ap the thread, Cecelia.
Leisurely, he moves across my collarbone drinking in more, savoring the water along my torso and down my stomach as angry tears threaten and I bite back a sob.
Determined to see this through, I sink my nails into his scalp as his hot mouth blazes a trail across my flesh. He devours, covering every inch in his path before he parts my thighs with his palms and begins licking at my core.
Fisting his hair, I cry out at the force in which he sucks, his thick locks tickling my thighs before his tongue darts out separating me, spearing my clit with precision. And with one sure swipe of his tongue, I go boneless, my back crashing into my dresser as I throw my head back and begin to ride his face.
“Damn you,” I pound his shoulders with open palms as his licks increase speed before he slips a probing finger into me. He eats me, his hunger fueled by my cries as I silently sag against my dresser, the knobs digging into my back. Soul aching, my desire for him consumes me as I begin to tremble uncontrollably. An orgasm threatens, and I deny myself, hating him, hating me, hating that nothing has ever felt so fucking good.
“Tu te retiens.” You’re fighting.
This much I understand.
He flicks his gaze up to mine as he works me with slick fingers. The sight of my wet heat coating his digits sets my blood on fire. “Je gagnerai.” I will win.
Lust overtakes me as he drags me down to the carpet spreading my thighs wide while he hovers above. Silent, he commands my eyes as he lowers his head and begins a second round of assault. With the beckoning of skilled fingers and one more long pull on my clit, I detonate in his mouth. He rims my pulsing core as he draws out every bit of my orgasm with the lap of his tongue.
Chest heaving, he releases me to pull off his jacket before he slowly starts to unbutton his shirt. Eyes piercing, he reaches back to pluck a condom from his wallet before he tosses it next to where my head lay on the carpet. I flick my gaze to where it sits, a clear threat of where this is going if I don’t stop it.
With this one act, it will break all ties, destroy us, and any lingering hopes I have left. From his side, I’m a threat and he wants me gone, and this is the way of ensuring I have no place, no future amongst them. It’s up to me to stop it from going any further.
But I don’t. And I won’t. Because I no longer have a reason to hold on.
And because I am an addict.
A destitute product of my own imagination, of my own making.
Needy.
Sick.
Insatiable.
And with Tobias, it’s like inhaling energy, each breath I draw grows heavy with it, pulling me further into him, into a place I’ve never been.
He unzips his slacks unleashing his engorged cock, stroking it as I look on before he starts the slow roll of a condom. I catalog him, consuming every naked inch that my gluttonous mind is demanding I memorize. Dark olive skin stretches over his expansive and fully defined chest, a light smattering of hair is dusted between his pecs, and ribbed muscles line his taut abdomen and trim waist. An insanely deep V encases a trail of hair down his pelvis. Once fitted in latex, he lifts my neck in his palm, tilting my head to give me a clear view. He wants me to bear witness to the end, to his assumed victory.
And this, I refuse to deny myself, but for an entirely different reason.
He pauses briefly, a few seconds for any objection before he begins to press into me. Inch by thick inch, he takes up the whole of me and I lose my breath due to the stretch, the size of him. Cursing, he drives in further, watching intently as my mouth parts and a barely audible hiss escapes him. His features twist with restraint as his body vibrates with residual anger. And there’s no mistaking it.
This is his revenge, on my father, on the brothers who disobeyed and purposely deceived him. On me for having an unknowing hand in it. And I’m letting him have it. I’m allowing my own degradation.
Once again, I give myself over to my devil, but this time, this time is different because this time, I’ve already made peace with it on my terms. I allow him this purposefully, with every intention to see it through. And if I’m damning myself, I’m going to enjoy the burn.
He inches in and I cry out at the intrusion, the unimaginable stretch as he rolls his hips, slowly working himself into me. “Putain de merde.” Mother Fucker. “Tellement serrée,” So tight.
“Brûles en enfer.” Burn in hell. The words pour from my mouth in perfect pronunciation, and my enemy’s eyes widen a fraction before he drives into me fully.
It’s then I feel the snap…and get consumed by the afterburn.
We collectively groan before he curses in a mix of English and French pulling back entirely and thrusting in again, burying himself. Connected fully, his hot exhale hits my neck as I claw at his shoulders, breathing through the discomfort, reveling in the stretch, and indescribable pleasure.
He palms my thighs, spreading them further before he drives in again, his eyes dropping to where we connect. I bellow, my body shaking, as he drags himself along every sacred place inside of me, drawing me out. Within a few more thrusts, I spasm, fighting it, but all it takes is a shot of amber flames and the press of his finger and I topple over the edge.
I revel in the descent, my orgasm taking over, my release streaming between my legs as an ecstasy-filled cry leaves my lips. Back arching, I convulse, cleansing in a white-hot fire that unfurls throughout my limbs as my body trembles in the aftermath.
His eyes slam shut, and he throws his head back, mouth going slack as I milk his cock, the resulting turbulence shaking us both. It’s when his hooded eyes open and latch onto mine, that he loses control.