Page 66 of Intrigue
I inhale him and feel myself go weak inside, my core clenching with sick need.
He all but pulls me to a room of the house, this part I notice just has some materials inside. The other rooms are empty.There’s a charred crate by the door when we reach. He pushes me against it roughly, then lets me go and balls his hands into fists, trembling with barely-leashed hunger. I see the blood first before the feral, bottomless starvation in his eyes.
“Fuck, I forgot I had no bed put in yet.”
“You’re bleeding again, Sandro—”
“I know but I fucking need you, Selene!” He growls, voice guttural, like a predator snapping its jaws. “You deserve so much better than an old couch or against a crate of some forgotten apartment.”
I have about a million things to tell him, all of which end with the fact that I hate him still, but after what I’ve just experienced, after all that I’ve just seen happen, I’m in no mood to say the words. Instead, I settle in the near awkward silence between us for a while before speaking again.
“What’s going through your mind right now, Sandro?”
He blanches. Flips a bloody hand through his hair and groans, a low, primal sound that vibrates through me. “All through the fight, I kept praying that nothing happened to you.”
“But you never pray.”
“That’s the thing, isn’t it? I never pray, and yet it’s the first thing I did.”
It takes me a while to fully grasp what he’s saying, and that when he says he prayed for my survival, he’s indirectly telling me I’ve become his addiction, his weakness, his fucking obsession carved into his bones.
And at this moment I know the right thing to say.
“I need you too, Sandro. Always have. Always will. Now take me.”
He pulls me to him, hard, before crushing his lips to mine, a brutal claim that steals my breath. Itaste blood, like rust, from the cut on his lower lip,cool and twisted with his heat. I grab a fistful of his hair, yank him closer, and kiss him back, desperate and filthy. The kiss is open-mouthed and raw, his tongue thrusting into me, twirling inside my mouth. It’s like he’s devoting himself to dragging me to the edge of an orgasm with just his lips and teeth.
But he breaks it long enough to rasp, voice thick with lust, “Your lips are the most obscenely delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Selene. Fuck, I could eat you alive.”
Then he’s back on my lips again, tugging and nipping, splitting me wide open for his taking, his tongue fucking my mouth like he’s starving for it. I wrap my hand around his neck to guide him, to pull him deeper, and Sandro hums his arousal into me, a low, dirty sound that makes my thighs clench.
“I need to be inside of you right this second!” he groans loudly, voice cracking with animal need. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t breathe without me.”
The animalistic urgency in his breathless kisses and the way he takes over, thrusting into my mouth, owning me like this is to be our very last kiss, ignites fear in me—fear and a sick, pulsing want. I can tell myself that I hate him, and I might mean it, but leaving him, leaving his kisses and touches, can never happen. I’m his prisoner, his junkie, his prey.
I am tied down to him, shackled by my own twisted desire.
He grabs me by my butt and lifts me, rough hands digging into my flesh, hooking himself between my open legs while standing. He works on his belt so quickly I have no time to anticipate, no time to brace for the violation I crave. Sandro nudges my panties to the side with a snarl and slides in, in one fell thrust, splitting me open. He grunts, a savage sound, as Imoan loudly at the impact, my body shuddering, and for a brief moment, we both go still, locked in the depravity of it.
He fills me up completely. He’s hard inside of me, so thick and unrelenting. This position has him reaching deep, so deep I feel him in my fucking soul, and I’m clawing at his shoulders and back when he begins moving, nails raking his skin, marking him as mine too.
It’s rough sex, nothing like we’ve done before, pure, unfiltered filth. He fucks me now without restraint, pounding into me like he’s trying to break me, and I meet his thrusts with the same raw, unhinged need, my hips rolling to take him deeper.
“Mmmm…oh…oh…Sandro…” I moan loudly, voice wrecked, dripping with submission.
He goes faster, panting, “We belong together, Selene, say it. Say you agree with me.”
I’m panting too, feeling the pure ecstasy ride through my body, a tidal wave of heat and shame, but even then, when the words come out, they’re not what he wants to hear. “I don’t want to just be your fucking toy anymore. I mean it. You tell me everything. No matter what!”
“Of course, baby. I promise. And you’re my goddamned soul!” he snarls, voice thick with possession. “My filthy, perfect ruin.”
I suck in a breath, choking on it. “You’re still a bastard.”
He tightens his hold on my hips, fingers bruising, and thrusts harder, slamming into me like he’s punishing me for it. I groan out, feeling like I might rip open, my body trembling on the edge of collapse. “You’re still here, baby. That’s right, you chose me… you can’t fucking quit me.”
He uses his teeth to graze my neck, biting down hard, and I burst, shattering around him, my cunt clenching him tight. “Yeah, I…I chose you. It’s you… it’s you, Sandro, you sick fuck.”
“That’s right,” he grunts, feral and triumphant. “You’re my greedy little whore for life!”
He goes still for a second, still panting, chest heaving, before thrusting one more time, deep and brutal, and releasing inside of me, hot and claiming. I’m still holding on to his neck, still trapping him to my body, my legs locked around him like I’ll never let go, and he takes care of my needs, grinding into me until I’m whimpering, spent.
“I love you, Selene,” he whispers, and then he sets me down, his hands lingering like he’s scared I’ll vanish. It’s the first time he’s said those words to me in a long time, and when I look in his eyes, I realize he means it, that it's like a curse he can’t escape. “I don’t expect you to say the same… not right now, anyway. But I promise you that I’m going to make you love me again, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you and I’m never backing out again. You’re mine to worship, to ruin, to keep.”
I feel relief wash over me, mingling with the filth of what we’ve just done. I smooth over my dress, go on tiptoes, and kiss the hell out of him, claiming him back, my tongue tangling with his in a messy, needy clash. I chose him, and that’s all that matters to me—our mutual descent into this twisted, unbreakable hell.
“Yes,” I murmur, resting my head on his chest. “I’m here.”I’ve loved you all along, dummy.
But I’m going to make him work to hear that part. On his knees.
THE END