Page 27 of Imprisoned Obsession

I trace my hand down her neck, grazing the steady pulse as I follow the delicate curvature of her shoulder. I don’t stop until I get to her wrist to count the beats of her pulse, but I’m on a journey for something else.

Her body trembles. “The scars on your back.”

I thought the tattoos had covered up the scars. The renowned tattoo artist had assured me that his ink wouldn’t fade as fast as others do. It has been years since I got it done; I think it’s time to have it retouched before the scars intimidate Willa.

“Does it hurt?” She blinks as she tilts her head and voluntarily gazes into my eyes.

Dare I hope that concern for me is causing the redness in her eyes?

“Always,” I whisper vaguely.

My smooth dance up her arm reveals nothing but supple skin. I put pressure on her shoulder, testing the resiliency of her muscles and studying the shade of flushed pink caused by my fingers.

She protests, but it goes over my head as I yank on the collar of her shirt. The top button pops off, and my greedy eyes feast on a patch of her creamy skin. Willa gasps and jerks away, but I hold her still and bury my face in the smooth column of her neck.

Sweet and addictive, her scent caresses my lungs as I breathe deeply.

I was correct in the assumption I made earlier.

It is Willa, she’s the reason the constant aching has stopped. It has taken me this long to realize the truth because she’s such a lovely distraction.

My body craves contentment so much, but I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that she is the key to my solace. My brain knows that if I cling to the phantom pain and associate it with her somehow, all of this will be for nothing.

Survival instincts, I realize ambiguously.

Subconsciously, my body has been doing everything it can to keep her as pure as possible. I don’t want my thoughts of her to be tainted by unpleasant memories until I have the ability to separate them from her in my mind.

I can do that now. I can look at her and kiss her pretty lips without my hated memories corrupting the experience.

I can bite into her skin and not have the scars on my back aches in retaliation.

“Ow!” she whines pitifully when my teeth sink into her fragile skin.

I bit down hard. I must mark her, brand her as mine even if it means breaking the skin. Traces of copper coat my tongue as I lick the teeth marks with a grin on my face.

“With you here, I don’t feel the scars anymore,” I purr huskily into her ear.

I lift her shivering body and toss her over my shoulder. Slinking a rough hand over her creamy thigh, I grope the softness and turn my head to bite through the shirt. She squeals in pain as my teeth marks are left on her hip.

She feebly hits my back as I stalk down the hall. I move towards the master bedroom instead of hers; she’s not going back there after tonight.

The door slams shut, shattering the silence. I march to the unused bed and harshly throw her down. Harder than necessary, but I want to stop her intention to flee by knocking the breath out of her.

Fear clouds her eyes as she scurries away from me on the bed, and the comforter wrinkles at her efforts. I climb after her, my eyes following the quiver of her lips and the harsh swallow of her throat.

Desire creeps across my back. I snatch her dainty ankle in a vice grip, dragging her back to the center of the bed. Her little bones yield to my strength as I force them to grind against each other.

The pain in her breakable features is striking.

My rough fingers bury themselves under her jaw, clutching her throat with hostility as I dig into her supple skin.

“Elio,” she whimpers so prettily.

My cock jerks violently within its tight confines. I need a release to let this violent streak go. I need to cum inside her tight little cunt, to stain her pretty pussy with virile cum.

I hush her with a mean growl. “You’re going to be a good girl for me.”

“Otherwise, I will not regret having to hurt you.” I constrict her shuddering throat.

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