33. 33

33

Ember

W ow, he was way more pissed off than I’d imagined, but I guess he had good reason to be. I had permanently tattooed my naked body onto his skin, hadn’t I?

That stuff my dad had stashed away works fast. It hadn’t been so obvious when he’d already been asleep, but whoa, he dropped like a tree. I leaned over him, noticing he’d landed face down, so I rolled him over, checking he was still breathing, and that his heart was beating fine. It was dangerous, I knew it, because if he had a bad reaction to it, other than yelling at me, I couldn’t exactly call for help, could I?

“I’m sorry, Ethan. You forced me to do this. I wanted you to be with me, but you keep pushing me away. I just want you to love me back.” I ran to get my kit, and gloved up, to carry on with the tattoo, being watchful for any signs of him moving. Maybe I should have tied him again. I should have, but I was too eager to get on with adding shadows and highlights to my design.

He should be grateful really, because thanks to me, he didn’t have to experience the burning pain as I tattooed his skin. I mean, many of us, we find that pleasant, like it becomes addictive in itself. Most people who get a tattoo, are desperately planning their next within twenty-four hours, and that urge remains, even if it dulls a bit over time. Getting inked is just intoxicating.

Maybe I should be tattooing Ethan’s name on my own skin, so that he could see I’d permanently scarred myself for him too. Next time. It was too important to get the shading right while he wasn’t moving.

I had more than an hour of detailed work in, before his hand twitched beside me, and a low groan rumbled through his chest. He was starting to wake up.

I gathered up my kit, gave the tattoo one last wipe, and hurried from the room, hiding the kit under the floorboards with the clothes and drugs. From there, I headed into the shower, and freshened up. Maybe if I made him breakfast, he’d forgive me for the tattoo.

The shower door crashed open several minutes into my shower, and he roared my name as he dragged me from the cubicle, and slammed me up against the wall.

“You’re a fucking psycho!” He yelled, locking one of his hands around my throat.

“It suits you though,” I said breathlessly, admiring my work on his taut skin, as his stomach heaved with furious breaths.

“How fucking dare you? This is all a game to you, isn’t it? This is all just a fucking game. Your family all just use people as puppets, don’t you? It’s all about using, and abusing, and manipulating. Do the rest of them do sick shit like this?”

He tightened his grip on my throat, and both hands shot up to try and fight his iron grip. He wasn’t relenting at all.

“Eth-an,” I gasped out, clawing at his skin. He was starting to scare me. He’d kept warning me not to push him, but he’d always come back to me. Had I pushed him too far this time?

A sudden pinch of my nipple made me gasp, and then he lowered his head and sank his teeth into the fleshy part of my breast, forcing a shocked scream out of my poor constricted throat.

“Keep fucking with me, don’t you? Keep pushing me. It’s like you think you’re safe to fuck with my life, and my mind, and nothing bad will happen to you.” He slapped my breast right over the bitemark, and I gasped as pain bloomed there.

“How does that feel, huh? Does it feel like I just marked you without your fucking consent? Or do you need me to push you further?”

His free hand shoved between my legs, and pressed hard against my clit.

“How far are you trying to push me, Em? You want me to stop fighting what I want? You want me to stop holding back, and trying to protect you? You want me to hurt you, the way you’re hurting me? Maybe you want me to withdraw your consent too. Clearly that’s what you get off on.” He forced a finger inside me, and the fact that I was getting wet in the face of his rage was messed up, but at least it eased his entry, so it wasn’t as painful as it could have been.

“Wet? Your pussy is getting wet for me? You’re fucked up, Em. You’re more fucked up than anyone realises, aren’t you? You need a lesson that I hoped I wouldn’t have to teach you.”

He pushed his only pair of sweatpants down, freeing his cock, which bounced and stood proud between us.

“What lesson do you need, huh? Do I force you to choke on it? Do I shove it up that tight pussy of yours? Maybe you want that virgin ass breached instead? What will teach you a fucking lesson, Em?”

