Page 15 of Executing Malice (Jefferson Rejects #4)

The bar through my clit is captured between his teeth and tugged, breaking off my protest. Turning it into a howl of pure agony and pleasure. It tears my back off the mattress. I scream as he tugs the bar again, harder. My thighs clamp uselessly around his head, but he doesn’t stop.

He wants this.

Wants my unwilling submission.

He wants the fight and resistance .

“I’m going to breed you,” he growls, voice thick with feral hunger, the filthy need to do just that. “And you’re going to take it and love it. I will make you need it. Want it. Want my cum. My baby. You’ll beg me to fill your belly.”

“No...” I whine, weak and pathetic. My body is already soaked at the very idea. Already willing, despite my protest. “Please, I can’t.”

He barks a chuckle. “Oh, but you will.”

The hands on my hips drift up beneath my top to cup my breasts.

teasing fingers brush and glide up and over my nipples.

Tease the bars he put there a handful of hours ago.

He matches his strokes to his flicking tongue, and I can’t find the sense to argue anymore.

I can’t think of anything, except the cliff edge as I tumble over.

The orgasm doesn’t break me.

It obliterates.

It destroys.

It steals every drop of my self-control as I try to scream and nothing comes out.

My entire body locks up as the pressure rips through me, caging and freeing me simultaneously.

Darkness takes me under a full heartbeat before I crash down to him still lapping at my seizing core like my release is the nectar of life.

Only when I’m no longer shuddering does he push up onto his knees between my quivering thighs.

“Open, Leila. ”

My legs stay open. Not from obedience, but because I can’t close them. I’m too weak and exhausted. My center is swollen and tender. I’m ready for sleep.

But he’s moving over me. I can’t see him beyond a vague outline, but the mattress shifts. His weight anchors over me. The pillow dips next to my side with the planting of his fist.

“What...?” I begin feebly, when the head of his cock strokes through the mess he’s created between my thighs. I stiffen. “Wait...”

The tip presses in.

I jerk with a gasp. My wrists strain uselessly against my restraints.

“N-no, please, not inside,” I whisper, throat hoarse.

He doesn’t answer.

He rocks forward instead. Just enough to push the swollen crown past the resistance. Stretching me. Filling me.

That’s when I feel it.

Metal. Cold, hard metal.

It snaps my eyes open wide in the darkness.

“What is that?”

His low chuckle brushes across my cheeks.

“It’s for you,” he rasps, circling his hips so the piercings drag along every raw, aching nerve ending inside me. “My Magic Cross. ”

I whimper as the pressure builds all over again in a rush that should have been impossible.

My hips lift to take more of him even while my brain screams it’s already too much.

He’s already too deep, and he’s not even fully in.

Yet, every tiny motion of his hips sends a fresh ripple of pleasure across my inner walls.

“Please don’t,” I plead, fully aware of the heels I’m digging into the mattress for leverage to hold myself open for him.

“Just the tip,” he lies, voice thick with hunger. “I just want to feel you.”

But I know that’s not enough. I can feel the tremors of control running through him. Feel the tension in his fingers as he holds me open and grinds the studded crown inside my cunt.

“No ... don’t...”

“You’re sucking me in,” he grits out. “You want me to stop? Then why the fuck is your cunt leaking for me?”

I shake my head. “Please...”

“Too late.”

He thrusts just an inch deeper. It’s enough to slip the second bar in. The pulse of him inside me is a heartbeat as beautiful as the groan he expels in my ear.

“Fuck!” he hisses through his teeth. “I’m going to cum in you and let your sweet, stretched hole keep every drop warm.”

His cock twitches, making the piercings quiver .

I can’t move as hot, wet cum floods me. As it fills me. It’s thick and endless. It drips around him and down my ass to soak the sheets. Still, he stays there until the last drop.

“Feel that?” he taunts directly into my ear. “That’s mine now. You’re mine.”

I feel the tears burn even as my mouth opens willingly beneath his bruising kiss.

I give no resistance as he stays braced over me, his cock corking his seed in place, making sure it does its job.

I let him kiss me in the soft darkness of my room now heavy with the scent of sweat and cum.

I let him untether my arms and drag me into his bare chest.

And I stay.

I curl into his warmth and strength, closing my eyes like my body has already submitted to him. It’s perfectly content lying in this stranger’s arms after ... everything.

Everything he just did.

Every plea he ignored.

It gives no shit that he’s in my bed, in my house in the dead of night. That he knows where I live. That he simply broke in and ... touched me.

Came inside me.

I know I could have been more forceful. I could have fought him. Screamed at him to stop .

But when his fingertips ghost along the arch of my spine to the curve of my ass, my response is to nuzzle the column of his throat and press closer against him.

“What have you done to me?” I whisper into the taut flesh.

Lips graze my temple, my cheek. The bristles I hadn’t noticed before scratch my skin.

I like it.

“What you wanted,” he murmurs into my ear.

“You broke into my house,” I mutter.

His fingers flex into the arches of my backside. “Can’t break into a place that doesn’t lock its fucking doors.”

There’s an edge to his low murmur that makes me think he’s annoyed that he could break in.

There’s irony in there somewhere, but I can’t think of it when I can feel myself beginning to slip.

“Close your eyes, Leila. Go back to sleep. I won’t let the nightmares touch you again.”

It shouldn’t, but the promise soothes the weight in my chest and I feel myself obeying without question.