“Keep sucking,” he hisses, pulling me out of my head. Breathing in deep, I hold my breath as I swallow him once more, tears welling in my eyes from the sheer size of him.
His hand grabs the nape of my neck to keep me still while he pumps his hips, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest.
My pussy throbs in response, and embarrassingly enough, I almost want to cry. I was convinced I’d always be broken, never being able to touch or be touched. But giving Zade pleasure doesn’t make me feel weak and helpless like I thought it would. To see him lose himself in my mouth makes me feel like a queen sitting upon her throne.
He needs me so fucking bad in this moment and knowing I can take it away… my thighs clench to abate the ache growing between them.
He fucks my mouth savagely, saliva spilling past my lips in which I use my hand to spread up and down his length, his teeth gnashing in response.
I come up for air, trails of spit connecting his dick to my mouth.
“Stick out that tongue for me, baby.”
I do as he says without regard, peering at him through my wet lashes.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he rasps. He grabs the base of his cock and slaps it on my tongue a few times, his brows pinched, and mouth parted.
A beast and a god twisted together, forming something wholly unnatural.
And I realize, I never needed to be afraid of his touch. It was men that defiled me, and Zade was never a man.
I tug against his hold in my hair, but he resists, fisting the strands tighter. He lifts his other hand and drags his thumbs roughly over the underside of my eyes, smearing mascara down my cheeks.
His chest rumbles, and his voice is guttural when he says, “You look like such a pretty whore for me.”
A flash of anger ignites inside of me, and he only smiles in response. He jerks my head closer to him. The tip of his cock brushes against my breasts, and his eyes fall, a spark flaring in his gaze. By the time he drags his eyes up to me, I know exactly what he’s thinking.
“You were never a whore for those men, little mouse. You know why?”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because they never owned any part of you. They took what they did not possess. That doesn’t make you a whore; that makes you a survivor.”
A sheen of tears wells over my eyes. I drop them to conceal the weakness, but he jerks my head up, refusing to let me hide.
A devilish grin quirks his lips up. “But you are my whore. You’re my everything, and you become so much more with each passing day. I possess every fucking part of you, Adeline. Even when you screamed and cried that you didn’t want me, you could never let me go. All those nights you stood at your window, letting me watch you. Confronting me instead of running and instigating me knowing what would happen. And when you did run, you only ever used your mouth to try and get away. You gravitated towards me, just as I did you. And that is something no other man will ever have.”
He’s right. I never did act appropriately to him stalking me.
There’s no denying how contradicting it is to assault and stalk a woman when you’re trying to save others from the same thing. Nor is there denying how despite these things, there’s a twisted part of me that has always liked it. It was never about my body succumbing to him, but my soul, too.
Xavier wanted from me what only Zade could accomplish. He wanted my body to reveal a hidden truth and show him that our connection ran deeper than flesh on flesh. And when the only truth he found was that I would never want him, he grew angry and desperate.
That was a truth only Zade could uncover.
Like attracted to like-his darkness to mine. I was running from it while he was forcing me to see who I really am.
Zade and I-we don’t make sense to the outside world. Barely even in my own head. Yet I’m finding it hard to care anymore. I won’t ever justify what Zade has done to me, but I do forgive him. Not only that, but I accept him.
He told me before that he wanted me to fall in love with the darkest parts of him, and I have.
Every fucked-up piece of him.
Sensing the resolve, he jerks my head again. “Spit on my cock, baby. Get it nice and wet for me.”
Keeping my eyes locked on his, I stick out my tongue, letting the saliva pool before dripping off the tip and right onto his cock.
“Can never be too wet, can you, kitty cat?” I say coyly, echoing his words back to him from our first encounter.
He grins, the act damning to my soul. Lifting his hand, he thumbs my bottom lip harshly.
“Keep it up, little mouse. This sharp tongue isn’t the only thing capable of getting me wet. I could come just thinking about my cock covered in your blood.”
I bite my lip, a shot of fear pulsing through my system from his dangerous tone. A shiver rolls down my spine, hitting each vertebra on the way down.
It feels fucking glorious.
I rub my spit up and down his length, the noises crude. His eyes droop, his mouth opens as he stares at me like he’s praying I defy him.
“Good girl,” he drawls. “Now lean forward and put my dick between those beautiful tits of yours.”
Biting my lip, I do as he asks, looking up at him seductively. He may be spitting his demands, but he’s still under my mercy. Proven by the way his head tips back, a groan working through his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
He succumbs to me like the Titanic did the ocean. Indestructible-unsinkable-to everyone but me. I’m the raging sea that conquered him and sunk him to his very knees, and he was helpless to stop me.
He pistons his hips upward, and I squeeze him tighter between my breasts, tipping my chin down to let another trail of spit fall from my tongue.
The sight of his cock driving up between them has my pussy clenching, arousal spreading down my thighs. A moan of my own slips out, pulling his eyes back down to me.
“Is this making your pussy wet?” he grinds out past his teeth, punctuating it with a harsh thrust. “Moaning like a whore while watching me fuck your tits. Does it make you wish it was your pussy instead?”
“Yes,” I confess, riveted by the fierce look on his face. My heart ramps up, but I trust Zade. I trust that he knows how far to push me.
“Rub your clit, I want you to come when I do,” he orders, knocking away my hands from my breasts and replacing them with his own, squeezing them tightly around his length.
Reaching down, I swirl my finger across my clit, shuddering and grinding my hips against my hand harder.
My head begins to tip back, eyes rolling as I circle faster. Zade’s hand sharply slaps the side of my breast, and I snap my head back down in response with a yelp.
“Eyes on me, little mouse.”
He thrusts his hips in quick, short thrusts, and I can only stare, intoxicated by the sight of a god coming undone.
“Fuck, Addie. These tits are going to be covered in my cum. You ready for me, baby?”
I nod my head frantically, my voice trapped beneath the moans spilling from my mouth.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.