Page 26 of Carnival
His fingers find my clit, and I moan, my head falling further against the wall. It takes me less time than I’d care to admit to getting soaking for him, and he presses his lips to mine. The kiss is bruising, as if he’s claiming ownership over me.
He swallows my moan, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. The intoxicated feeling of his kisses spreads through my veins, and I’m reminded of our last time together, when he said he’s addicted to me.
I’m addicted to him, too.
Wholeheartedly, I’m his. There’s no doubting that.
He sinks his teeth into my bottom lip, drawing blood, and sucks on it. A small whimper from me causes him to chuckle, his fingers working on me at a faster pace. He’s aware we don’t have much time, and he isn’t wasting a single second.
I yank his pants down and free his cock from his underwear, the precum coating my fingers. He groans in my mouth and moves his hands to the back of my thighs, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his waist.
He slams into me, and I scream out as his thickness fills me, the exhilarating feeling of his cock touching the most sensitive parts of me sending my mind into a frenzy.
His lips find my throat, sucking, kissing, and licking.
He’s trying to memorize my scent, my taste, and the way I feel wrapped around him.
“Such a good girl for me.’’ He sucks on the sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet, and my inner walls clench around him.
“I promise you, hellion, if you ever so much as think of taking another cock in my fucking cunt, I’ll haunt you from the below and make sure you don’t forget who the fuck you belong to. ’’
“James,’’ I gasp out, feeling his thrusting become more violent, more desperate.
“And while you’re out there, living your life, remember that no one else will make you feel the way I do. No one else will know every fucking inch of your body the way I do. In life or death, you’re bound to me.’’
He snaps his hips into me, then uses one hand to grip my cheeks and force me to look at him. My lips part at the impact, and he doesn’t waste the opportunity to spit in my mouth and then closes my mouth.
“Swallow, you little slut.’’
My throat bobs as I obey, and a wicked smirk tugs on his lips. “That’s my good girl.’’
I moan loudly, his harsh, quick movements causing the orgasm to build in the pit of my stomach, threatening to push me over the edge. He holds my jaw tightly between his fingers, staring at me.
“Who owns you, hellion?”
“You do.’’
He releases my chin enough to slap me, then grabs it again, his thrusting becoming a lot more frantic. The impact causes me to moan, the stinging sensation only getting me more worked up, and I’m struggling to prevent myself from coming right then and there.
“I didn’t fucking hear you. Who. Fucking. Owns. You?!”
“You do!” I scream. “You own me, James. All of me!”
“Yes, I fucking own your pretty body, your brilliant mind, and that filthy mouth of yours. Now, look at me and come on my cock. If this is the last time I’m fucking you, I want you to coat my cock in your cum.’’
My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I gasp, feeling him bottom out in me, and the orgasm hits me roughly, unlike any other. It doesn’t stop — it keeps coming out of me in waves, and it doesn’t help that James spills into me, prolonging my orgasm.
A small grin is on his face.
“I can die a happy man that I’ve made my girl squirt.’’
I pant, trying to catch my breath. My eyes flick down to see the mess I’ve created, and a coat of blush dusts over my cheeks.
James takes his sweet time before pulling out of me and helping me back to my feet.
I quickly pull my underwear back in its place and zip up my pants, unsure what to say or do.
“James,’’ I say, taking his hand in mine, but he snatches it right back.
“Don’t,’’ he snaps. “I don’t need your pity, Rosalie.’’
Hearing him use my full name, something he rarely does, and in that angry tone no less, makes my heart clench. He looks away from me, hiding his face and not letting me approach him. Yet again, the walls are back up, and I have no time to try and reason with him.
“You don’t believe me,’’ it dawns on me, and I step back. “You think I called the cops on you.’’
He doesn’t say much.
“James, look at me.’’
He doesn’t.
“Look at me, dammit!” I yell, frustrations boiling over.
He turns around, jaw clenched. He steps closer to me again, brows narrowed. There’s nothing on his face except irritation and deeply rooted hatred, one I never expected to be on the receiving end of.
“What is it, Rosalie?” He snaps right back. “Do you want me to tell you I suddenly believe in coincidences that have piled on top of each other? It doesn’t matter, even if it wasn’t you. I’m going to fucking die, and nothing you do or say can change that.’’
“No,’’ I whisper. “Please, just—’’
“Just, what?!” He screams in my face. “I’m the one who’s going to die, and you’re still trying to make this about you. Well, then, you wanted to use me for information, didn’t you? So, let me tell you exactly what you need to know.’’
“That’s not—’’
“The reason you were taken away from our foster family,’’ he interrupts, “is because you killed Willow. You pushed her into the lake and watched her fucking drown. That’s why you have that memory gap, Roselie. You killed Willow.’’