He licks my earlobe, and I shiver as his groan vibrates off my skin. “Did you put on perfume? You smell so good I could eat you up. Fucking water lilies.”
I’m glad I did spray some.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” says me, who was planning to sneak into his room not two seconds ago.
“I know.”
“You’re not even supposed to be in London.”
“I know.”
“You could’ve at least told me you were coming so I’d be mentally prepared.”
“I know.”
“Do you have anything to say aside from I know?”
“You’ll never be out of my sight again, Cecily.”
The possessive finality in his tone causes my mouth to go dry, and I swallow a few times. “What if I have to be out of your sight?”
“That won’t happen.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Hmm. That’s right. I had to see and touch you properly for all the times I couldn’t today.” His hand sneaks under my shirt, then stops over my bare pussy, and a gruff sound vibrates off his vocal cords. “Fuck, you’re ready and soaking wet for me. Such a good girl, my Cecily.”
My head falls back against his chest as he slides two fingers inside me. His touch is firm and he easily finds my sensitive spot and strokes it with command.
His other hand glides beneath my shirt, over my stomach, and then grabs a breast and pinches my engorged nipples. “I love your tits, so round, perky, and they fit perfectly in my palm.”
He rolls the nipple between his fingers, pinching, stimulating, torturing. He adds another finger to my pussy, pushing, curling, thrusting, and matching the rhythm on my breasts.
I can’t control the moans that slip out of my mouth, and it’s not for lack of trying. My parents’ bedroom is down the hall, and they could come to check on me any second, but that seems to be the least of my worries right now.
Jeremy has always been intense during sex. The type of intense that has you begging and coming back for more. But this is the first time he’s taken it slow, as if meaning to drive me insane with the rhythm alone.
“Tell me, Lisichka, do you always sleep with nothing beneath your shirt in your house?” He accentuates his words by pumping his fingers against my G-spot.
“N-no…”
“Then why did you today?”
“I…felt hot.”
He pinches my nipple and drives into me with a savage rhythm. “Your tight little cunt is swallowing my fingers and messing up my hand, so maybe it’s horny instead of hot. I bet she wants to be fucked so good, until you’re begging me to stop in that sexy little voice of yours.”
“S-stop talking like that.”
“But I love it when you’re horny for me.” He rotates his hips, and a huge erection bumps against the crack of my arse. “I love how your body melts into mine, how every part of you comes to life at my touch. I love how you clench around my fingers and cock as if refusing to let me go.”
His lips fall on my throat and feast on the thin flesh, then he’s biting down on my collarbone.
I jerk in his grip, the multitude of stimulation flashing through me all at once. I don’t know if it’s his words, his touch, or the fact that it’s him, but I can’t stop the flood that washes over me.
My chest quakes, and my legs shake from the force of the orgasm. Even my moan is broken up by the successive contractions in my lower belly.
“Fuck.” He bites my earlobe, my cheek, and my lip. “You look so beautiful when you come.”
I’m breathing heavily, feeling no different than a doll in his hold. I love being the subject of his desire. I love how he can’t touch me enough or get his hands on every part of me enough.
He releases me but only so he can do a quick job of tugging his shirt free and kicking away his shorts. He also went commando, and for some reason, that causes my temperature to rise.
I can’t help raking my gaze over the inked ridges of his biceps, the rippling of his chest muscles, and the pulsing of his hard, thick cock.
A sense of apprehension goes through me. It doesn’t matter how many times I see it, touch it, suck it, or am fucked into oblivion by it. Jeremy has a huge cock that hurts every time it’s inside me. The good type. The pleasurable type.
But I still have that moment of doubt anyway.
A minute of silence stakes its claim between us and he looks at me like he’ll feast on my flesh. Under the dim light of my side table lamp, his eyes appear nearly black, hungry with lust and other raw emotions.
Desire.
Possessiveness.
Obsessiveness.
Adoration.
The last is merely a hint, but I see it. I saw it earlier, too, at the dinner table when he told Mum that I listened to him like no one else has.
I saw a feeling I’d never dreamed of associating with a hard, cold man like Jeremy. A feeling that I would sell my left kidney for at the prospect of witnessing it again.
And here it is once more, so soon and under different circumstances.
The moment of silence comes to a crashing halt when he removes my shirt with one savage tug and throws it aside. His fingers splay out on the back of my neck and he kisses me.
No, he claims me.
His kiss is both of adoration and possessiveness. A flickering emotion that alternates between softness and harshness. He slams the front of my body against his, crushing my breasts with his chest and stabbing my stomach with his cock.
