Page 93 of This Blood That Breaks Us
“We both know you’re a glutton for punishment. You like being miserable.” She moved Her hand to my thigh, and I shivered.
“Do you see now? This is the person you are. This is what you want. You’ve always known you’re different from your brother. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting this.”
“I hate you.”
“You’re not looking at me like a man who hates me.”
I wanted to shut Her up and stop Her beautiful mouth from talking. There were so many other useful things She could do with that mouth besides threaten me.
“You’re the worst thing to happen to me. You’re an illusion. You’re not real.”
“I’m very real. I know you remember. When you asked me to bite you . . . and when I did, you asked me not to stop. Or do you not tell them that part of the story?”
I couldn’t grab onto the anger. Before I even thought about it, my body moved to slam my lips to Hers.
It was everything. I didn’t care how hard I grabbed Her. Her tongue on mine was the end of all my wandering. I hated Her. Ihated that She orchestrated my life, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.
She bit my lip and pulled me into Her. I fell on top of Her and felt every curve. I wanted it all to be mine. My blood filled my mouth, and I licked my bottom lip. I couldn’t think.
“Bitch,” I said.
Her eyes darkened, and Her presence overtook me. She leaned in closer, and I swallowed. She’d had the upper hand the whole time, and She knew it.
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“Don’t you remember the last time you called me that?”
“Fuck off.”
I needed to devour Her. I took Her bottom lip between my teeth and bit down. The tiniest bit of Her blood sent me into a frenzy. I held Her down and bit into Her neck. My fingers knotted Her hair while fresh blood flowed into me.
“Tell me what you want.” Her breath was hot in my ear.
“Bite me.”
She pulled away, leaving me without hope of any satisfaction other than Her blood pumping through my veins. My resolve was already gone. It was gone before I even recognized its exit, because I wanted Her. Not in a way that was good or pure in any reality. There was nothing soft or kind about it. It was dark. A deep, deadly need that felt like it might kill me if I didn’t have Her.
“Tell me again,” She said.
“I hate you.” I moved my hands to Her waist, pulling Her on top of me.
“The other thing,” She whispered in my ear.
“Bitch.”
Then Her lips were on mine, and I was gone. I never wanted to come back to a place of sanity if She was the one touchingme. It was greater than anything I’d felt before. I moaned as She grinded into my lap.
The top of Her nightgown was easy to pull back to expose Her chest, and I kissed every glorious inch. Kissing first and then sucking at the skin of Her perfect breasts. The proximity of Her heartbeat only set me on edge with the image of Her blood on my lips. Before I could bite Her, She pushed me into the sheets and peeled off my shirt.
My senses were heightened. There was no inner monologue blocking me from Her. It was only the feeling of Her on top of me.
The things I wanted to do to Her.
Her lips brushed the sensitive skin on my chest.
“Fuck. Don’t stop.”
