Page 10 of The Cruelest Chaos
“I want to feel it.”
My fist loosens around her shirt. I bite my lip, close my eyes, stilling inside of her a second.
Let go.
I think about Pammie’s skull. Think about Sid’s rage. About Lucifer in the room with Ezra and the girl. I think about watching my brother kill his own father. About how I couldn’t do the same, even though I should have. Even though he destroyed both of my sisters’ lives.
Another firework explodes. And another.
Let go.
I think about how I’m always angry. I always want to hurt someone. I always feel like I’m .2 seconds away from snapping. From wrapping my car around a tree. But I can’t leave my brothers. I can’t leave my family.
Let go.
I pull my fingers out, let Ella’s shirt go, and go to work on the button of my jeans, my fingers slippery withher. She tries to help me, her fingers shaking, but I slap her hand away.
But when she goes to yank down my jeans past my thighs, I let her help with that. Let her push my boxer briefs down too and watch her eyes as she takes in my aching cock.
Her slender fingers wrap around the base, and she pulls me toward her.
I pull her down by her waist, shove up her dress. I wrap my fingers around hers and help her guide me into her.
She spreads her legs wider, and I push against her. She bites her lip, lies back down, and she feels so fucking tight, it almost hurts. Her panties are pressing against the edge of my dick, too, but I don’t want to pull out and take them off of her.
I keep pushing into her, and it hurts more, even with as wet as she is.
Let go.
My heart is racing, adrenaline flooding through me as I try to hold myself back. Try to go in slowly. But I’ve got one hand on her throat, the other on her thigh and her skin feels so damn soft. She’s grabbing at my forearm with one hand, whimpering, and I know I should slow down. Maybe even get out of her and get the fuck away from her.
She’s clearly as fucked up as I am.
But she feels so fucking good.
And as I push all the way into her with a groan that I can’t hold back, Iknowthat I’m not going to stop.
And when she forces her eyes open and says, “Don’t be a fucking pussy.Hit me,” I know I’m going to do that, too.
Let. Go.
I lean down over her, moving slowly inside of her, one hand on the cold ground to hold my weight off of her. My other hand caresses her soft skin, and this close to her, with white lights exploding over the trees, I can just make out those freckles all over her beautiful face.
My mouth meets hers, but I don’t kiss her. “You sure you want me to do this, kid?”
“I’m not a fucking kid,” she snarls at me.
Then she digs her nails into my back,undermy shirt and my hoodie, and her lips part in surprise at what she feels.
My open wounds.
But she recovers quickly, and this little bitch scratches vertically down my mangled flesh, breaking the skin open again. Her eyes are narrowed in a challenge.
She scratches me again.
She meant what she said, about what she wanted.
And when I lift my hand and slap her across the fucking face,I mean it too.This isn’t a game. This isn’t some BDSM bullshit. I don’t play by any rules. There are no safe words here. She wants to get hurt,I’ll fucking hurt her.
