Page 27 of Ruthless God

“S-Snow.” My name sounds smooth as whiskey on her lips.

The crown of my dick tingles, and I feel my balls tighten as my orgasm travels up my spine. I come inside of her.

I pull out, light streaks of blood coating my dick. I tuck myself back into my pants as she gets up, yanking up her pants over her hips.

“I’m not on birth control; you shouldn’t have come inside of me,” she murmurs.

“It’s my pussy, I’ll come in it if I want to,” I snap.

“I’ll never be yours, and you’ll never get to touch me again.”

I grab her by the hair. “You will always be mine, and one day, you’re going to say it.”

“Fuck you,” she spits.

“You did. And you loved it.”

She walks in the direction of her apartment with me following behind her. Her face is burning red, but she tries her damnedest to ignore my presence. Crickets hum in the background as the moon peeks between the leafy trees. I feel the tension radiating between us.

“You don’t have to walk me home. I can walk myself.”

“No, you can’t. I’m sick of you roaming the woods out here by yourself.”

She stops to look up at the tall trees, shaking her head. “You’re the one who has been following me around campus.”

I have to keep an eye out on her to keep her safe. No other men are allowed to speak to her, especially now after my dick hashad a taste of her. Old feelings I had of her are resurfacing and I don’t like it. It pisses me the fuck off that she has this hold on me.

Once we arrive at her apartment, she slams the door in my face, but I open it, walking behind her to her room.

She removes her hoodie, and shirt, the one I gave her to keep, then she removes her pants.

I glance at the faint scars on her arms. How did she get those? Has she been cutting herself again? I thought she broke the habit. If I ask, she’ll lie and try to hide it, but once I get a chance, I’ll go through her cabinet to look for razors.

She disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, so I go to her painting area and steal all of her brushes and paint oil, tucking them in my pocket. Little does she know, she’s moving in with me after the engagement ball, and if she fights me on it, I’ll just kidnap her. Lyrical needs to understand that she doesn’t have a say in her life anymore.

I hear the shower running and debate if I should join her, but she needs her space, so I lie in her bed, scrolling through Instagram. Savannah tags me in her post of two love birds sitting on a branch, so I untag myself. I wish she would get the hint that I don’t want her. After the night Lyrical sucked my dick, I told Savannah I didn’t want to be with her but she keeps trying to push herself onto me.

Once Lyrical is done showering, she walks out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body.

“I hate you,” she whispers. “I hate everything about you. You’re destroying my life. First, you humiliate me, then you fuck me like you want me.”

I stand there, not knowing what to say. Her words hit me in the chest, and I shouldn’t care about her. I don’t like the pain I caused on her face.

“I hate that I enjoyed it. The way you control me. I hate that you gave me my fantasy, but you do things to keep hurting me!”

She screams at the top of her lungs, fresh tears falling down her face. Without thinking, I remove the cotton towel and stare at her naked body. I shove her to the bed, spreading her wide, getting a good look at her pussy. I place my mouth on her clit, tasting her again. She’s addictive, like a drug that I can’t quit. Her legs shake after several moments and I lick up her wetness after she comes. I ignore the way my dick throbs in my pants and the urge to release my cum all over her.

What can I say? I’m not giving her what she wants for her benefit. I’m doing it for me. To make myself happy.

Someone knocks on the door as I toss the blanket over Blue’s body, and I sit next to her. Her friend with the lavender hair pops her head in. She sees Blue sit up, resting her head on my chest, and her eyebrows climb up her forehead. The one Irvin got his eyes set on. The one I threatened to hurt if he tries to get revenge on me for almost drowning him. My eyes go down to her hand to see she’s holding a pocketknife.

Does she believe she can protect Lyrical from me? No one can protect her from me, except me. She takes in Lyrical’s tear-stricken face and the way I cling to her.

“Are you okay, Lyrical?”

I whisper in her ear, “Tell her you’re okay. Get rid of her.”

She nods, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her apple bodywash lingers in the air, causing my dick to stir in my pants. “Yes, I’m having an emotional breakdown.”

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