The Novel Free

Fourth a Lie





“Do you still want me?”

My eyebrows tugged low, shielding my incredulous stare. “What a stupid fucking question. We just covered that.”

“It’s not a stupid fucking question. You’re the one trying to convince me that you don’t.”

Anger had mutated to sexual frustration.

Despair had morphed to erotic stimulation.

I loved her for fuck’s sake.

Yet I couldn’t seem to protect her.

I gritted my teeth, answering her with clipped finality. “Whatever I feel is irrelevant. We’re done, Eleanor. I no longer have any interest in keeping you because we have no future. We have no future because you will die by his hand or mine, and I fucking refuse to hurt you anymore.”

“You’re hurting me right now. You’re acting as if you don’t know me. You seem to think I’m some girl who won’t stand up to you, won’t fight you, won’t fight for you.” Marching into me, she planted her hands on my overheated chest. “You can lie to my face, Sully, but you can’t change the truth.”

My eyes snapped closed at her proximity.

My cock bounced with its own pulse, desperate to thrust inside her, hijacking my entire nervous system with hunger.

Her fingers were tiny electrodes, shooting current into my heart, down my belly, into my legs. Her closeness was a furnace, searing my flesh, making me sweat pure sin.

Her breath caught as my hands slammed over hers, digging her fingers deeper into my chest. My hips rocked, nudging my cock against her belly.

She moaned.

My eyes shot wide.

Our fight reached critical cataclysm.

Panting breathlessly, she dug her nails into my pecs. Her smoky eyes turned hazy, drunk and drugged on the potent, powerful thirst between us. “Are you forgetting Euphoria?”

Her voice did painful things to me, dangerous things.

“Did you not feel what I did?” She pressed her nails deeper, trying to claw out my angry, aggravated heart.

My skin, tight and tingly with passion, puckered beneath her touch, begging for more.

“You’re trying to tell me you don’t feel that?” She dared kiss one of my cuts, lick at my wounds, make me lose every shred of control I had left. “I touch your body, but you feel it in your heart, Sully. I see it in your eyes. I sense it in my soul. If you want to lie, by all means. But don’t expect me to believe—”

I broke.

Seizing her from the floor, I stalked toward the vanity, spun her around, and folded her over the hard marble. “I suggest you hold on.” Grabbing her hands, I planted them firmly on either side of the bowl. “I’m not going to be gentle.”

 

 

Chapter Six

MY HEART BOLTED LIKE a rabbit, darting and weaving, seeking a hole to hide in.

I looked at him in the mirror behind me.

Our eyes snagged and a cloak of dark depravity consumed him.

Instinct blared to run.

Basic survival said I would not like what was about to happen.

But I was trapped, turned on, and tangibly consumed by hate and love.

With a snarl, he jerked my hips back, kicked my legs apart, and ran his fingers from my clit, over my dripping entrance, to my crack and asshole.

I flinched as he pushed his finger against the tight ring of muscle.

I gasped as his cock found my pussy.

I screamed as he thrust both unforgivingly inside me.

His cock and his finger, claiming me two ways, ensuring he scrambled me, controlled me, punished me.

My knees buckled, digging my hipbones into the vanity as he mounted me without apology.

His hungry grunts and barbaric thrusts made me swell with my previously denied climax. My imprisonment and his nastiness only added gasoline to the fire he’d struck inside.

I billowed with it.

Orange and red and yellow.

I burned with it as he fucked me as if I was every nightmare he’d ever had.

He was nasty and revengeful.

He covered up his pain with blustering malice.

But I didn’t care.

I surrendered to his spite because I found every facet of this man utterly irresistible. He was a weapon of lust even while my body screamed at me to run.

To run and come.

To come and run.

To give in.

My legs spread wider.

He snarled as his cock hit the top of my pussy, locking us together in carnal copulation. His finger in my ass only made his invasion tighter, deeper, dancing on the border of pleasure and pure pain.

My body switched from my ownership to his.

His touch filled me, defiled me, and sullied me in every way possible.

I rose on my tiptoes as he claimed me with every lash of his rage. His other hand grabbed my breast, kneading me, pinching my nipple, attacking me until I writhed in his hold.

“Please, Sully...God, please.” My vision turned hazy as I looked at him in the mirror—watched the way he pawed me, flushed at the wildness he’d conjured in me.

All I wanted, all I needed was to be thoroughly fucked by this man.

A man who had no control over his actions. A man thoroughly hollowed out by an animal holocaust.

“Fuck...fuck!” He tore his finger from my ass and wrapped his hand around my nape, keeping my head facing the mirror, our eyes trapped on each other.

We watched each other fuck.

We learned how ugly we were, how hungry we were, how utterly desperate to convince ourselves that life would continue if we weren’t together.

And we failed.

Because we no longer needed linguistics or lyrics to share our love, it was there.

The brightest flame, the loudest scream, the darkest disease imaginable.

My hands slipped on the vanity, sending me forward while his fingers around the back of my neck dragged me upright.

He sank every inch within me, clamping his fingers on my hip, holding me tight as he drove into me again.

And again.

He pulled me back until my spine bent and my breasts jutted forward. He kept my stare as he unsheathed his teeth and sank them piercingly into my throat.

I cried out as he nuzzled me, bit me, confused lust with loathing and handled me with peril instead of protection.

My legs buckled as he dragged me backward, sinking all he had to give inside me, rubbing his balls on my clit, keeping me pressed on the vanity and contorted in his hold.

His body pumped volcanic heat all while our skin still held icy droplets from our shower. His hair dripped onto my back. My hair dripped into the sink.

His tongue licked my neck, long possessive laps, running over the punctures from his teeth. His pupils blazed an otherworldly blue, glowing with dangerous curses and frostbitten rancour.

“Loving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I hate it. I curse it.” He bit me again. “I curse you.”

I shivered at how dark his voice was—how dismal and destroyed.

The longer he fucked me, the more his eyes darkened until they no longer held blue, just shadows. Shadow-black curses and cusses, a dungeon trapping his kindness and making him mean.

“Sully, I—”

“Don’t.” He ran his nose over my wet hair, his eyes snapping closed. Misery etched his features, blending with frenzied ferocity. “You will let me fuck you. You owe me this. You owe me your soul, seeing as you fucking stole mine.”

He rutted into me with single-minded determination.

My pain was his, and his was mine.
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