It’s not pretty. It’s not nice. It’s animalistic and intense. It’s a clashing of teeth, a stamp of ownership, and proof to the changing of our dynamics.
When we started with sex, chasing, and kinks, he never kissed me. We merely used each other for our sexual needs. We fed off one another’s depraved tendencies and drew each other’s blood. We both ran—me to be chased, him to hunt. But maybe that’s not the only reason. Maybe we were also running from the feelings we saw in each other’s eyes.
What we shared all those months ago couldn’t have been only physical. At least, it wasn’t for me.
Maybe it wasn’t for him either, because ever since we got back together, Jeremy always kisses me before, during, and after fucking me. Sometimes, he kisses me for the duration of it.
He, too, is probably telling me that it’s never been physical for him either. He couldn’t have gotten those releases and satisfaction if it were anyone else but me.
Or that’s what I hope.
He wrenches his lips from mine but speaks against them as he grabs my arse, fingers digging in the flesh. “I’m going to claim this hole tonight, Lisichka. It’s going to be mine, too, like your cunt, your mouth. You.”
That sense of apprehension about his size returns. He’s always played with and fingered my back hole, but he’s never gone beyond that. It’s hard when he fucks me in the pussy. I don’t think I’m physically able to take him in the arse.
But, on the other hand, I want him to own every part of me, too.
Sometimes I wish he was chasing me, taking me against my will in our twisted play. That way, my busy brain wouldn’t have a say in it.
“A-are you going to hurt me?”
His fingers thread in my hair, pulling, twisting, keeping me in place. “Probably.”
I shudder, my heart nearly falling to my feet from the nerves. “Take it by force.”
“By force?”
“Like when you chase me. That way, I won’t be able to think about it.”
A slight smirk lifts his lips. It doesn’t matter how civil Jeremy tries to be. He’s first and foremost a monster, and he gets off on the chase.
On scaring me.
Of having me be completely his.
“You’re my perfect little whore, but you’re also my good girl. I’m going to fuck you like you’re both.” His fingers unclench from my hair and he releases me. “Now, run.”
I stumble from the lack of his touch, catching myself before I hit the wall. He remains in place, arms crossed, and his chest rising and falling in a controlled rhythm.
His outside demeanor doesn’t fool me, though.
If anything, my muscles lock, and every fiber of my being rises to the surface at the promise of being chased.
Of being thrown down and taken.
I’m absolutely sick in the head, but as he stares at me with a fire that matches my own, I don’t care.
I run to the only other place available—the bathroom.
The moment I fling the door open, he’s behind me, the sound of his steps barely audible compared to my raging heartbeat and the roaring in my ears.
I throw something at him, a towel, but he merely ducks, letting a cruel smirk paint his sinful lips.
“You’re trapped, Lisichka, so how about you give up?”
I run behind the bathtub, grabbing my breasts to stop their jiggling, but my plan to go back to the room is put to an abrupt halt when I find him standing at the door.
My harsh breathing fills the bathroom as I stare at his dispassionate eyes, at the promise of pain behind them. I make the snap decision to go right.
He goes left, meeting me in the middle.
I squeal when he reaches out to catch me, but I manage to duck, then sprint forward.
Before I can celebrate escaping him, a strong hand sinks into my hair, wraps around my nape, and knocks me against the shower glass. My whole body glues to the cold surface, and my eyes zero in on the mirror opposite us.
Jeremy looks like a giant beast behind me, his muscular tanned thighs visible on each side of my pale ones as he pins me in place. The tattoos undulate and revolt on his abs, biceps, and chest with each intake of air.
I try to fight and push against him, but he pulls me back and slams me against the glass again, knocking my breath out of my lungs.
“Shhh. I’m going to need you to be real quiet for me when I fuck your ass.” He slides his hand to my stomach and exerts force so that my arse cheeks press against his groin.
A low grunt rips from him, and I don’t know if it’s due to the friction or the fact that I’m downright shaking against him.
He glides his fingers from my pussy to my back hole. “Mmm. Such a dirty little slut. The chase made you so wet, you’re dripping with it.”
He does it again, smearing my wetness over my back hole, but this time, he thrusts a finger inside and I gasp. He’s often played around with it, even drove a knife handle in it once, and I had an intense orgasm.
But this is the first time that he’s actually fucking me here.
He adds another finger, filling me until I’m unable to breathe. I glue myself against the glass door as if that will be able to save me from the clutches of his man.
No, not a man.
He’s a beast now.