Calm? He was frantic with the need to fuck her. There would be nothing calm about this experience. Calm was for loving moments, not for fucking against walls and burning himself inside someone.
“I want you as long as you can hold off. I want you to fuck me slowly, mean it. Every fucking inch, just like we did at my apartment.”
He licked his lips again at her words as he threw his coat on the floor, remembering the connection, the lust, the love combined with magnificent displays of adoration as he rammed himself into her. She reached around to undo her dress, unzipping the material leisurely and writhing her divine body backwards as she did so.
“My pace, my decisions. And you tell me you love me. You tell me over and over again until we both believe it.” The dress skimmed to the floor, revealing nothing beneath it. Nothing. She was gloriously bare apart from her gold necklace and long heeled boots. He could have come simply watching her move. Instead, he nodded and began undoing his waistcoat, taking a step towards her as she gracefully deposited herself on the chaise then opened her legs to wait for him. “All of it off, Pascal. I want to see all of you.” He could hardly contain the need to rip the Italian silk from his body as he tugged at his shirt and then began undoing his belt. Her fingers lingered above her cunt, tempting him evermore as she quietly started to tease herself. Sweet digits dipped inaudibly, readying her for what was to come. By the time he was undressed and grabbing his own cock for some semblance of relief, she already had two fingers inside herself, her moans starting to echo in the room.
Slick, wet sounds littered the air as she sunk another inside, all the time keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his. They grew wider as she fucked herself slowly, sparkling with delight at the oncoming bliss she would soon deliver to herself. He walked forward again, dropping to his knees and stroking himself as he watched on. There was such majesty in her hands, such hope there waiting for him to embrace them and let her hold him for eternity.
“I love you,” he murmured, still too intent on the ache in his balls to let the sentiment resonate, but knowing that she wanted it from him. She needed such things, as he did with her.
She smiled and mewled again as her thighs began to tremble. Once, twice, kicking her legs wider to elongate the sensation and give herself better access.
“Why did you shoot him?” she asked, somehow managing to keep her voice level as she relaxed her head back and sighed.
Her left hand reached forward for him, wiggling her fingers as she did and asking for his mouth. He was more than accepting, ready to bow down and deliver anything she required of him except for speech. She could use him for anything, but they would not talk about this. Not now. Now was for fucking, joining, becoming whole in the middle of an unruly world. He was hers to use as long as she offered sustenance, and what sustenance it was. Sweet, nectar filled and divine as the first lick of liquid sank down his throat. Such a taste was worthy of Gods as he continued to pump his cock beneath her. Beneath her. Her. She was his reason now. He’d fuck the life back into her, give her the damn stars if she asked for them. He knew, in that moment as her hand tightened around his hair, that he would give his life if she asked. The cuff she’d left in Alexander’s apartment did not need to be worn for him to see it, or feel its effect on his heart. She was buried in there, no longer swirling about as an irritation he could not control. She was simply lodged there as a welcome addition to his own.
“Why, Pascal? I want the truth.”
He sucked the last of her dry as she ripped at the back of his head, her nails dragging along his skin as her whole body trembled with anticipation. She let go of his cock to brace her legs wider as she tried to close her body around him. Not yet. They would do that together when he was so far inside her she would scream his name and beg for the life they could create together. They would entwine their souls with each other and finish this confusion. He would give her that now, let her have every part of him and tear him open if she chose to. “Tell me. I want the truth before I come,” she panted, scratching at his neck and trying to haul his body weight up. He smiled into her cunt, licking it repeatedly and prolonging her agony.
“Now.”
She would come regardless of what she wanted. She would come when he made her, and she would tremble with need for him to be inside her. She would beg for it. His mouth roamed again, his tongue diving inside and probing, drinking down every last drop until she quivered and moaned again and again.
Her hand suddenly yanked on his hair so furiously it took him by surprise, knocking his weight to the left and sending him rolling to the floor beneath her as she straddled him.
“I want my fucking truth,” she snarled, slapping his face harshly as she did. The sensation instantly flustered his mind, breaking the last shred of control he was languishing within and easing the moment to one of silence. He stared up at her, his mouth hovering around words that were not for this time, but ones that she asked for nonetheless. “Fucking tell me.”
Such a beautiful picture she was. Her face was angry and cold, her mouth gritted and determined to get her answers. Those eyes of hers were steeling her into the creature he had not witnessed when they’d first met. Alexander lived in her eyes. He was there, shining back at him. Radiant and harsh, irritably concerned with matters of the heart and healing those they cared for. Loved. He lost the battle to not tell her the truth the moment she ground herself onto his cock and moved her fingers back to teasing herself again without remorse. He frowned. He would not be walking out of this room without an orgasm of his own this time.
“Andreas raped and violated Helena,” he eventually replied, quietly, remembering the bruises on the young Helena’s face and reaching for Lilah’s. “He abused her without consent, my love. She required help to escape his hold over her.”
