Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Wyn

The look in his eyes is murderous, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. His hard body is pressed against me, his long fingers curled around my throat so tight that I can barely breathe.

Warm water pours over us, but he hardly seems to notice. He’s too focused on me, his eyes wide, his jaw clenched in anger. He looks feral.

Pushing me up the wall by my throat, he uses his free hand to pull my leg over his hip. The tip of his cock is pressed against my entrance, but he doesn’t penetrate me.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? ” he says, his soft lips brushing over my face. “You want the monster inside you, is that it?”

I’m so focused on drawing each strangled breath into my lungs that I can’t even begin to form an answer. I let out a little whimper, and he smiles in response. The sick fuck.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re scared,” he whispers harshly.

I claw at his hand, my nails digging into his skin. But it doesn’t make a difference. He doesn’t even seem to notice.

Finally, he lets go, and I fall forward, coughing as I suck in several gulps of air. As I struggle to steady my breathing, he pushes into me so hard, so violently, that I cry out. He slaps a hand over my mouth, and laughs—but it’s the cold laugh of a psychopath. The kind of laughter that revels in another person’s pain.

“Lucas, please, ” I gasp when he releases my mouth. “I’m sorry.” It kills me to say that, but I’m afraid it’s the only way to get him to let up.

His lips find my throat, and he bites down, causing shards of pain to shoot through me. “It’s too late for that,” he says harshly, slamming me against the tile over and over as he drives into me forcefully. “You’ve tempted the devil, my pretty little whore, and now you’ll fucking obey.”

He’s crowding me, his hard, wet body trapping me against the tile. I push against his biceps, my blunt nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t budge. I don’t know why I thought he would. If anything, the fight just encourages him to go harder, faster.

Then he lifts me, his arms hooked under my knees, holding my full weight up, my back pressed against the tile. It allows him to drive even deeper into me, the head of his cock hitting my cervix, filling me, stretching me. The pain is so intense and so glorious, and I find myself getting lost in it.

With his lips against my throat, he moans loudly. That sound does something to me. His deep baritone vibrates through my body and opens my channel up just a fraction more.

“ Jesus, Lucas,” I groan, my arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers buried in his hair. I tug on a handful of it, pulling his head back so he’s looking at me. The look in his eyes is frightening, and enthralling. He looks lost in sensation, a slave to the drug of my body…

Then out of nowhere, still holding me, he reaches down and shuts the water off. Stepping out of the tub, he carries me out to my bed. His cock is still buried inside me until he tosses me onto the bed. I bounce on the mattress, my gaze locked on him.

He’s still angry, his brows pinched together, his jaw set. His cock is thick, and red, veins twisting around the shaft like vines. I scramble up onto my elbows and swallow.

“Are you ready to accept your punishment?” he asks.

I blink up at him, fear bubbling up again in my chest. “F-for what? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Have I? I mean, aside from taunting him just now.

His eyes darken as he glares down at me. “Last night, you drugged me,” he growls. “And I can’t let something like that stand.”

Um? Seriously? “I drugged you with the same shit you drugged me with,” I say without the conviction I was hoping for. “So we’re even.”

He shakes his head, placing one knee on the mattress. “Oh, no, baby. We’re not even close to being even,” he says darkly.

Reaching forward, he curls his long fingers around my ankle. With one rough tug, he pulls me forward, so my legs are dangling off the edge of the bed, and he’s positioned between my open thighs.

His large, muscled body is curved over mine, his eyes eating me up. He looks like he wants to rip me apart with his teeth, and I’m such a glutton for pain, I might just let him do it.

I arch my back, my sensitive nipples brushing against his chest, and that’s when I see something flicker in his eyes. Now I know I have him. He’s not as in control as he likes to think he is. He needs this as much as I do.

Grabbing my right breast, he squeezes while also pinching my nipple between the web of his thumb and forefinger. He pinches hard, and I squirm.

A sick smile spreads across his pretty-boy face. “I know what you’re doing,” he whispers harshly. “You think you can distract me with your pretty little tits.”

Okay, well, I wouldn’t exactly call them little but I’m not going to argue. Not when it looks like he wants to both fuck me and murder me.

Pulling back, he looks down at my face—his eyes traveling over every goddamn freckle. His scrutiny makes my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I’ve had a shit day. I’ve been crying, I have no makeup on, and my skincare routine has been non-existent lately. I can only imagine the millions of little imperfections he’s focusing on right now, and it makes me feel more exposed than being fully naked if I’m being honest.

Abruptly, he grabs my face, squeezing as he pulls until I’m sitting up. He’s not gentle, and the pain my jaw is so intense, my eyes start to water. When he lets go, my hand flies to my jaw, and I message it. Goddamn.

He’s standing in front of me, his straining cock at eye level.

“Open your mouth,” he says, the words grating over his deep baritone.

I swallow and shake my head. His cock is too big, and I know for a fact, if I suck him off, two seconds in, my jaw will be screaming in pain.

He grabs my face again, his strong hand crushing it. “Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth.”

