Page 105 of Colton
He’s on me in an instant, his hands gripping my arms, his face inches from mine. “Don’t, Luella,” he growls.
I smile, sweet and sinister. “Or what, Colton? You’ll leave again? You’ll leave me?”
Something in him snaps. His mouth crashes onto mine, teeth clashing, tongues warring. It’s a kiss of violence, of desperation, and I meet it with equal desperation and passion. Our breaths are harsh, our bodies pressed so tightly together, I can feel his heart pounding against my chest.
“I almost killed a man tonight,” he mumbles against my lips, his voice raw.
“Who?” I gasp as a shiver runs down my spine, excitement and fear twisting together.
“That fucking bartender.”
My God, the way this man makes my pussy drool for him is beyond comprehension.
He wanted to kill the manI smiledat.
“Would you have done it? For me?” I ask breathlessly, hating how needy I sound.
He pulls back, his eyes searching mine. “Would you have liked that?”
I smile slowly. “Maybe.”
His grip on my arms tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. It hurts, but it’s a good pain, the kind that makes me feel alive.
“You’re fucking sick, Luella,” he whispers, but there’s no condemnation in his voice. Only understanding.
“So are you,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper. “That’s why we’re perfect together.”
His mouth finds mine again, hungry and brutal. Our bodies crash into the wall, pictures falling, glass shattering. His hands are under my shirt, on my skin, marking me with his touch. I bite his lip, tasting blood, and he growls, his fingers tightening in my hair.
“You can’t leave again,” I gasp as his teeth find my neck, biting down hard. “I won’t let you.”
He pulls back, his eyes locked onto mine. They’re wild, fierce, filled with a darkness that matches my own. “I won’t,” he promises, his voice hoarse. “Never again.”
Then he’s on me, his body pressing mine against the wall with a force that sends more pictures crashing to the floor, more glass shattering around us. His mouth claims mine again, hungry and brutal, teeth clashing, tongues warring. I can taste his desperation, his need, and it fuels my own.
His hands are under my shirt, rough and demanding, marking my skin with his touch. I bite his lip, drawing blood, and he growls, his fingers tightening in my hair. The pain is exquisite, a reminder that I’m alive, that he’s here, that we’re real.
“You think you can control me, don’t you, Luella?” Colton rasps, his hand sliding down my body, hooking into the delicate fabric of my fresh underwear. He drags it away, his breath hotand heavy on my skin. “Huh?” He shoves into me, a dark laugh echoing around the room. “You think you can control me?”
He fills me, stretches me, every thrust claiming me in a way that’s both brutal and exhilarating. His hands grip my hips with a force that will leave bruises, but I don’t care. I welcome it. Each powerful stroke sends pleasure and pain crashing through me, until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. His intensity consumes me, his darkness wrapping around us both like a cloak. With each movement, he touches something deep inside me, not just physically, but emotionally, stoking a fire that only he can ignite. I feel alive, electric, my body humming with a raw, primal energy that only he can draw out. He’s dangerous and intoxicating, and I never want this to end.
Does it matter that he almost ruined me?
No.
I should care more, but no one else does this to me.
Only him.
It’s a twisted, sick love that I can’t shake off. It’s like he’s poison in my veins, a darkness that has seeped into my soul. I’m addicted. I’m trapped in a whirlwind of fear and desire, where the line between love and hatred blurs.
Every fiber of my being screams that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t feel this way about the man who took so much from me. Yet, here I am, craving his touch, yearning for his gaze. It’s a sickness, a perverse obsession that has me bound to him.
The thought of him makes my heart race, a mix of terror and longing coursing through me. I’m in love with my monster, rapist, stalker, and captor. It’s a truth that shatters me, piece by piece. But even as I crumble, I know I can’t walk away. Because no one else makes me feel like this. Only him.
No one else understands the darkness inside me like he does. No one else accepts it, feeds it, nurtures it. It’s a twisted walk of destruction, and I’m striding right beside him. I should runaway or scream, but all I want is to be consumed by him, to be claimed, to be owned.
It’s wrong, it’s sick, it’s perverted. But it’s us.
