Page 42 of Tortured Eyes
Seventeen
“Ihate you for this.” My arms tighten around her, smothering her head into my chest. She shakes in my hold, the last of her fight finally giving in.
“Makes two of us, Red.” Doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy fucking her again, though.
I tip her chin up to me and stare into those tortured eyes, wondering if she sees the same torment in my own. This is the life we’re in, though. Both of us agonising over something that is done and gone.
“Don’t,” she says weakly.
I hold her chin firmer, making sure she knows that if she wants out of what’s coming next, she’s gonna have to fight me. I want that, anyway. Her fighting me makes my dick like iron—hard and aggressive. Angry. She can hit me, slap me, rake her nails across this skin and try making me pay for what I’ve done to her. If nothing else, it’s a penance I’ll take for the death of Nate. A pain I’ll tolerate. Maybe I should give her a gun, make her job a whole lot easier so she can kill the real one at fault.
“I don’t want…” she whispers, as her body tries to wrangle its way out of my hold. “You.”
I chuckle mirthlessly, a part of me knowing how she feels. She shouldn’t want me, just like I shouldn’t want her. I get it. But she does, and fuck I want her, too. I gaze at her face, trying to work out why the hell I want her as much as I do.
“Yes, you do.”
The rigid length of my dick presses against her hip bone, grinding itself against her for purchase. Again, she tries to back off, pushing at my chest and her face angling away from me. It’s a fucking useless protest. Not enough venom in it to make me think twice about what’s coming.
“You want to suck it first, Red?”
Her eyes fly to mine, hostility reflected in them. My dick pushes in harder, reminding her what’s about to happen. She’s getting on her knees at some point. That’s an image I want in my mind, my dick so far down her throat she can’t breathe. She starts to struggle again, enough this time that I shove her away from me and let her get some distance. I’m not moving, though. And we both know this is happening.
My gaze stays fixed to her as she flicks glances around the room, maybe trying to work out if she can run for it. She could. She knows it as well as I do. She’s stock still, though, fists clenched as she processes. “Stop lying to yourself. Lose the underwear and get on with taking what you want. My patience is about out.”
A short, sharp laugh bursts out of her as she glares at me. It’s filled with hate and loathing. I like it. It winds up parts of me that only come out when I’m about to kill something, turning what was just suggestive and needful damn near insidious. Maybe killing her while I’m fucking her isn’t such a bad idea after all.
“What, Logan? Is this where we make love and pretend none of this has happened?”
Still, I wait for her to do as she’s told, some part of me wanting that. I want her on her knees because she chooses to be there, chooses to take what I’m about to deliver. Not off her head this time. Not out of it. I want those eyes looking at me while I fuck, want her begging for more of it.
“I fucking hate you!” she spits, more antagonism pouring out of her mouth.
“You've said that. Get on your fucking knees.”
Everything about her plants, hands up ready to defend herself. “No. Screw you, Logan Cane.”
And that’s all the provocation I need.
I’m over and on her so quick she barely manages the first hit she swings for. It glances off my cheek as my body turns to grab hold of her hair. Another one comes just as quick, all her fire suddenly back front and centre ready to try tearing me down a few notches. Good. Let her take it out on me, make me feel like the fucking heathen I am under the wealth. I want it. She wants it.
I keep taking more hits, all the time trying to push her to her knees. Shouts and bitching are volleyed around the room, her nails and fists trying to nudge her out of the hold I’ve got on her. Fine. I shove again, pushing her away from me.
“Fuck you,” she mutters, running at me again.
Everything about the way she fights and spits winds me up further. I end up using brute strength to get her over the couch, hands keeping her as still as I can manage, but the tension in her keeps flowing, hands trying to bat me away.
“Liar,” I pant out. She halts her fight, eyes focused on me. “Behave. Stop pretending you hate this.”
I slowly ease one hand down her body, rucking the bra out of the way to get to her breast. The nipple twists in my fingers, the feel of it as hard and taut as my dick. I palm around it, eventually lowering my head to get a taste of it again. It’s as sweet as it was the last time round, and the moan that leaves her throat tells me everything I didn’t think I wanted to know.
Something inside her surrenders, the tension in her now all to do with fucking rather than hate. I groan and lift my head away from her nipple, my fingers reaching for her panties to start pushing them out of the fucking way. Three fingers sink straight into her soaked pussy, driving in hard. She gasps and tries moving away from the feeling, her body backing up. Fuck that. I look up at her, keeping my gaze fixed on those angry eyes of hers until she stays still. Good. Better. My teeth bite down along her stomach and hip bones until I’m hovering over her cunt and watching it writhe around on my hand.
My hand speeds up, fingers pushing in and out as I start sucking on her clit. She forges into me, more moans and gasps coming as her hips start grinding. Fuck, she tastes sweet. Wet. Her hands wrestle my hair, tugging me where she wants me as if I’m here to be used. Nothing gentle. Nothing that means anything other than the need we’re both in. And then she starts stilling in my hold, her body beginning to quiver and shake.
I yank my head away from her, tossing her hold. No, that's not happening yet. She's gonna see me, Logan Cane, and all the shit I’ve put her through when she comes. She’s gonna hate me for it and want me all the more because of it. I heave her legs, dragging her along the couch so I can get her to the desk. She starts kicking the second I try lifting her, all that fire coming back into her because she’s begun thinking about what’s she’s doing again. I chuckle and manhandle her, using my strength over hers to put her ass on the desk and spread her legs wide. The panties get torn in my eagerness, her hands winding me up all the more as she starts getting physical again. A punch lands on my neck, the impact of it making me turn fucking vicious.
“Bitch.”