He releases my face with a flourish, and I do as I’m told, opening my mouth. Taking his cock in hand, he pushes the tip past my lips and down my throat. He’s so big, I’m already choking on him, gagging as he pushes as deep as he can go.

Threading his fingers through my hair, he cups the back of my head, preventing me from pulling away, forcing me to swallow him whole.

“Mmm.” A moan reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest. “That’s it, baby. Put that sharp tongue to good use.”

He allows me just enough freedom to pull back slightly, so I can slide my lips up the length of him, then back down again. Reaching up, I grip the base of his cock, my fingers moving with the same rhythm as my mouth.

Gripping my hair tightly, he moans again, his hips thrusting forward as my tongue explores him—to the veins snaking around his shaft, to the softness of the tip, and the salty taste of his pre-cum.

His groans intensify and the muscles in his thighs tremble as I take him faster, my eyes watering, saliva dripping down my chin, adding to the frenzied feeling that’s building in my veins.

This started as a punishment for me, but the joke’s on him because I feel more powerful than ever. This domineering bastard is at my mercy and that feeling is so fucking intoxicating, it makes me dizzy.

The head of his cock brushes the back of my throat as his hips thrust forward, and I have to pull back slightly so I don’t gag. He’s trying to set the pace, but I won’t let him. He gave me the control, and I’m taking it.

I slide my hand over his hard, muscled ass cheek, my fingertips digging into his skin. His hand tightens in my hair again, and he tugs so hard, I struggle to keep my mouth on his cock. Pinpricks of pain make my eyes water even more, but I’m so focused on devouring him, I hardly notice.

I like the pain. I’m starting to discover that pain intensifies sensation and heightens pleasure.

He moans, and my clit throbs. My legs are folded under me, and I adjust my body, so my center is pressed against my heel, adding delicious pressure to the bundle of nerves that are nestled between my highs.

His muscles tense under my hand as he groans loudly, his hips roll forward and back, fucking my mouth. I rock my own body in rhythm with his thrusts, the friction of my heel bringing me close to orgasm. I itch to reach down and rub my clit, but if I use my hand, I know he’ll try to stop me—he’s fucking cruel that way. The only way I’m getting off is if he doesn’t know.

My body rocks forward, then back, as I take him deeper into my mouth–as deep as he can get without triggering my gag reflex. His groans grow louder, and I can feel him slowly begin to lose control.

“ Fuck , Wyn, your mouth feels like heaven,” he grates out, his head falling back. “Oh, yeah, take it. Choke on my cum.”

When he says that, my channel clenches, and my clit twitches. There’s something in the way his deep voice drags over those filthy words, strangled and tortured, that hits me hard.

I’m so close, and I know he is too, so I pull back a little and suck hard on the head of his cock before pushing back down, my fingers encasing him, tightening. That’s all it takes. His hips push forward in one final, powerful thrust. He stills and groans deeply as his shaft pulses, and he pours his cum down my throat.

I'm only a couple of seconds behind him. I swallow him down greedily as an orgasm hits me. Waves of pleasure roll through my veins, and I moan around his cock, sucking him hard as my body shudders. His hand tightens again in my hair as the remnants of his orgasm fade, and he pulls my head back, separating my mouth from his cock.

I’m breathing hard, the echoes of my orgasm still coursing through my bloodstream. I feel spent, and fulfilled in ways I never even thought possible. Owning Lucas like that, knowing it was me who made him come hard—that’s the most powerful I’ve ever felt in my life.

He uses the crook of his finger to tilt my head up, then he gently pushes the moist hair away from my face. And when he looks down at me, he just stares, his thumb brushing reverently over my damp chin. It’s the most gentle I’ve ever seen him, and if I’m being real, I wouldn’t have thought him capable of tenderness like this.

But as I blink up at him, my body still buzzing, I notice there’s a haunted look in his eyes like he just realized something. I’d kill to know what that is.

“You’ve pleased me,” he whispers, then drops his hand and takes a step back.

On instinct, I reach out for him, because I’m not ready to end this here. I want more . More of this. More of him.

“Lucas…” I whisper, but he doesn’t reach back. He doesn’t respond at all. He just stares at me with those cold blue eyes, like he’s trying to reconcile what just happened between us.

The features of his face harden, and his jaw clenches. His gaze falls to my outstretched hand, then climbs back up to my face. With a slow shake of his head, he shoves his fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands as he tilts his head back, and screams, “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs.

Then he turns, and throws his fist into my wall, screaming “Fuck!” over and over, and over, until the drywall starts to give way. I launch off the bed, and without even thinking, I try to grab his arm. Fuck my wall. I can already see his knuckles are bloody, and I’m afraid he’ll do some real damage to himself.

“Lucas! My God, what the fuck?” I yell, pulling on him to get his attention. He ignores me, or…honestly, he’s so enraged, maybe he doesn’t even notice me.

After several minutes, he stops, the breath sawing from his lungs, bright red smudges coating my white wall, his knuckles bloody and raw. He looks crazed like he’s lost his fucking mind, and for the first time in a while, I have no idea what to do…