Page 28 of And Twice as Twisted
I forced her backwards, her heels clattering as she scrambled to shy away from my touch. Her back slammed into the wall, and I braced my arms on each side of her head, refusing to touch her. The quietude mixed with the metallic scent of blood before stretching between us. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly and I seethed at her impetuousness. The spoiled mafia princess, once again clawing her way under my skin.
“Over.” My disdain dripped freely with the singular word.
“Yes.” Her audacity shone like a beacon in her eyes, and I planned to show her just how wrong she was.
We’d never be over. Not even when Mario gave me an ultimatum and I left the city. She was the only woman capable of getting me to this point. So completely unhinged. From the first taste of her delicious nectar, her virgin blood coating my cock, I knew she was inescapable. She’d forever be interred in my bones, smoldering under my skin.
I breathed heavily, my body inches from hers as we stared defiantly at one another. The air was filled with the static of death. My dick was hard and my mind periled with errant thoughts of all the debauchery I wanted to enact on her body.
My resolve crumbled and I had to have her.
My mouth crashed to hers, my hands gripping her face to pin her to me. She tried to fight at first, but it was futile. She bit me, earning herself a growl that only spurred me on. She scratched at my limbs, my back, forcing my larger frame against hers, pinning her where I wanted her. My balls ached as she succumbed to the same carnal instincts that plagued me.
I kissed the seam of her lips, biting along her jawline, enjoying how her body shook. I dipped my thumb into the small streak of blood across her cheek and smeared it. A strange but perfect combination against her tanned surface.
She shoved me backwards, her chest heaved and she raised her hand with a clear need—so I let it happen. The slap echoed, and the pain impulses flared to life as my lip split open. The taste of blood erupted in my mouth, setting free the animal barely contained within.
“Fuck. Me,” she whispered the command before jumping into my arms and wrapping her strong legs around me.
Our lips connected with snarls and pants of anguished need. We were toxic, the promise of ruin to each other, but both equally unable to resist. The moth knew the flame would burn, but the beauty and trance of the flames made the slow death worth it.
Her body molded to me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. “I fucking hate you,” she admitted between kisses, ripping open my shirt and rubbing her heat against me.
“I know,” I ground out.
“Shut up and fuck me,” she demanded as I dropped to my knees and laid her on the blood-soaked floor.
The buttons on my shirt were torn, more of the crimson liquid dripping down my chest, and she stared hungrily as I pulled what was left of hers over her head and drooled at the toned, bloodied sight before me. She was a work of art. Chaotic and breathtakingly beautiful. A perfect contrast of dark meeting light.
“These might as well be painted on you.” Her leather pants were glued to her lithe legs. “Fuck. This.” I pushed my thumbs into the seams, the material splitting when I tugged. Sans panties, Sienna was sprawled out beneath me, bloody and soaked from her arousal.
And I goddamn hated her as the river’s edge flashed behind my eyes. Her current predicament reminding me of the way she lay motionless in that warehouse, the persistent ache in my chest unsettling.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked breathlessly. Her eyes were black, dead holes but her core was dripping for me.
“This… This changes nothing.”
She flinched like I’d struck her, staring at me with pure loathing behind perfectly fanned lashes. Even when her world was crumbling around her, she shielded herself with hatred to survive.
This was merely sex. My words reminded her as much, adding yet another offense to my list of travesties. The devil was my brother, I was the reaper, and Sienna was my absolute demise.
I wanted her to suffer, to hate me. I needed her hate, yearned for it. Because when I left, left her and the city, then she’d survive without me. She’d hold on to that hate and live another day.
“Pretty little Sienna. Always used to getting what she wants.”
Her eyes were aflame, burning with anger.
“Today, you’ll get it.” I dropped to my elbows, attacking her core with the savage strokes of my tongue, enjoying the garbled pleas that hung in the air. She was soaked, her thighs pinning my head and shaking as I found the bundle of nerves—demanding atrophy. She screamed my name and I smiled as I gave her a few lasting strokes. “My favorite flavor.” I wiped the back of my hand across my face. “You want this?” My erection settled against her entrance to further punctuate my statement.
“You know I do.” Her words were flat, monotone, but her body gave away her secrets. I pushed inside, the place that was made for me. Where I found sanctuary. “Harder.”
I pulled back and slammed into her. She tugged my body tight to hers, latching her teeth on to my shoulder to quiet her moans. All the gunfire and yet she was concerned over her screams. Harder and harder, I gave her what we both needed.
“Shit,” she whimpered. “Apollo.” Her eyes opened, and I stared into a dangerous current of icy-blue water.
“Come for me, Sienna. Do it.” I moved my hips back and forth while my sweat mingled with the dried blood before splattering onto her skin. My perfect tainted canvas.
Her body coiled and her muscles tightened as she came, forcing my own release to follow. She quivered beneath me as we lay in silence. Neither sure what to say. Neither wanting to break the spell. She rolled onto her side, unable to face our sad reality, before pushing to her feet. I helped tug her up.