He could still see her now, sitting there in that small bar in Frankfurt every Tuesday, weeping into her wine and looking inexplicably lost. She had been so ill-fated, and yet she was so beautiful in her tears, engagingly so, and eventually he had simply asked her if he could help out of some moral obligation that had erupted inside him. Young and foolish maybe, but it had been an honest response to need. “I helped.”
Lilah’s face slowly grew into a small smile above him, just a quiet offering of understanding, one he assumed she was pleased about. It resonated in places he had not felt for some time. She appeared proud. Whether she was proud of him for admitting it or for committing the act, he was not sure. Either answer was more relevant to his heart than he could have imagined. It glowed inside him, beating more furiously than it had before and yet feeling calmer than possible in its thundered bounce. Not even Alexander knew about this. His first kill, and yet another reason for the world he’d created.
“I love you,” she said, focusing all of that love into his eyes to ensure he understood it.
He nodded slowly in reply. He did understand. He could feel it all now he’d given her something he’d given no other. It was her secret to have, to hold, to care for or destroy him with should she choose.
His fingers crawled along her jaw, increasing the pressure until she could comprehend that there was no more he would hide from her. She would ask and he would answer. In this small room in the back of an old art shop, she had garnered more from him than any other would. An act of murder for decency’s sake, committed out of sentiment, perhaps even kindness. It wasn’t something he had done since. He simply killed under threat now, or for monetary gain.
He smiled, ridding himself of murderous thoughts and wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside her, yet still trying to languish in these seconds of surrender without interruption. And so they remained still, watching each other, kindred spirits who would no longer deny the inevitability of their union. They would merge and become complete. He would let her lead, ensure she did so, give her his all and damn the consequences. She would have all of him.
An eternity seemed to pass before she moved and got to her feet. She beckoned him up with he
r and backed herself up to a wall, widening her legs again and reaching for his ass to pull him close.
“It’s done now,” she whispered, digging those nails in again and flexing her grip. “Time for you to fuck. Excessively. ”
Indeed it was. He smirked at her errant language, adoring her all the more for it, and lowered himself to drag his tongue up her body, wanting to worship every inch of her skin, needing to. She moaned aloud and gave no resistance. She let him wander her body with his lips wherever he chose—her thighs, the curve of her ass, the contours of her stomach. The lines of her skin were like an ointment for the bruises inside him, healing the disgust and allowing him to feel needed in a way that defied normal lust. It was a sensation deep within his core. It abandoned filth and recklessness yet somehow connected the two, joining them into a blur of harmony. She mewled, writhing at his mouth’s soft ambling and asking for the pressure she craved. She could have that, too. He bit into her hipbone, relishing the shriek of pain that sounded in the room. Good. He might love her, but he would not be gentle with her. She knew him too well for that. She had asked for this, trained for it, brought it forth and offered him sanctuary within it. She would take it all and endure.
The small nipping bites became reckless grabs at her skin with little care, almost tearing flesh from bone as her hands began to hang on for support.
“I love you.” It fell from his lips as he reached her breasts, wrapping his tongue around the nipple the moment he’d got the words out. She panted again, increasing her hold on him until she left no room for manoeuvre.
“Just fuck me. Inside. Now,” she spat out, growling her own need into his neck and clawing her nails once more into his scars. Her scars.
Now was worthy. Now was perfection. He wasted no time in lifting her leg and forcing her back to the wall again, ready to fuck for his life’s worth. The pictures that hung behind her clattered against the dark wall, one of them crashing to the ground in the frenzy as she swiped her hand out for something to hold on to. There was nothing but him, and she could hold on or not. She could crumble onto the floor if she chose and he’d still fuck her there.
More things crashed as he smiled into her neck and bit again, lifting her other leg as he did and nudging his cock onto her, rubbing it back and forth to prolong his own agony. Sweet, sugary agony. It overrode the need to bury himself inside for a few minutes more. The ache made his legs quiver, his muscles fire and his heart rate triple. The chase was normally far more consuming than the event, but this time it would not be so, had never really been so with Lilah. Her need for him sent shivers of pain shooting up his spine again as she, too, bit into skin, grabbing and grasping, growling for the honeyed release they both craved. He shoved, again and again, building the tension and rocking his cock hard against her, creating a rhythm that would have her almost there the moment he sank inside. He would not last. He was nearly ready to explode simply from the effect on his heart. They would do that another time. They would find the time for love and adoration, ponder its merits for hours on end at some point in the future, but it would not be here in this dusty room. It would be in Rome.
Now was for fucking true and deep.
She moved quietly, and he felt her smile grow into his neck as he groaned at the sensation and let her do as she pleased. She hovered on him, her cunt slowly grasping at the tip of his cock as she held herself up on his shoulders and began gently letting herself glide down onto him. He instantly closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel the woman he loved owning every inch of him. Clamping him, riding him, possessing each and every inch of him with her body and mind. She grabbed at his chin somehow, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding his face towards her.
“Look at me,” she said. “I want to see you when you come. I want you to see me.” She knew it all. She could see inside him, stare into his soul and pull whatever she wanted from him. His eyes focused on her grey ones as she eased the rest of herself onto him and finally parted her mouth at the depth. “Fuck me,” she whispered, swiping her tongue out at him and then biting into her own lip. “Let me take it from you.”
