Page 82 of Bite The Terror That Feeds

My other hand cupped his face, and my fingers dug into his short strands as our tongues danced together. I kissed a different man from the one I’d fought. Now they felt like two different people, because it seemed impossible that someone so violent could be so gentle.

His hand slid between the bedding and my lower back to find the fabric of my underwear. He hooked his fingers into the cotton then dragged them down beneath my ass, getting them over my hips.

I turned my body as we continued our kiss, helping him get them off the rest of the way. He broke our kiss for an instant to pull the panties off my ankles. His intensity had returned, his desire burning like fire in his eyes. When he returned his lips to mine, he looked at me for a moment before he closed his eyes. His body was positioned to the side of mine. My shirt had been pushed above my belly button, so I was mostly naked on his bed.

His fingers brushed the insides of my thighs as they made their way up to the place I ached the most. I’d come here to kill my enemies, but now, I wanted my greatest enemy to touch my most sacred place.

His fingers never made it to the place that craved his attention.

He broke our kiss.

My eyes opened to see his face above mine. His eyes were locked on to mine as he brought his fingertips to his lips and licked them.

That was enough to make my spine shiver.

His warm fingers landed against my clit and immediately rubbed it in a circular motion.

Fuck, it felt divine.

My hand cupped the back of his head to bring his kiss to my lips.

He wouldn’t kiss me. He watched me instead, his fingers rubbing my clit slowly.

It felt so good, made me want to squeeze my knees together just to make his fingers press harder. I felt my hips tilt and rock, trying to get his fingers to go faster, to give me more of this pleasure.

His intensity increased as he watched me writhe. His dick was rock hard against me, begging to be burrowed in my softness. His breathing had increased too, matching the speed of mine.

Like the sun that peeked over the horizon at daybreak, I spotted my climax far off in the distance. My clit became more tender, every little application of pressure torture. I wanted more, so much more.

He gave me what I wanted, more pressure, more circles.

My head rolled back, and I released an excited moan. It felt so good, but it still wasn’t quite enough.

His lips moved to my ear. “Beg me to fuck you.”

He had me right where he wanted—and he wasn’t afraid to play dirty. The humiliation. The horror. But it felt so good, I couldn’t just get up and leave. I wanted the ending. I needed the ending. “Fuck me…” I said it through gritted teeth, knowing that smug grin would move across his face.

“You forgot my name, baby.”

I wanted to jab my fingers into his wound, but I was still paralyzed by pleasure. “Fuck me, Cobra.”

“You forgot please.”

I grew tired of these games. I just wanted to come. “Go fuck yourself.”

“But I want to fuck you.” He continued to rub my clit, his intense eyes locked on mine. “I just need that magic word.”

I gritted my teeth and released a growl. “Please fuck me, Cobra. There. You happy?”

He pulled his fingers away and moved on top of me. “I’m about to be.” He pushed my shirt over my head so my tits were free. My legs were bent, and my pelvis was tilted, my body folded and pinned underneath him.

He slid between my soft thighs and pushed his fat head between my folds. It took a second for him to break through, to feel my wetness, to slide inside and then sink deep down.

I inhaled a deep breath to mask the moan.

Such a big dick.

He gave his own moan as he savored my tightness.

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