Page 11 of The Cruelest Chaos
I catch her chin in my hand to keep her head from turning to the side. Her nails dig in deeper and she glares up at me as I fuck her, her chest rising and falling as she breathes hard. She looks so goddamn angry, I think I’m going to come inside of her right then.
But I take a breath, hold back.
“That’s it?” she taunts me even though she’s clearly in pain. She scratches her nails slowly down another set of wounds.
I feel my lip curl up in a snarl and I see it again; that flash of fear on her pretty little face, already red from my hand. And something else too, the redness I saw below her eye.
I don’t want to think about who did that to her. I don’t give a fuck.
I put my palm over her mouth as I fuck her, but she shakes her head, tries to bite me.
If I hit her again, it’s going to fucking hurt worse.
I try to tell her as much as my hand slips down to her throat. “You don’t want this.”
She wraps her legs around me, tilts her pelvis up, angling me deeper. “I decide what I want.”
“I’m going to make you cry,” I whisper against her mouth.
She kisses me, her tongue opening up my lips, darting inside. She moans against me, then she whispers, “Do it.”
I pull back, her teeth scraping my bottom lip. But she lets me go, and I rub her cheek again.
I slam into her so hard I feel our hip bones knock together. Her breath rushes out of her in a gasp, but I don’t give her time to recover before I slap her again, and this time, I don’t hold her face.
I let her head snap to the side, long red strands of her hair splayed in the dirt.
She flexes her jaw, and I see blood on her mouth.If it’s from hitting her and not from biting her I’m going to fucking hate myself.
And yet…just as she tries to turn back to look at me, I know I’m going to come.
I press my palm against the side of her face,hard, my head going to her shoulder as I finish inside of her, a guttural groan coming from my mouth, lost in the night with the explosion of another firework.
I collapse on top of her, my hand still against the side of her face. I don’t want her to move. I don’t want her to speak. Not right now.
Her heart is flying in her chest just like mine, our pulse nearly in unison.
She’s panting beneath me, and I’m trying to catch my breath, too.
Finally, I push myself up, still inside of her.
She doesn’t look at me.
“Ella?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
Blood trickles out of her mouth, her face bright red. Two women I made bleed tonight. I’m only feeling a little bad about one of them.
Slowly, she turns to look up at me. I can see the green in her eyes, lines of blue, too. But beyond how beautiful they are, they look nearly…dead.
“It’s your turn,” I tell her softly, because I’m nothing if not a fucking gentleman, and now that I’ve just come, I’m feeling less wound up. A little…nicer.
But she shakes her head, swipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. She smears blood on the side of her face, and I have the sudden urge to lick it off. Or make her bleedmore.
“No,” she says in a soft, but steady voice.
“No?”
She nods.
