Page 32 of Soul to Possess

“Okay, little girl. I hear you,” he said, his breath hot on my cheek. And then, without warning, his lips were on mine, warm and demanding. Excitement shot through me, and I arched my back, pushing my wet center against his hips. My body was begging for what I could not ask for, what I could not admit I wanted.

The heat of his kiss, the passionate way he stroked the flames inside of me to life with his probing tongue, was beyond anything I had ever imagined. This was the fireworks I had been expecting with my first kiss, the first time I had sex, when I had expected the angels to sing. But this was so much more than that. This was raw, primal, and utterly consuming.

There were fucking angels singing somewhere now, their hymns a distant echo compared to the symphony of sensation that was taking place in my room. The man above me was a vision of sin, his dark hair falling in disheveled strands.. His kisses were hard, demanding, and utterly consuming. He wasn't asking for permission; he was taking what he wanted, what he needed. He had asked, but my answer didn't matter to him. He took and took, kissing me like I was his lifeline, like he was a drowning man and I was his only source of air.

My heart pounded in my chest, panic clawing at me as he stole my breath away with the force of his passion. He thrustagainst me, the length of him encased in his jeans pressing against my most sensitive spot. The zipper teased me, providing a delicious friction that sent sparks of pleasure coursing through my veins. Moans escaped my throat despite my best efforts to hold them back. His touch was intoxicating, overwhelming, and I was drowning in it.

He smiled against my mouth, his lips a breath away from mine. "Someone lied to me. I don’t like being lied to, little Bluebell," he murmured, his husky voice sending a spasm of desire through my core. I arched my bare pussy up against his hard length, seeking the pressure, the friction that I craved.

"Ah, ah, no," he said, pulling away from me. With a quick, fluid movement, he tore my shirt off, the fabric ripping as easily as tissue paper. He tossed it to the floor, his eyes roaming over my exposed body. My breasts heaved with each ragged breath, my nipples hard and begging for his attention. Traitorous bastards, betraying me just like the rest of my body.

He immediately bent his head, his hot mouth latching onto one of my nipples, his tongue lapping and teasing. I gasped, pulling against my restraints, the leather digging into my wrists as I arched into him, desperate for more. "Please," I whispered, the word a plea, a begging for release from the agonizing ache that consumed me.

Atticus, ever the tormentor, ignored my plea and moved his mouth to my other breast, his teeth nibbling and biting, his tongue tracing the sensitive peak. He engulfed my nipple in the hot cavern of his mouth, sucking and licking, driving me to the point of no return. A familiar pulsing began between my legs, my body coiling tight as a spring, ready to snap.

I shook my head, the restraints taut against my wrists, my body aching for release. "Atticus, please," I begged, my voice a desperate whimper. But he continued his torment, his mouthand hands working in tandem to drive me wild, to push me over the edge.

“No, no, no, stop. Oh god, please. Stop. God. Fuck. I’m coming,” I screamed as a wave of pure ecstasy ripped through my body, leaving me trembling and convulsing beneath him. My legs twitched and spasmed, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Every nerve ending was on fire, my body pulsing with a need that refused to be denied.

Atticus moved his mouth away from my breast and leaned over me, his breath hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "For someone who doesn’t want to be touched, you sure cum easily. You want to know what I think?" he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous growl that sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.

I shook my head, but he ignored me, his lips curling into a smirk. "Too bad, my little Bluebell, I’m going to tell you anyway. I think it makes you hot to tell me no. To push me away, to reject me. It makes that little pussy feel hot and needy. I think deep inside you want me to force you, take you against your will. Some part of you enjoys having no control, not knowing what I’ll do next. The danger of being close to me does something to you that you don’t know how to respond to. I think, my beautiful Gennie, I think mother nature made you just for me. My own art, my own special treasure to fuck, to force, to control. Yep, that’s what I think. So, go ahead, precious girl. Go ahead and scream, go ahead and buck, go ahead and try to get away. Deny it. Say no, push against me. Refuse to let me touch you. I will restrain you, and I will fuck you anyway."

A moan escaped my lips as his words washed over me, my body shaking with a mix of fear and anticipation. He knew me, knew my body better than I did. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Mmmm, there’s my good girl. You are mine. I will do with you what I choose. I will stop, immediately and never touch you again, if you say the words ‘Marvin.’ That is your safe word, my sweet. I think you can't admit you need me as badly as I need you, and that is okay. I will take you; I will force you against your will. If you say ‘Marvin,’ while I am fucking you, I will stop, so be prepared. I will not make you cum, I will not put my throbbing dick in your pretty, tight pussy, and I will not kiss those luscious lips of yours. Push against me, scream, say no all you want, little girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got both of us,” he murmured, his breaths ragged and hot against my skin as he pulled away from my ear.

