Page 33 of His to Fear
“I can call the police on you after you did,” I breathe, a whimper escaping me when his fingers circle the fabric of my shirt, nipples tickling.
“You can, but you won’t.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re enjoying this,” he whispers against my ear, biting my earlobe.
His hand travels lower, reaching the hem of my pants. Without being able to do anything about it, I grind against it, seeking pleasure.
“I’m sure you’re already wet, little fangs.”
I purse my lips.
I don’t stop him when he crouches down and removes my pants and panties, nor do I stop him when he lifts me so my legs straddle his waist, my back still pushed against the window.
“I really should call the cops. This is insane.”
“Perhaps. But it’sourinsanity.” His fingers brush over my clit, forcing a whimper out of me. “And you know I would never hurt you.”
Somewhere deep inside, I know the truth.
He pushes a finger inside me, stretching me open and preparing me for him.
“Those people I ended were very bad people.”
A moan escapes me. It shouldn’t, considering our conversation.
Lining himself up against me, he locks eye contact with me. He must see the approval in my gaze, because it’s not long until he buries himself deep inside.
“Does that even matter?” I breathe out.
He’s slick against me, yet still oddly gentle when he lets me adjust to his overwhelming size. This man is thick and big, and he’s splitting me open from the inside out. He knows it, too.
“Of course it matters.”Thrust. “The man in the circus tried to hurt you. For that, he suffered. I didn’t regret it in the least when I saw his phone full of pictures of young women.”
He slides in and out of me, hands holding my body weight up by my ass. I throw my head back, hitting the window. My back is slick against the glass, and I refuse to look back, fear keeping me paralyzed.
“The farmer’s someone I’ve been looking for for a very long time. A fraud. Someone posing as a parent but is anything but.”
He grits out his last words, growing rougher in his thrusting. I don’t complain, listening intently to whatever it is he’s sharing with me. It makes my heart ache like no other.
“One of my foster parents growing up who neglected me. I got my revenge.”
My heart aches for this unknown man.
“I know you feel it, too. This connection between us.” Another thrust, but there’s a pleading expression on his face, begging me to listen. “I didn’t intend on meeting you, but it just happened, and I fucking snapped. But I will leave, if that’s what you want.”
My heart soars and aches at the mere thought of that, and I shake my head without a second’s hesitation. I know that I should take a moment to think about it all, but my heart already knows the truth.
“You sparked something to life within me,” I mutter, heart clenching at the confession.
Instead of fucking me, he starts making love to me. Slow andcareful against the glass window. Our breaths intermingle, our clammy bodies plastered against each other’s, and my back against the glass.
The overwhelming sensation of it filters through me, making me almost cry. This is absolute insanity, but like he said, it’sourinsanity.
“This will lead to whatever it leads to, but live in the moment with me. Embrace life.” His voice is pleading. I’ve never had a man beg me before.
I bite my lip, suddenly doing something reckless and capturing his lips in mine, until our mouths and tongues tangle with each other in grazes of teeth. I kiss him like my life depends on it, and he fucks me like I’m the sole reason for his existence.
We both come simultaneously, pleasure wracking havoc until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
“Mine,” he growls. Something possessive is taking over his being that makes my heart soar.
“Yours. But if you dare hurt me, I’ll cut off your cock.”
He smirks at me. “Deal.”