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“You infuriate me,” Ambrosius said quietly, yet somehow the words hit Gwen so loudly.
“I—”
“Uh-uh,” he tsked. “I think we’re done with words, now.”
Ambrosius dropped his cane, and just as quickly as he moved across the table, he curled his hand around her neck and slammed their mouths together. It was so unexpectedthat Gwen almost fell again, if not for Ambrosius’ other hand supporting the small of her back. Instinct demanded that Gwen get away, to do something to stop the hot mouth against her own.
She could see out of the corner of her eye, the scroll case just within arm’s reach on the table. If she used it to bludgeon his head, Gwen was mostly sure he would forgive her. Her fingers slowly inched onto the table, but stopped the moment Ambrosius ran his tongue along her lips. The same tongue she had been having nightmares about, that had driven her to frustration night after night. Hot and insistent, and all too easy to allow into her mouth.
Tonight had been afuckingnight, so what was one more bad decision?
Gwen slid her hands beneath his jacket, clutching his shirt. She opened her mouth, allowing Ambrosius inside, and whimpered at the first hot stroke against her tongue. This was different from the first time they had kissed. Gwen had been rightfully put out, but that was before she knew what he could do with it.
Now, she wanted it.
Now, sheneededit.
And that need got worse when his teeth nicked her bottom lip again, blood filling her mouth. Ambrosius chased it, the heat radiating from his mouth burning like a campfire. A quiver of pain shot through her tongue where she had burned it days prior. Gwen groaned, leaning into him and tugging at his shirt. She nearly whined when he pulled away, the sight of his monstrous tongue curling back into his mouth was torture.
“Needy, always soneedy, Gwen,” Ambrosius chuckled. “What am I to do with you, hmm?”
That sametoneof authority—no, of a thing that lived under beds and tormented helpless people at night—shouldn’t have made Gwen shiver the way it did. Out of fear, yes, but from arousal? The evidence suggested so as she squirmed in his arms, allowing him to press her against the kitchen table. It was yet another fucked up thing Gwen had discovered about herself since coming to know him. One that Gwen could literally not give a flying fuck about, because Ambrosius was pawing her cutoffs. Long fingers undoing the button and zipper with ease.
It took everything in her not to shout as those same fingers slowly dipped into the front of her jeans, brushing against wiry hair. Gwen’s knuckles paled as she tightened her hold on the edge of the kitchen table. He was close enough now that his palm pressed against her lower abdomen, his face close enough that Gwen could feel him exhale. She nearly cried when he stopped, fingers still against her soft mound. When she had enough sense to look at his face, Gwen could see he was staring at her expectantly.
Gwen licked her lips before she found her voice again.
“Why are you…”
Ambrosius smiled, wicked and mean.
“Say itagain.”
Lust had made her brain go fuzzy and impatient as she stared at him. It took her a moment to realize what he was implying—what he wanted her to say. It made her grow even hotter, eyes burning, torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss the smug look off his face. He was absolutely telling her to beg him to touch her.
But she also realized he—in his own fucked up way—was asking her for consent. He was giving her a way out,depending on her answer. Gwen knew he wouldn’t go any further unless she gave into his demand.
Gwen had never been the type of person to follow through with things that disinterested her. But when she found something she did like, Gwen had a tendency to dive headfirst. She usually worried about asking questions later, and now was no exception.
Doe eyed, Gwen reached for his wrist, her own fingers pressing on top of his.
“Daddy,” she breathed.
His grin widened, sharp teeth coated in black ichor and saliva before the light went out. Gwen didn’t have a moment to react before Ambrosius finally crossed the short distance, fingers sliding into folds. A gasp escaped her, her hand dragging up to hold onto his wrist as Gwen tried not to lose her fucking mind as he explored.
“Lean back for me.”
His voice sounded like it was everywhere, but Gwen did as he asked. She’d do anything he wanted as long as he kept touching her. Soon, her cutoffs were hanging around her feet and Ambrosius was lifting her. Gwen scrambled, scooting up so her back was flat against the table. She could hear the scroll case roll to the other side, and the doll—well, Gwen didn’t care about that at the moment. With her legs free, Gwen widened them, allowing him more access to her. He leaned in close enough for her to clutch the lapel on his jacket.
She bit her lip when his fingers lazily circled her entrance. As if he had all of eternity to play with her. Ever impatient, Gwen moved her hips and tried to muffle a groan when the motion caused his finger to slip inside. When he started to move, Gwen tightened her jaw, tryingto stifle the noises he was pulling from her. An odd attempt to deny him, still, but it proved useless. A moan escaped her, hand tangling in his hair and tightening in angry humiliation. This appeared to please him, as the sound of terrible laughter echoed around her.
“You may be bad at your job,Gwendolyn,but you want to be agood girlfor me, don't you?” Ambrosius asked before adding another finger.
Fuck.
Fuck.
None of this should be working for her at all. She hated him, and hadn’t he admitted to not liking her a moment before? Yet, none of that mattered as Gwen pressed her hips frantically against the fingers that came to meet her. She was hot, hair sticky against her temple as she writhed on the table. Pleasure was building, but so was the small layer of fear as the light flashed, bathing the room in bursts of light.