just rage, spiky, harsh, and sticks in my throat while turning up the heat.

“Caelian, we can’t?—”

“Your pussy smells like sex, and it’s driving me insane.”

I try to wriggle free, but it’s a half-assed attempt because, God, I want this. I want him to fuck me, push me over the edge in the ways that has me free-falling from this shitty reality we’ve been living in the last few weeks.

I wish I could silence the voices telling me this is wrong, that this won’t fix anything, maybe even make it worse.

“We need to stop,” I say, and he snarls, eyes glittering, and suddenly buries his head between my thighs, sucking my clit into his mouth.

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