25
Ihate you.
I hate you.
Those words leave my mouth far too often and yet every time I use them, I find I don’t mean them quite as much as the last. No, hate isn’t something I feel towards this man any more and that simply terrifies me.
Heterrifies me.
He’s a man that commands a room, commands respect, whether that be through fear or loyalty, he’s lethal, brutal, vengeful and I’m drawn to that. His presence makes people cower, when he walks into a room he doesn’t have to say a word for everyone toknowthe man is king.
His darkness calls to me. His violence and menace entices me.
I know how stories like ours end but I’m still the little idiot moth drawn to the flame, I find myself falling into him, waiting for the burn. There isn’t much I can do to stop it, I’ll just revel in the pain as the flames devour me.
His possessiveness, the way he handles me, both acting as if I’m fragile and the strongest woman he’s ever known, I can’t help but let my stupid heart fall for him. There’s something so very satisfying about knowing he’s a monster that is only soft with me.
His thick arms are banded around me, holding me to his chest, his heat enveloping my body like a caress. His breathing is soft and gentle, brushing the fine hairs at the nape of my neck as he breathes deeply in his sleep. It’s still dark out, I can see the moon hanging fat and swollen in the night sky, silver light bathing the compound grounds.
I’ve seen more people this week than I ever have since being here, armed guards, men employed by Lex standing in the halls. They pay me no mind bar the odd hello but Gruff still isn’t speaking to me after I broke his nose.
I apologized. He wasn’t having it.
Gently, I roll onto my back and then turn again until I’m facing the man of my nightmares.
His beauty is cruel and unforgiving, merciless, all hard lines and sharp edges. My fingers tickle over the thick hair growing around his mouth and up his cheeks and then further up into his thick mane of hair, the strands soft between my fingers.
Slowly, I lean forward, allowing myself a kiss against his pillowy lips. When I pull away his eyes are open, staring at me, the silver irises so bright they rival the moon.
He reaches up and untangles my hand from his hair, pulling it down until my fingers hover in front of his mouth and gently, so very gently, his presses a kiss to every finger.
My heart stutters in my chest at the intimate way his lips press against my skin, the air from his breath caressing my skin almost as softly as his lips.
The room is silent other than the inhales and exhales of our breathing but in the quiet I swear a thousand words are said. Words neither of us would ever dare to vocalize. When he releases my hand, he brings his own to my face, feathering the tips down the side of my face, down the curve of my neck and over my shoulder. I’m still naked from our earlier adventures and I know he is. I press the palm of my hand against his sternum, feeling the muscles coil and jump under my touch. I love how he reacts to me, even from the first moment we met, there was no way he could hide his reaction to me, I felt it in the way the air around us charged with tension and electricity, in the way we both exploded like storms whenever we touched.
“Little bird,” he mumbles, the first one to break this mutual silence.
“Twisted king,” I reply.
His deep chuckle vibrates through me, “What am I going to do with you?”
I push his shoulders, forcing him onto his back and then straddle his narrow hips. My eyes devour his naked torso, his hard muscles, the definition around his pecs and the V that carves his hips. I feel him grow hard between my legs, his cock pressing into my sensitive flesh. His hands squeeze the tops of my thighs as his eyes narrow in on me. Rolling my hips I rub against his shaft, pleasure shooting up my spine.
“I want you,” I admit.
“I thought you hated me,” he smirks, his fingers biting into the fleshy areas of my legs. When I grind my hips again his eyes roll back and his fingers tighten, his control becoming paper thin.
“Shut up,” I growl.
That deep chuckle shoots straight to my clit and in one quick movement, he shifts my weight and pistons his hips, entering me in one swift move. I cry out into the darkness, feeling him stretching and filling me in the most painfully pleasurable way.
“Fucking ride me, baby,” he growls, “let me watch you.”
His filthy mouth fuels my need to own him, have him in everyway and with him buried so deep I begin to roll my hips, using his chest to help steady me. His breathing is heavy, and his moans fill the darkness. He takes his hand away from my thigh and runs it up the centre of my chest, through the valley of my breasts until his fingers curl around my throat. His hand tightens, fingers pressing in at the edges of my windpipe and he jerks me forward.
My mouth slams against his violently, his teeth pulling at my bottom lip, nipping hard enough to draw blood that dribbles onto my tongue.
“That’s it,” he rasps into my mouth, that hand still banded around my throat and now one in my hair, tugging my head back so my neck is stretched out and open for him. In this position I have no control, I have no way to move and he knows it. On my knees, straddled over his hips he pounds into me from below, holding my head back, the sting on my scalp and the pressure on my throat only adding to the pleasure wracking my system.