I shook all over, the safe word 'Marvin' on the tip of my tongue, the hidden meaning not lost on me, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted him to push me, to make me submit. I wanted him to take what he wanted, to own me. But not if I had to consent. Not if I had to verbally agree to this twisted dance we were engaged in. Why was I so fucked up that being forced into submission turned me on more than anything else ever had? It was a question that tore at me, even as my body betrayed me, arching into his touch, craving more.

I pulled against my restraints, screaming, "No!!!!" as he roughly toyed with my clit, his fingers expertly finding that sensitive nub and applying just the right amount of pressure. I writhed, trying to twist away, but his touch was unrelenting, firm, and sure. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, and I could feel another orgasm building, despite my struggles.

"There’s my girl, such a pretty, little Bluebell," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent shivers down my spine. "The way you scream ‘no’ makes my dick so goddamn hard, Gennie. Such a beautiful specimen of a woman, gifted to me on my porch."

His words sent a shudder through me, and I could feel my orgasm crashing over me, wave after wave of pleasureleaving me breathless and shaking. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a rapturous kiss, his tongue invading my mouth, claiming me as his own. I fell back against the bed, limp and spent, my body convulsing around nothing, aching for him to fill me.

Atticus stood, his movements fluid and confident as he unzipped his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. I crossed my legs, a futile attempt to regain some semblance of control, and he grinned, amused by my defiance. "That’s okay, I know how to open them again. Don’t worry," he said, his voice a low, mocking purr.

He pushed his pants to the ground, and I felt all the breath leave my body in a shuddery whoosh as his cock came into view. It was bigger than any I had ever seen, thick and hard, standing proud against his skin. The purple tip was coated with pre-cum, a clear drop beading at the top, glistening in the morning light. I felt my mouth go dry, my heart pounding in my chest as I took in the sight of him, my body aching with need.

"Don’t forget to take a breath in, Gennie girl," he reminded me, his voice a low, dangerous growl as he climbed back onto the bed, shoving my legs roughly apart. The action sent another spasm of pleasure between my legs, moisture leaking onto the mattress below me. I took in a long, shaky breath as his fingers found my neck, his touch firm and possessive.

"All you gotta say to stop it is, Marvin," he reminded me, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through me. I was his, completely and utterly at his mercy, and I couldn't wait to see what he would do next.

That was all he said as he applied pressure, sliding into place, and in one hard, relentless thrust, he buried himself deep inside me. The air left my lungs in a rush, and all I could feel was the sensation of his hand around my throat, cutting off myairway, holding me in place as he invaded my most intimate space. The room spun, and I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring at the edges. I should have been terrified, should have been screaming for him to stop, but instead, I ached with a need that consumed me.

I wanted more. I burned for him, my body betraying me as it responded to his dominant touch. Each thrust of his hard cock sent me spiraling into a frenzy, sensations overwhelming my body, leaving me breathless and desperate for air. He slammed his hand over my mouth, clutching my nose between his fingers. Pushing his arm against my neck. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the pleasure, but the lack of oxygen made the room spin faster, everything going black around the edges.

I tried to open my lips, to gasp for air, but nothing came out. Panic clawed at my chest, my lungs burning for oxygen, but the sensation of his cock filling me, stretching me, was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I could feel every vein, every ridge of him as he moved in and out of me, the pleasure building with each thrust. My body convulsed around him, milking him, urging him deeper.

Every throb of his cock sent me higher, the world fading to black as I lost control, my orgasm ripping through me like a force of nature. The pressure on my neck released, and I took a ragged, desperate breath, my lungs burning as they filled with air. I heard him moaning, his thrusts becoming erratic and slow, his body tensing as he reached his own climax. Heat flooded my insides, his release triggering another wave of pleasure that left me shaking and spent.

I crashed into nothingness, my body limp and sated, my mind a blur of pleasure and pain, of domination and submission. I was his in that moment, completely and utterly.

Chapter Sixteen

I loosened the belt from around Gennie’s wrists, slow and deliberate, watching as the red impressions in her skin came into focus. Angry, tender lines marked where she'd struggled—like her body had fought what her mind hadn’t quite dared to reject. She was unconscious now, her breaths soft and even. Vulnerable. Exposed. Perfect.

The welts would fade, but the image of her pulling against those restraints—fighting me and needing me in the same breath—would stay seared in my mind forever. I traced the inside of her wrist with my thumb, careful, reverent. She’d earned something gentler now.

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