I noticed that, even in his rage, even with his threats, and warnings, he was careful not to use my full name. There was enough of him still in there that he remembered that. He grasped his cock and pressed it against my pussy, like he wanted to shove inside me, but he still held back, his eyes suddenly looking distant, like he was fighting with himself in this moment. Did I want him to stop? Did I want him to do it? Which would help him realise that we were meant for each other?

I fixed him with a glare as his eyes started to focus once more, his fingers loosening around my throat. He was starting to let common sense in again. I took a breath, and clawed my nails down the back of his hand again.

“You’re not man enough, Ethan. I’m not afraid of you,” I hissed, watching that fury settle on his face again.

“Is that so,” he growled at me, as he pressed his cock deep inside me with one sharp thrust. Oh god. Ouch .

Ethan

I KNEW I SHOULDN'T be doing it, but she’d fucking pushed me to it. I’d gone over that edge, when I first saw her naked, and dripping wet, and so fucking innocent, like butter wouldn’t melt. I mean, seriously, this crazy bitch drugged me, and tattooed me. The least she can do is take my fucking cock.

I kept her pinned against the cold tiled wall, my hand around her throat, my skin stinging from the scratch-marks she’d left that had started to show pinpricks of blood at the surface.

“Is this what you wanted, Em? You wanted to get fucked? You wanted my cock deep inside you? Well, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? You always get what you fucking want. Em wants a teacher, she gets one. Em wants to screw around with people’s lives, so she does. Em wants to get fucked, so she pushes the one man who knew better, until he breaks. Until he loses his fucking mind. Take… every… fucking… inch!”

She was whimpering, wincing with every powerful thrust, and clawing at my hand again, as it tightened around her throat once more. Her nipples were like little fucking bullets and needed bitemarks around them, so I obliged, pinning her in place with my cock, so I could torture them. Sucking on them, nipping her skin, and leaving clear bitemarks around them.

If she’d struggled, I could have torn the skin, but she’d frozen in place when she felt my teeth. Clearly I was into biting now, which hadn’t been a thing for me before, but then neither had pinning women against a wall to force my cock into them.

“Eth… an…” she choked out, her eyes starting to drift closed. Fuck. I loosened my grip, and reached down between us, pinching her clit as I started pounding her again. Her breath caught and she made a choking sound again, and then her body arched in my grip, and she made a high pitched whining sound. Her pussy was rippling around my cock as she came, and hell, it dragged me with her, because it felt so fucking good.

I released her throat, grabbing her hands and pinning them against the wall, as I held my cock inside nice and deep to fill her pussy with cum. She was whimpering, tears dripping down her face, and shuddering, but I merely stared into her eyes as I caught my breath. Ember. The one woman I wanted, and should never have had. And I just fucked her again. Without her consent. I’m a monster.

I released her, pulling back and staggering away from her, my cock sliding from her as she sagged against the wall, then crumpled down onto her ass. I grabbed a towel and passed it to her, backing up as she snatched it from me, and wiped her face with it, before she tried to wrap it around her shaking body.

The room was filling up with steam since the shower was still on, so I switched that off, but my eyes never left her. She was struggling with the towel, but when I approached, she flinched away from me.

“I can do it.”

“Em…”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking say you didn’t want that. Or that you’re sorry. Or some bullshit like that. If you’d just stop fighting the way you feel, you wouldn’t have to do it like this. You could just have me whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be cruel, and violent, Ethan. That’s a choice you made, because you were pissed off.”

I glanced down at my tattooed stomach, which looked angry and red, but was coming along really beautifully. If I’d chosen it, I’d be pleased as hell.

“You don’t do this again, Em. Whatever the fuck you used on me, don’t you fucking dare do it again.”

I left the room, heading back to my bedroom and slamming the door, before I fell back against it and slid to the floor. What the fuck is happening to me?