Page 63 of Fear Me, Love Me

I hastily shut my mouth.

Tyrant draws his fingers out of me and a moment later they’re replaced by his warm, slippery tongue. He licks my sex, my clit, and even pushes his tongue inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut and moan, horrified and turned on at the same time.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he breathes and laps at me again.

I glance behind me. There’s blood on his lower lip, and he sucks it into his mouth and swallows like I’m delicious.

“You’re crazy,” I whimper.

“And you’re about to get fucked so hard you’ll feel me for a week.” He keeps a firm hold of my hip and I hear the clink of his belt and then a zipper. Something alarmingly thick—was he always thisthick?—pushes against my tight channel and then slides roughly into me. I cry out and brace my hands against the book stacks.

Tyrant curses under his breath and thrusts deep, over and over. He seems to be enjoying the sight of our sex as much as the sensation because I can feel his fingers as he twists them on his shaft. “Fuck yes, Vivienne. You blood-red little vixen. You’re getting your period all over me.”

My inner muscles convulse in pleasure at his filthy words.

A moment later, he starts to fuck me in earnest, and I have to swallow down my cries. I’m so sensitive and tender down there that every thrust feels like he’s impaling me right through my body.

“Oh, look at that,” Tyrant says with relish as he draws out of me. I think he’s talking to himself until he grasps my hair and forces me to half turn toward him. “I saidlook at it.”

Over my shoulder, his erect cock is coated in my blood. Glistening with it. Bright red all the way down his shaft.

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” he asks. When he catches my eye, he adds, “What a little slut,” and thrusts into me once more.

I yelp and grab hold of the shelf, but that doesn’t stop my knees from burning against the carpet. “You’re making this embarrassing on purpose.”

Tyrant gives a nasty laugh. “We could be in my bed. Instead, you’re getting carpet burn on your knees and bleeding down your thighs in the college library. Good girls who stay in my bed and obey all my rules get nice Tyrant. Bad girls who sneak off get mean Tyrant. Keep pushing me, angel, because I fucking love being mean to you.”

Mean Tyrant is fucking me so hard and deep that it hurts, and yet I’m braced against the bookshelf so he can keep slamming into me. The pain feels heavenly. I crave him so much.

“Look at you arching your back for me. You love mean Tyrant too, don’t you?”

“I—ah—need—” I manage between moans. The threat that I’m going to feel him for a week wasn’t an idle one. Once the ache fades, I’ll still remember every excruciating minute of being screwed in the library. “Oh, God, Tyrant, please don’t stop,” I whimper over and over. “Please, Tyrant, please.”

As I climax, he groans and grips my hips with sticky, bloody fingers. “Your cunt fucking loves me,” he says, groaning with his own orgasm. He pumps into me several more times and then draws slowly out of me.

I try to sit up, but he pushes me down again.

“Not so fast. I want to see this.”

I don’t know what he means until he pushes his thumbs into me and spreads me open. Nothing happens for a moment, and then warm fluid gushes out of me and runs down my thighs.

“Oh, fuck yes. Your blood and all my cum, dripping down your pretty flesh. What a well-fucked, sticky mess you are,” he says with a hum of appreciation, and then spanks my ass, making me jump.

My cheeks are so hot from embarrassment and arousal that I know my face is bright red. I wonder if he’s going to leave me on the floor in the stacks, a mess of blood and cum.

Tyrant finally lets me sit up, and I raise myself onto my knees, my body shuddering with pleasure and horror. That was insane. I don’t think I’ll ever mentally clamber back into my own body after simultaneously being sent to heaven and hell on the end of his cock.

To my surprise, he helps me to my feet, takes his black trench coat off, and wraps it around me. “There’s a bathroom over here. Come on.”

It’s an accessible toilet with room for both of us, and he pushes me in there and shuts the door behind us. I reach for a paper towel, but he seizes my wrist.

“I’ll do it.”

My brow wrinkles with confusion. “First you call me a slut, and now you want to clean me up?”

“Not any slut.Mylittle slut.” Tyrant peels the trench coat from my body and pats the sink. “Put your hands here, messy girl.”

I plant my hands on the sink. When his hand slides over my ass, I can’t help but pop it out for him.

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