Page 49 of Malicent
“I don’t want to sleep with you!” Her words snap like a whip. She pushes against me, her thighs flexing against my waist as she struggles, her hands shoving at my chest in a futile attempt to knock me off.
Too easy.
I manage to seize both wrists with one hand, pinning them above her head. Her arms are stretched taut, halting her escape; her body writhes beneath me, cementing her helplessness.
I chuckle, low and dark, leaning in. “Oh, but little witch, you’re fighting too hard for something you claim not to want.”
I drink it in.
“Tell me,” I purr, my hand gliding lower, tracing the inside of her thigh. “If I slide my fingers between these pretty little thighs, will I find you dripping in need?”
Her body reacts before her words, her muscles tensing beneath my touch. My hand slowly slides up her inner thigh.
I continue, like a drunk eager for more.
Her pupils dilate, and she holds her breath, just for a second.
There it is.
Satisfaction curls deep in my chest as my fingers skim the thin fabric of her panties, feeling the wet heat beneath. A sharp inhale escapes her lips.
“Lace,” I smirk. “My favorite. Did you wear this for me?”
“Get the fuck off me.” She squirms viciously, trying to get free, but it is useless.
I slide one finger to the center of the lace, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm.
“Just as I thought,” I taunt. “You are weeping for me to stretch and fill you.”
I hook a finger into the fabric, pulling it down just enough to make her think—just for a second—that I might touch her.
Then I release it.
The fabric snaps back into place, earning a sweet little gasp to breach those full lips of hers she was attempting to keep sealed shut. Her body wants, even if her mind does not.
Before she can lash out and actually begin using her magic, I deliver a quick, teasing slap over her needy mound.
I grin down at her, savoring it.
She can fight. She can spit, curse, and claw all she likes, but cannot lie to me.
“Now go change, unless you plan to let the beasts fuck you. I hear witches are into that.”
I wink and remove my hand from her heart and release her arms.
The slap comes fast and hard, the sting spreading across my cheek before I fully register the impact.
A sharp little thing.
I rub my jaw, amusement curling in my chest even as I rise, finally giving her the space she craves.
“No more games. We need to go.” My tone slips into my calm, collected mask. The demon sneering up at me is only one of the many plaguing these lands.
Millicent’s breathing is ragged, her fingers tremble before clenching them into fists. “If you ever put your hands on me again, agreements be damned…I will incinerate you.”
I don’t chase after her; the truth of her words is settling. Some great beings remake the world; others burn it. A split second of dread runs up my spine, chased by an odd sense of knowing. An instinctual certainty—like how one knows their heart will beat without thought, or their next breath will come.
She will burn it all. She will be the end.
