Page 85 of Behind the Shadows
Unable to speak, I nodded. Kip leaned back and unbuttoned his jeans before he lowered his zipper and freed his large cock. I stifled my moan, ready to suck him until he came in my mouth.
“You’re not safe with me, little ghost, but you’re seen. And I would rather die than let anyone take that from you again.” Hestroked the back of my hair, his words penetrating deep inside me. Kip was the only man who truly saw me for what I was. The darkness that consumed me, the thirst for more, the desire to get blood on my hands and stand by his side.
“Open.” He stood and rubbed the head of his cock against my lips.
I did as he said and he grabbed the back of my head, holding me still as he shoved his entire length into my mouth, choking me.
“That’s it, Holland. Don’t pretend you’re okay for me. Don’t filter the rage, the scars, the nightmares. I want it all. The pain. The darkness. The wreckage. Because those are the pieces that make you mine.”
My eyes glistened, but I didn’t cry. Not yet. I just welcomed him like a confession.
He slid his cock in and out of my mouth until my jaw ached from the size of him. My fingernails dug into his thigh, leaving red marks on his skin. I might be his, but he was also mine, and I would mark him too.
“Your hot mouth feels so good. Such a good girl taking it all.”
He smoothed my hair, his dark gaze trained on me as I ran my tongue along his shaft. I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked as I sucked and licked.
“Jesus,” he said quietly. Kip stepped away and pulled out of my mouth. I wiped the trail of saliva from my chin and waited for his next command. He continued to watch me as he reached up and tugged his necklace, freeing the cross.
“Get on the bed and spread your legs.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry with the idea of what he was about to do to me. From what he’d said, I’d loved it when he’d fucked me with his cross, but I’d been asleep and didn’t remember much, only the feeling after the fact. My belly flip-flopped as I crawled onto the mattress and parted my legs for him.
“You're wet just thinking about what I’m about to do to you, aren’t you? Your tight cunt is dripping wet, ready for me to do with as I please.” He knelt in front of me and then took the cross and ran it up the inside of my thigh. Kip leaned in, his breath grazing my center. With his free hand, he gently spread me apart, then ran his tongue over my swollen clit.
A soft whimper escaped me as he dragged the crucifix up my leg until he reached my pussy. He pressed it against my entrance, the cool metal causing me to jump.
“Are you nervous, little ghost?”
“A little.”
With a wicked gleam in his eye, he pushed the cross inside me, slowly. My gaze widened as he slid it in and out. The ridges of the metal sent pleasure rippling through me, and I gasped.
“Oh, god.”
Kip chuckled. “He’s not here, but your monster is.” He released the cross and stepped back. “Fuck yourself with my cross. Let me watch your tight cunt take it all in.”
He sat back down as I took control and pushed it inside me, then pulled it out again. My body trembled as it reached new places inside me. My lips parted as I allowed myself to fully give in to the pleasure. I pumped it faster while the whole world fell away. The only thing that existed was the sharp, searing edge of the crucifix, the hungry pulse of my cunt, and the way Kip’s eyes set me ablaze with each thrust.
He looked at me, unmoving for a moment, cock in hand. He stroked himself slowly, deliberate—never breaking that dark, devouring eye contact. I fucked myself shamelessly with his cross, whimpering as it hit a spot inside me that made my toes curl. The metal was slick with my arousal. Each time I pulled it out, another string of wetness clung to it, and when I pushed itback in, my hips rose off the bed like I was begging to be filled even deeper.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “Sainted. Desecrated.”
The deep, hard pressure of the cold steel worked me into a quivering mess. My hips bucked off the bed, straining for more of it, more of him, because all I’d ever done was reach for the next damn thing I was told I couldn’t have.
Through the haze of sensation, I watched Kip. He stroked his cock slowly, torturing himself as much as me. The cross was slick, and it slid in more easily every time. I wanted to be ruined like this. I wanted to know what it was like to be split open and worshipped at the same time.
“Harder,” he ordered, his command low and mean. “If you can’t fuck yourself properly, I’ll do it for you.”
I shuddered and obeyed, pushing the cross in deep, as far as it would go, feeling my cunt flutter and clamp around it, greedy, insatiable. My clit throbbed so hard it was almost painful, and I moaned, louder than before.
He leaned in, his voice a growl against my ear. “You look so fucking pretty like this. So broken and so hungry.” He yanked the cross from my hand and left it inside me, then bent over and sucked my clit between his lips, tongue flicking mercilessly as he fucked me with the cross, punishing and relentless.
I jerked, grabbing his hair, dragging him closer. I rode his tongue, the ozone scent of holy things turned sacrilegious.
“Say it,” he commanded, never letting up, each thrust of the cross synchronized with each suck on my clit. The pleasure built and built until I thought I’d die from it.
“I want you.” My confession was raw and desperate. “I want you to fucking break me.”
