Page 27 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

I’m used to it—being the object of someone’s desires. Used and abused. This time, though, I’m instigating. This time, I chose my partner, and it’s not for anything more than the fact that Iwanthim.

When I expect Luc to pick me back up and maybe drag me to the bedroom, he surprises me by reaching out and pushing my legs apart. “Will you trust me, pretty girl?”

I close my eyes at those words. Shit, when he talks to me like that, I’ll do anything he wants me to do. I nod quietly and he pushes my legs up until my feet touch the edges of the counter. “Hold yourself here,” he commands. “Just like this, keep that pussy open for me.”

Blinking, I reach out and grab onto my legs right behind my knees. I anchor my feet to the counter and wince as my stomach contracts with discomfort and my lower back aches. Still, it’s not enough to force me to stop this. I’ve already gone down the path of no return and I’m not turning back.

Luc feathers his fingers over my pussy lips, smoothing his thumb over my clit in light brushes that make me want to scream at him. My mind is reeling, old memories flash through my head, but I take deep breaths and I latch onto the here and now. It takes concentration—hell, it takes considerable force of will, but I have it. I am not there. I’mhere. I’m not with them. I’m withLuc.

And he’s fucking torturing me.

“So wet for me…” His words are soft, almost reverent as he pushes a single digit into my channel. I tighten around him, a moan escaping my lips, but it’s not enough. He pulls out and adds another. “You’re so clingy, pretty girl,” he says. “Does this pussy want something more?”

“You know it does,” I reply through clenched teeth.

Luc merely chuckles and the sound of it vibrates along my sensitive nerve endings. He’s killing me and I think he’s enjoying it. “The things I want to do to you, Micki,” Luc says, “are all the things that will override everything you’ve experienced since you were taken from me.” I gasp and moan as he fucks into my cunt with his fingers, pushing his thumb over my clit knowingly. So few men actually know or care to look for it, but he doesn’t just know how to locate the damn thing. He knows how to play it like an instrument.

“I want to make you scream until you have no more voice. I want to drive out all of those demons I see in your eyes that weren’t there before. I want to erase the darkness in you and fill it with only me. Can you handle that, pretty girl? Can you take me the way I want to take you?”

“Yes,” I sob as I get closer to the edge of the precipice he’s pushing me towards. My limbs start shaking. My heart seizes. Beads of sweat pop up along my spine. My ass clenches. Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t remember it ever being like this with him. I remember us being two curious teenagers. The petting, the groping, those innocent touches. This is anything but innocent. This is vile and devious and everything I didn’t know I wanted.

I can feel Luc’s eyes on me—dark and glittering and consumed by my every movement. I like that. I like that he’s so fucking focused on me that he can’t seem to see anything else. It’s the same exact way I feel about him. I start rocking my hips in time with his movements, seeking my release. It’s there just beyond the crest.

As I part my lips for another cry, though, his hands suddenly stop and he disappears from my view. I’m shocked and confused, until I realize that he’s bent down, and the feel of his thrusting fingers is suddenly replaced by warm and wet lips and tongue.

That strangled cry turns into a scream. Luc’s golden head dips between my thighs as he swipes over my clit and then dives down, digging into my pussy, pushing inside until I clench around his wiggling tongue.

“Oh, God, Fuck…” I mutter.

“God’s not here, pretty girl,” he groans against my pussy lips. “Because if He was, He’d be the one worshiping you and not me. Call my name. Not His.”

Another garbled scream releases from me as he delves forward once more. His fingers rejoin his lips and tongue and the room spins and blurs as he reaches inside of me and curls his digits in just the right way—pressing against a spot somewhere that feels like it was meant just for him to find.

“Luc!” A rush of wetness floods my lower body and I gasp for breath.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Good fucking girl. That’s right. Give me all of it. Give me all of your soaking wet juices.” Sweat cools against my skin as he latches onto my body, his lips sealing over my opening as he gulps down the rush of my orgasm into his mouth.

It’s so fucking filthy and hot and unexpected that I’m left a trembling mess when he finally releases me and stands back up. My hands sag away from my legs and he catches me a split second before I completely fall off the counter. As I look up at him, my gaze locks onto the shine to his mouth, the liquid dripping from his chin.

The sight, however, is nothing compared to the hungry look in his eyes. He lifts me into his arms and leans down so that his lips are pressed to my ear. “I hope you’re not too tired, Micki,” he says. “Because this is far from over.”

13

LUC

Wetness slidesdown the front of my pants from where her pussy presses against my cock. It’s dripping onto the floor and I glance down once before meeting her gaze with a smirk. “You’re messing up my floors, pretty girl,” I tell her.

Micki sucks in a breath and then weaves her arms around my neck, lifting herself against my chest. “I’d like to mess up your sheets too, while I’m at it,” she whispers back.

Fuck. I start towards the bedroom and she eagerly nuzzles against me.

It feels like we are split between two separate worlds—one in which nothing has changed and another where we’re both viscerally aware that everything has; we’re just ignoring it. Her lips find the side of my throat and she presses kisses into my skin, right over the pounding point of my pulse. My legs eat up the distance until I’m slamming through the bedroom door of the master suite, turning and kicking the damn thing closed before I push her against the wood.

The air rushes out of her lungs as her head thumps back, hitting me in the face. I stare down at her—those big, round, brown eyes of hers looking up at me. They’ve gotten darker as she’s grown. I remember when they resembled something akin to caramel, but now they’re dark and haunting—and when I look into them, I see myself reflected in the mirror of her gaze. She’s fully focused on me.

“I’m not going to let you go tonight,” I warn her.

“You don’t have to,” she says, quietly.

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