Beckett
Animals always struggle.Even though it’s futile, they can’t escape. Once the trap clenches down on you, breaking your bones, you’re done for. But still, they wiggle, continue to hold on to a sliver of hope. I love the fight, but I love watching it drain out of their eyes even more.
I watch my rabbit struggle beneath me. Her body bucking into mine. The fear and anger glittering in her eyes. I play connect the dots with her edible freckles as I wait for her to accept her fate. Linger on the coppery red tones of her hair. Watch the anger flush her cheeks and turn her green eyes to liquid fire as she throws choice words at me.
“Get off of me,” she grits out through light pink full lips, the top slightly fuller than the bottom.
“Why are you in my room?” I fight the urge to press into her. I want to so badly, but like a stupid animal, I would get stuck in the trap. And I wouldn’t even try to fight my way out of it.
“I got lost.”
“Liar,” I whisper, my hands flexing on her wrists that I have held hostage above her head. “I don’t usually repeat myself, but for you I’ll make an exception. What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Room?” I make sure to sharpen my voice with each syllable, so she understands the danger of my presence. Knows how truly bad she fucked up. Rabbits shouldn’t run into the lion’s den. They almost always end up getting eaten.
She licks her lips, eyes so magnificent with the streaks of light and dark greens, mixed with flecks of gold. Eyes that should not be staring me down as if I’m the one who is caught. “I was looking for Devlin’s room.”
My body stiffens, my fingertips gripping her wrists in a bruising manner. “Why?” My voice is barely-controlled anger, I have to will my body to not tremble from the onslaught of emotions.
She smirks, the fucking cocky rabbit. “I wanted to get fucked.”
One.
Two.
“Yeah?” I ask, my head tilting a little.
Three.
Four.
“You came to the right place then.”
I snap.
Releasing her wrists, my hand goes to her neck, wrapping around the delicate skin, relishing in the way her mouth parts in a soft gasp. My other hand snakes down between us, under her shorts, finding the silky material drenched in wetness and heat.
“Wait,” she gets out.
I shake my head slowly, eyes boring holes into hers as I slip two fingers into her roughly.
“Fuck,” she whispers, eyes fighting not to close as pleasure blooms beneath her eyelashes. I remove my hand from her neck, fingers slipping through the copper strands and gripping at her scalp. I groan, giving in to my want and letting my head fall to her neck, teeth sinking into her thrumming pulse. I want to taste it, the blood that makes this organ pump. But I’m crossing so many lines already. That need will have to wait.
I scissor my fingers inside her, hitting her sweet, aching spot as my thumb rolls over the delicate bundle of nerves slowly. The moan that falls from her lips is loud and trembles with anger. As if she doesn’t want to enjoy what I’m giving her. My hand leaves her hair, clamping over her mouth. Her eyes flash open, widening. I commit the image to memory, wanting to draw this for my own pleasure. “I don’t want anyone to hear you. Try to save you.”
She shudders, hands clutching my shirt as she gives in, accepting the fate of my trap. She grinds herself into my hand, body arching off the floor. I watch her small breasts bounce, her nipples hardening to peaks beneath the thin shirt. I see the edge of one of my sketches sticking out of her shirt and I smirk, knowing she’s found my hidden drawings of her, but I don’t stop.
The art of watching her take what she wants from me, getting off on my fingers, is erotic. Makes me uncomfortably hard. I wrap my free hand in her hair again, pulling her mouth to mine as I slant my lips over hers. Our chests mold together and I allow myself this one taste as I slip my tongue inside her warm mouth. She combusts, her pussy walls spasming around my fingers, body twitching as I devour her mouth.
My breathing is erratic, the most turned on I’ve ever been in my life as I hold her trembling body to me. Pulling back, I murmur against her lips, my hand snatching the stolen drawling from her shirt. “Thieving rabbit. Run, while you still can.”
Her hands tighten in my shirt for a brief second before she’s pushing me back and crawling away from me. When she’s on her feet, she runs out of my door.
I growl as I readjust myself in my pants, my dick aching for release. Instead, I grab my sketch pad and pencil, throwing my body on my bed as I sketch my new favorite memory.
But it’s too late for my rabbit. Because she let me have a taste. And it wasn’t enough.
* * *
I sip my coffee,scrolling the stock market on my phone, when I hear small feet stomping toward me. “Hey!” Amiyah smacks my arm.