Page 30 of Bewitched By the Phantom
“Yes,” I hiss. “Yes, to all of it.”
“No,” he snarls. “I’ll record your cries myself. They’re mine!”
He slams his lips against mine again, his hand going to the fastening of his pants and freeing his cock. I reach for him, curling my hand around the vaguely rough texture of him. I go to pull away, to look down, but he stops me, forcing the kiss longer. He jerks me to the edge of the table, dust covering my body, as he pins me beneath him. It’s exactly where I want to be, my legs spread around him. I’m desperate for him to fill me, to claim me, and tomorrow, we can go back to being rivals. Right now, I just need him.
“It’s been so long since I’ve slipped inside this wet cunt,” he groans, just before he slides inside with a heavy groan.
That’s where all the nice Erik dies.
The moment he’s inside me, stretching me wide while I moan out his name is the same moment he loses all sense of humanity. The snarls and growls that come from his lips as he begins to fuck me hard would scare a normal person. Not me though. Not when he’s making me feel like this.
I scream his name, desperate for the way he slams inside me, claiming me so thoroughly, I don’t think sex will ever be the same. His lips are as brutal as his hips are, wringing every bit of pleasure from me, as he fucks me in a dusty, forgotten room. He inhales my sound, like he’s literally feeding on it, and when I open my eyes to look at his face, that same glow emanates from his throat as he thrusts in and out of me.
“Sing for me, angel,” he growls, his words garbled and monstrous.
With each cry from my lips, the glow brightens. Still, I clutch at his shoulders, unafraid.
“Tell me,” he snarls. “Tell me that you’ve waited for me.”
“I’ve waited for you,” I cry out.
He jerks out of me and flips me, pressing me into the dust where I know I’m about to leave a really raunchy print behind. “Tell me how long,” he snarls as he slams back inside me, bottoming out before repeating the action. The new position has him hitting a different part of me, one that has my eyes rolling back in my head.
“Long,” I grind out. It’s the best I’ve got right now.
His hand wraps around my throat and drags me up, forcing my back to bow until his lips are at my ear. “Eighteen ninety-four,” he snarls. “I’ve waited for you since then.”
I don’t get a chance to be confused. He fucks me like a mad man and I shatter, exploding around him as he claims meso brutally, I realize he’d been honest about the monster he becomes. He glows behind me as I scream, his own savage snarl mixing with my voice and harmonizing with mine until his cock starts to jump inside me, his own release dragging another from me before I’ve even finished the first one.
I’m panting hard, my pussy throbbing with pleasure, as he pulls out of me and jerks his pants up. He immediately reaches for me, picking me up like I weight nothing, cradling me against his chest.
“My angel of music,” he breathes against my hair. “I’ll give you the world at your feet.”
I pat his chest. “That’s nice,” I muse, exhausted, content. “I’ll settle for a repeat of that tomorrow after rehearsal.”
He chuckles. “Aren’t we supposed to be rivals?”
“I’ll make sure to cuss you out before we fuck,” I tease.
When I look up at him, the shadows seem to cling a little too strangely to his shoulders, but I don’t even care.
Bitches will put up with a lot of weirdness for dick like that.
It’s me.
I’m bitches.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
Chapter
Seventeen
Iwake up tangled in Erik’s velvet bedsheets, the feeling of the material against my skin luxurious and strange. I don’t think I’ve ever slept on velvet, let alone a bed as opulent as this one. And to think, he set this all up just so it could feel like this for the competition? The man definitely holds true to his persona.
His mystery is part of his draw, and even now, he still wears the mask on his face. When I wake up, I don’t move for a few minutes, trying to remind myself where I am and what I’d done. I probably shouldn’t have had sex with Erik. The more I lie here and think about it, the more it feels like a mistake. We’re in a competition. In the end, one of us is going to walk away with a contract and potential fame. The other will be left behind, and I’m pretty sure relationships like that won’t last. Not when we both have dreams to follow. Which means, everything is up in the air, and this is a bad idea.
I peek open my eyes a little further and take in the sleeping form of Erik beside me. He’s naked, the sheets pulled up over his waist to hide his bottom half. A shame really. I haven’t gotten a great look at him. We’ve been a little busy. Now could be an opportune time if?—
