Page 20 of Game of Hell
I sit down, my legs stretch out in front of me and I place both arms over the side of the chair. I look at her frame curled upon the bed. How the silk sheets dip into her small curves and accentuate each hip—perfectly outlining her beautiful body.
I know deep down what I feel for her is more than just obsession, its more than anything I have ever felt for anyone. Her attitude is fiery, burning through all my emotions but how caring she is what drew me into her abyss. Even as the harsh words leave my mouth she still looks at me like I’m capable of saving—as if one day she will love me.
My cock hardens at the sight of her. Her eyes flutter and a loud sigh leaves her rosy lips. The sound is close to a sweet moan. Would she be dreaming of me again? I press my hands to the front of my pants, wiping away the sweat that now coats them.
Fuck, I really shouldn’t.
My fingers tap nervously on my jeans but the dark thoughts win and I find myself getting up and walking over to the edge of the bed. Her legs are up to her chest, curled in on themselves and just inches away from her chest.
Who the fuck sleeps like that?
If I move the blanket I know I won't be able to resist what’s underneath. My shirt on her would be a picture I’ll remember for the rest of my life. In the red lights my shadow looms over her, broadening and stretching in ways that would be perceived as scary.
Seeing how perfect she looks laying there, angers me. It stirs the darkness in me and heightens it to an uncontrollable rage. Why is it so easy for her to forget everything she’s done? I want to forget, I want to sleep at night peacefully without fucking nightmares chasing each breath I take. I tilt my head and drag the blanket down her still body. Goosebumps immediately litter her tan skin and a soft whimper leaves her lips.
The blanket falls to the floor—the bottom of her ass peeks out of my shirt. The skin is slightly bruised and red from myprevious assault. I lean down and roughly drag her legs down to sit in front of me. Her eyes flutter but never open. My cock pushes against my pants hard. The feeling of my balls growing should make me want to fuck her, but really I want a taste. She’s fucking addicting.
I open her legs and position myself between them. Her pussy glistens, ready for whatever I have to offer. I breathe in, letting the smell of her consume me. I can’t describe it but it's sweet, like a poisonous flower that smells nice but is toxic. Each time I consume it I end up sick, my thoughts become depraved and a bitter taste is left on my lips when it settles in because I shouldn’t crave her like I do. I don’t want to fall for her.
I pull her legs farther apart, opening her folds to me. I dig my nails into her thigh and trail my other hand up her shirt to her breast. I flick her pink nipple and grip the supple flesh in my palm. The feel of her soft skin beneath my rugged hand feels like heaven.
I slowly slide my tongue down her, stopping right at her puckered asshole. Every inch of her tastes divine. I push two fingers into her wet hole and she grips me tight, pulling me deeper. I can see every muscle tense up and the way her clit begins to swell—the area darkens in color, turning crimson.
I lap at her clit, sucking and biting the flesh. I look up—her eyes are squeezed together and her back arches off the bed in need. I roughly pinch her nipples, forcing her to feel exactly how I feel on the inside. I remove my fingers and swirl them around her clit. I replace the absent spot with my tongue, pushing it as deep as it'll go.
“Do you want me to break you, Little Devil?” I muse against her pussy. Her eyes snap open and a loud moan leaves her plump lips.
Her eyes search mine for a while before recognition fills her.
“What—what are you doing?” She tries to sit up but I press my hand into her stomach, crushing everything below my palm.
Her ginger hair sprawls out beneath her—strands sticking to her face. I can hear the fear in her voice, the hunger. To see her fight me is pointless but exhilarating all the same. My balls grow in size as I fight her grip on my arm.
She’s a strong girl—one very stubborn fucking whore.
“Let me taste you.” I rasp, my tongue messily flicking against her pussy. I push my fingers back into her tight hole and she whimpers, tears falling from her pale blue eyes.
Book made for [email protected]
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ember
“She feared the pain that blossomed in me until it became addicting.”
My nostrils flare as the anger in me builds, but the ache between my thighs wins as I throw my head back against the pillows. My moans become a silent plea for him to continue—I don’t want him to stop.
What was once a dream is now my reality. My heart races with each flick of his tongue, every caress of his fingers against my walls. I should feel ashamed, scared even but I don’t. After we leave here this will all be over. The only person who will know of my sins will be him.
I ride his face faster, his nails dig into my stomach and his touch is crushing but the pain and pleasure mix into a beautiful emotion of desire.
“Please, more.” I moan and grip his hair in one of my hands. The other is balled up in the sheets, trembling with need.
He groans as I grasp his hair tighter. My nails dig into his scalp and push him against my pussy. He bites my clit, hard. His grip on my stomach moves up to my breast, his hands bruising everywhere they go.
“I can give you so much more, Little Devil.” He snarls into my pussy, his eyes on me.
The vibrations send me over the edge and my orgasm ripples through me. My head spins with each collision of emotions, his merciless gaze adds to the tension and my body trembles with somuch pleasure I close my eyes. He pulls back after he licks me clean and a steady tingle settles in my lower stomach.
