Page 115 of The Beautiful Dead

He fuckinglovedit.

My lips crashed into his throat, dragging across his pulse point. Tasting. Marking. Branding. My teeth sank in, breaking skin, and he arched into me, gasping.

“You cry so beautifully,baby,” I murmured against his skin, tongue flicking over the wound. The metallic tang of his blood burst across my tastebuds. Perfect. Before I kissed away thetears that pricked the corners of his eyes, leaving a fresh bloody trail across his pale skin.

His fingers clawed at my back, nails biting, digging. Pulling me closer like he couldn’t get deep enough.

Neither could I.

I ripped at his clothes as I kicked my jeans off, tearing the fabric from his body until every inch of him was bared to me. I needed more, needed all of him. His mind. His darkness. The blood and marrow of his bones.

His legs wrapped around my waist, locking me in, grinding up, dragging me deeper into his heat.

“You need me, don’t you?” I whispered, biting at his jaw, dragging my tongue over the sweat-slick curve of his throat. Scraping my teeth over his Adam’s apple, feeling his larynx vibrate beneath my lips.

He didn’t answer, but his body did. Writhing. Desperate. Willing. The soft puff of air that passed his lips as they searched for mine.

His cock, slick and hard, slid against mine, sending a violent, shuddering wave of pleasure down my spine. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to slow down before I shattered too soon.

But he wouldn’t let me. Wave after wave of electricity danced across my skin, sparking everywhere we touched. Nerves came alive under my skin. Every thrust of his hips, every long grind of his slick length against mine only ratcheted the pleasure suffused in my veins higher.

“Dom…” he whimpered when my crown caught on his.

He was just as starved, just as desperate, grinding up, pushing, daring me to break.

“Say it,” I ordered, my grip on his throat tightening just enough to make his breath catch.

His lips curled in a wicked, ruined smile. “Make me.”

A snarl ripped from my chest. I devoured him. My lips slammed down on his, and I forced my tongue into his mouth, tasting every inch before I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth. Pulling a fresh bead of blood from the freshly scabbed over split.

Teeth clashed. Nails raked down my back, peeling layer after layer of skin away. The delicious burn of his brand on my flesh made my balls draw up tight to the base of my dick.

Skin dragged against skin, slick with sweat, blood, need. It was raw. Consuming. Violent.

I forced his thighs wider, pinning him beneath me, owning every inch of him. He arched his spine, his head thrown back, body taut with pleasure and pain, the line between them blurring.

My bloodied hand wrapped around my thick length as my gaze dragged over every inch of his body, following the trail of marks down to his glistening cock, a fresh bead of precum pooled against his abs.

“Fuck,” I groaned and notched the head of my cock against his unstretched hole.

I wanted him raw and brutally. I needed to force my way inside his body, feel it fight me before it sucked me in. I looked up, and my eyes clashed with his heavy-lidded ice-blues.

The unasked question between us as I increased the pressure against his entrance. That tight ring of muscle refusing to give. Bending forward I spit on my cock slicking it up as I worked my hand from root to tip.

Remi’s head thrashed. “Fuck me. Fuck me Domino. I need it. Need you.” A fresh wave of tears glittered down his cheeks.

With one hard snap of my hips, that tight ring of muscle was forced to give way as I drove myself inside him. The wet heat of his body clenched around me, and my mind fractured.

Nothing else existed.

Nothing else would ever matter.

I drove into him with an unhinged intensity, bruising, claiming, my hands leaving evidence of ownership in every mark, every scrape, every bite.

He gasped, wrecked, perfect,mine.

“You love this,” I murmured against his lips, forcing my cock deeper, making him feel it.

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