Page 81 of Ink Deep Devotion

I stroke my already throbbing cock, needing to feel more pain. Thick veins bulge out as wetness beads at my tip. I guide myself to her entrance, spreading her from behind, her wetness drips down her thighs, coating me with her sweetness.

Just the touch of her against my cock, and that’s all it takes.

Time ceases, and thoughts halt.

I thrust inside of her, gluing our bodies together so tightly no one else’s memories would fit. I’ll fill every inch of her with me.

Me!

My body, my words, my promises, and lack thereof.

Loathing and devotion, dedication and lament.

A massive ache starts to throb deep within my core, spreading throughout my muscles until it wraps around my mind. The agony of it makes me want to cry, but I have long forgotten how to do that.

I pull out, hating the feeling of the cold air wrapping around my hardness and not her warm, tight body kissing it.

I shoved myself back in. Her body recoils, squeezing me. Grabbing a hold of me as it begs for me never to let her go.

Her nails scratch the wall peeling into the paint.I grin. I’ll take a picture of this wall so I can look at it whenever I need a fix.

“Yes, Dash, please harder. Deeper.” Her exhales are wild and untamed.

“I’ll break you,” I mutter as I mirror her hands, trapping mine over them against the wall. She only juts her ass out further, taunting me.

“You’ll fix me. Yes, oh god, Dash. It’s always been you, always real with you. I never had to fake it. You took everything I hated and made me love it, made me love myself again. I love you, Dash, I love you!” She shouts so loud I place my hand over her mouth so no one else can hear.

Her body starts to spasm around my cock.“This is all I can give you. Take it!” I growl as my body jolts, and I come buried deep inside of her. Her screams are trapped in the palm of my hand, forever mine.

Only mine.

She collapses into me, panting so deeply I’m worried she might pass out.

Then, time starts to tick again.

Tick.

You fucked up.

Tock.

It’s okay. We can fuck away our indignation as long as no one else knows. She made a deal with me. Agreed to this.

This is all I can give her. Stolen moments of raw passion are better than cold nights of suffering.

I wish I could pick her up, cradle her in my arms, carry her to my bed, and lick her clean, only to make her filthy again.

Instead, I need to show her the details of our bargain.

I step back and tuck myself back inside my pants. She turns dizzyingly to face me, her lips pulling up in a dazed happiness.“Stay with me. I’ll skip class. Let’s go back to my dorm, " she suggests.

“The anti-hero knows when to walk away in order to save people, Mila.” I begin,“He doesn't always have to kill because that's easy; a hero would do what's easy. The anti-hero picks the hard road to walk down, and if you want me, then you'll have to endure walking this road beside me." I step back, eyes glancing at the door and not her face, which falls and fills with the reality of our heartbreak.

My voice cracks as I feel the need to say one last thing. "Sometimes the villain is the one who makes the kill, Mila. I can't allow that to happen. One day, you will understand. I can’t lose you.”

My little fox thinks she’s strong enough to endure this. I thought this would finally make her stop fighting for us, but the look of determination in her eyes says otherwise; it might justbe the knife that plunges too deep into her heart. Eventually, she will stumble on this path we have both chosen to walk. When she does fall, I won't be able to help her; I can’t.

Turning, I walk away without looking back.

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