“Oh, so needy. Your poor cunt having nothing to fill it,” he teases, edging me on. “You want me inside of you, darling? Are you aching for me to stuff you full?”
I nod, tears streaming down my cheeks from exasperation. I would do anything for release, to come, for him to be inside of me. Anything to curb this hunger.
The coldness of his fingers curls against my hip. He’s gripping me so hard I’m certain when I look at my body in the mirror tomorrow morning, his hold will be immortalized in the form of bruises.
“Beg for it.”
Another torturous thrust, his mouth hovering just above my own. I can feel every word from his lips against my own. “You want me that badly, this pathetically. Then fucking beg me for it.”
“Please, Thatcher. Please, I’ll be such a good slut for you, please,” I cry, my nails finding a home in the tops of his shoulders, marking him. “Angel.”
The nickname is a sigh, a sign of my will breaking in half.
I’m delirious, trapped in a wormhole of agonizing ecstasy, but I still see the way his gaze softens. How his eyes seem to brighten, and the edges of his lips tilt up just enough that I notice through the haze of tears.
Lifting his weight from me, creating enough distance for him to slip his fingers between my thighs, he tenderly strokes me through my panties, pressing his thumb into my clit just before he jerks the material to the side.
The cold air makes my nails sink further into his skin, my hips jumping from the bed, seeking his touch. I arch into his hand, biting down on the inside of my lip to keep from screaming when the heel of his palm rubs against my clit.
“God,” he curses. “You’re drenched, fucking soaked. It would be so easy for me to slide my cock into your tight little hole, pet. Have you let anyone touch this pathetic pussy?”
I shake my head in distress. “No. No. Never.”
“That’s right, because it’s mine, isn’t it? I ruined you for anyone else, didn’t I? I warned you.” He uses one finger to caress through my slippery folds, taunting me with pleasure that’s within reach, dangling it in front of me just to see how hard I’ll work for it. “I own you, Lyra Abbott. Your body, your soul, your heart. Even if I can’t have it, Iownyou.”
He’s owned me far before he took a claim on my body. Far before we knew each other. Far before this life or any life before. When the stars were dust and the universe a black, endless night.
There is no real beginning for us, and there will never truly be an end. Not when the threads of fate have woven us in a never-ending loop. A love that travels lifetimes.
We are a divine connection that can never be touched. Not even by the hands of death.
“Yes!” I say louder than I’d anticipated.
When he finally takes mercy on me, I clench around him. I feel his middle finger sinking into my tight hole, my walls sucking him in like a vise. His lazy pumps, mixed with the pressure on my sensitive bud, are enough to get me there.
The buildup starts in my stomach. I tighten up, pushing my hips against his hand to meet him halfway, chasing my orgasm with a feral desire that completely takes over.
“Hey, Lyra.” A knock at my door makes me freeze. “Do you have an extra towel? I can’t sleep, so I’m gonna shower.” Briar’s voice rings through the room.
My eyes widen, not only from the shock but because Thatcher slides another finger inside of me with no care for my friend outside. He continues to drive in and out of me, petting that spot deep inside that has me close to seeing stars.
He drops his head to my ear, his hot breath on my neck. His voice is low and secretive, but I hear every word. “Better be quiet, pet. Don’t let your friend know how good the hands of a killer feel inside your pussy.”
I grab at his wrist, a feeble attempt to stop him, but it just spurs him on. He speeds up, forcing my pussy to make obscene noises from how wet I am, using my lewd juices to shove in and out so easily.
His bloodstained lips pepper kisses along my chest and neck, painting me in his favorite color. My thighs lock, my knees go weak, and I know there is no stopping the inevitable crash.
“Answer her.” He curls his fingers inside of me, pushing harder on my clit with his palm. “Do this for me, and I’ll let you come.”
My fear of getting caught is nothing compared to my desire for him.
I want to be good for him. Even when he was just teaching me, I still wanted to please him because his praise makes me feel like I’m walking on clouds.
“Beneath the—” My toes curl as the coil in my stomach starts to snap in half. “—bathroom sink!”
I meet every thrust of his hand with a snap of my hips, securing an arm around his shoulders and arching off the bed as I push myself against him with reckless abandon.
She calls back in thanks, but I barely hear her. My ears are thrumming, blinding white heat soaring through my veins. It dawns on me that I don’t care if she knows or she sees. All that matters is him, is this.