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Story: Lamb (The Renegades #2)
ADRIAN
S ome monsters were born. Others were carefully curated.
I guess you could say I was a little of both.
But it wasn’t until this moment that I finally realized it.
Embraced it. As I cornered Marisela, reaching out and tugging her back by her hair when she tried to escape me.
I’d never been violent with her before. I’d never been more forceful than she needed me to be.
But I’d be lying if I said the way she was looking at me didn’t turn me on. Feed some deeper need I’d been doing my best to tamp down over the years, while I pretended to be better than the men around me. When, really, I was just like them. Just as dark. Just as depraved.
I could feel her hatred radiating off her skin, her disgust, and I… liked it. I’d been running from it for so long. Only to realize I needed it. I craved it. I fed off it.
I was so hocked up on the artificial adrenaline, on the natural adrenaline mixing with it and coursing through my veins, I didn’t feel the bite of Marisela’s nails digging into my skin.
I didn’t feel it when she lashed out and struck me across the face.
I didn’t feel the blood streaming down my nose, even though I knew it was there.
What I did feel was the throbbing urge to make her submit. To claim her before someone else could. Before he could fucking touch what was always meant to be mine. Before she let him.
And the rage. I felt that too.
The idea that she was choosing him over me awakened the most twisted parts of my psyche. The same insecurities that constantly whispered in my ear, telling me I’d never be good enough. I’d never be them .
And if I couldn’t be them… If I couldn’t be him , I’d be worse.
I shoved Marisela onto the bed, watching her bounce off the mattress before swatting at my chest. I grabbed her wrists in one hand while reaching for my zipper with the other, yanking it down, only to have her slip out of my hold and make a mad dash for the door.
She didn’t get more than two steps before I was tugging her towards me again. And then I was walking her backward until her spine was pressed up against the wall. Her teeth gnashing in my direction and her white nightgown stained with my blood.
“Let me go, Adrian,” she hissed, saliva splattering against my face along with the venom she plied it with. Both tasted as sinful as my little lamb looked squirming beneath me .
My lips tipped up until I was grinning so wide my cheeks hurt. Or at least they should. I still couldn’t feel them. “Never.”
I watched her eyes widen when she realized where my hand was going. What I’d taken from my pocket and was clutching between my thumb and forefinger.
Drugging her was the last thing I wanted to do to her tonight. Fucking her was the first. But she didn’t leave me much of a choice here. The noise was bound to draw someone’s attention and then we’d both be shit out of luck.
I lowered the tip to Marisela’s jugular, my grip too shaky for a quick administration, and she slapped my arm aside. Sending the syringe to the floor as I pressed more of my body weight against her much smaller frame.
I always knew my girl was a fighter. But so was I. I just never had a reason to fight her before. And now I had more than a reason. I had a need that was stronger than either of us.
She cursed my name, called me every insult she could think of as I lifted the flimsy material of her nightgown over her head, using it like a cloth hood to muffle her screams. Each time she sucked in air, more of the soft fabric shoved its way inside her mouth while my hand worked over her pussy.
Thrusting in and out until my palms were sticky with her cum, until the air smelled like her and I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I leveled my forearm with her throat, compressing her larynx while I fumbled with the opening in my boxers and pulled myself free .
I’d been waiting for this moment for so long it seemed wrong to rush it. But it also felt so right. Especially when I gave myself a few quick strokes, Marisela’s nails scraping away at layer after layer of skin as she tried to peel my arm back.
There was no moving me. Not unless I wanted to be moved. And right now, there was no place I would rather be than here. With this woman. Inside her.
I kicked her feet apart, spreading her thighs wide before I lined myself up and broke through that barrier with one, quick upward grind of my hips.
Marisela whimpered. I think I did too. I didn’t know whose sounds were whose.
Just that they were absolutely obscene. Unhinged and guttural.
And so was the pounding of flesh against flesh against solid wood.
The knob jiggling in the frame each time I slammed myself farther.
Deeper. Each time she arched her spine only to have me force it flush again.
I swiped Marisela’s nightgown off her face so I could look her in the eye. So she could look me in the eye as I continued to fuck her up against the door, where we’d finally landed.
It felt better than I thought it could. Better than I imagined.
Her cunt clamping around me like it knew I was meant to be there even if Marisela didn’t.
Even if no one else knew. I knew. I knew she was mine.
No matter whose last name she wore. She would always wear mine. In some fashion or another.
This wasn’t just sex. This was me refusing to let her go. This was me choosing us, even if she didn’t choose me .
My thrusts were becoming staggered, less refined and frenzied and more languid as the stress hormones seeped their way out of my pours and sweat began to trickle down my forehead. She felt too fucking good to keep going but I didn’t want to stop either. I couldn’t imagine stopping.
A thought that had my palm smacking against the space behind Marisela’s head as I braced our combined weight.
Her leg slung over my hip, where I was holding it in place, and her hair clinging to the dried tears on her face.
A dozen or so more long, angled strokes and I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t hold back. I couldn’t bring her there with me and I couldn’t keep myself from going there alone.
Because that was what this woman did to me. Turned me into… this. Not by making me into something I wasn’t. But by peeling back the exterior and revealing the monster that was always there. Allowing me to be who I always was beneath the surface.
Table of Contents
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