He needed no other instruction. He was willing, able, and ready to give it all away. He forged himself away from her and then fucked back in. He drove so deep he pushed her up the wall and sent another picture crashing to the ground, then steadied himself and did it again, never once removing the eye contact. She did not moan at the force. She whimpered beautifully and simply grabbed tighter, asking him for more than he would normally give, beckoning it. She was almost begging for it with those pearlescent eyes of hers.
He forged again and again, fucking like a maniac. No pleasantries. No thought for how much it hurt or what the consequences might be. He fucked with abandon, yet with the greatest of care because she asked, ramming himself in harder with every thrust until she squealed and sunk her claws in further. So he continued fucking himself into her. Into her skin, her mind, her soul. He fucked as though it was their first time together so he could imprint himself into her further.
“Weak,” she snarled out, her temper allowing her the anger she needed to endure the pain. He slammed her back into the wall again, sensing the thud of bone and smiling at its crack, then delving in again and turning her to drop onto the chaise longue with little accuracy. Fucking weak. He’d show her weak. She’d feel his weakness for months. It would burn her cunt and drive her mad with fear for what was to come next.
“Bitch,” he growled out, flipping her backside over as she scrabbled for purchase until she was on her knees, offering up her cunt for more punishment. He dipped and drew his tongue through her, instantly tasting traces of his pre come mingling with hers. Divine.
“We come together,” she shouted, pushing herself back onto his face as she lifted her leg, kicked him away, and then turned to face him again. “Watching each other.”
She dragged him effortlessly up her body, somehow finding enough strength to do so, or maybe he just followed wherever she led. He did not fucking care as he crawled over her body and pushed her thighs wider, desperate to get back inside and deliver his come. Fucking woman. How he hated her, loved her, needed every breath that left her lungs as if it were his own. He slammed back in, once more sending her shifting upwards to try to get away from the depth of his drives. He braced a hand on her shoulder, holding her exactly where he wanted her so she could feel every damn inch of what she pulled from him. He needed her to revel in the glory of such things with him.
She whimpered again then panted as she squirmed to accommodate his thrusts. “I can’t–”
“You fucking can,” he cut in, bruising her with the next plunge and watching her eyes flutter away from him, probably retreating to a place she felt safe. One where she could dismiss the pain and anger. Endure him in her own way. No. Absolutely not. He eased himself back a little. “Lilah, I love you. You want me. I am here. Now. With you.” She opened her eyes again, gazing into his depths and trying to relax her breathing. “This is the man you crave, hmm? Take him. Convince me you are ready for him.”
He felt the come rise within him as she stared and nodded slowly. He felt it rise as it had only ever done for Alexander as he rocked in and out of her. It usually weakened his soul to feel such things as her eyes bored in, yet this time there was no weakness, only strength, an honour of sorts. Perhaps some spiritual connection he hadn’t previously known. It was less primal, more defined in its gradual need for acceptance. It rose from his heart and burned through to his cock. He felt it charging its way through veins and blood as she wrapped her legs around his back again and drew his face towards hers. He felt it power and surge through his love for her, understood its ramifications and cared not for them. It would be.
She would be.
“More then,” she whispered, tilting herself into him again and kissing him quietly. “As much as you’ve got.” It would not be as much as he had. This was neither the time nor the place for such anarchy, but he powered in again regardless, rev
elling in her groans and howls as he plundered them both to completion.
He held her down and fucked as she clung onto his cheeks, never once trying to get away from his eyes nor allowing herself to disappear again. She endured, and she did so with grace and dignity as he began to fuck with abandon. No thought other than love and lust. No restraint as his cock raged on. Care somehow tried to hold firm amidst the carnage he was creating for them both. Sweating limbs and panted breaths. Slippery skin, sliding and grating with every shove and grab. She howled again as a wolf calling him home, howled loud enough that she trembled beneath him and clamped so tightly his balls damn near exploded at the sensation. His guts clenched, the ache driving him onwards to that final echelon of peace. Their mouths tangled amidst each-other’s breaths, nipping and licking for finality as he finally felt her still so completely it rendered him near incoherent with the need to fill her.
Five more seconds and he was with her, feeling his come break through him and tear his heart open as it did so. Aching and pain turned to bliss and hopefulness as he poured into her. Moments lost in eyes so grey he wished the clouds would forever cover the sky above them. There was tranquillity in that haze. They both knew it, were both feeling it in those minutes that raced by all too quickly, snatching precious time from them as they did. He shoved in again, rammed himself home and watched her pupils dilate further, felt her grab on tighter and rip new holes in his skin. They should stay there and languish in the ceaseless shadow of consent. Rent the fucking room for an eternity to do it all again, slower, and with less restriction. Roll around on the floor, fuck endlessly, heal, shower, and then continue to fuck for hours more.
Love.
He sighed above her and rested his head on her shoulder, breathing deeper than he had for most of his life. Relishing the groan that continued to ride his body as her hands stroked and embraced his frame. Gentle fingers, caressing and warming. Reminding him of worth, obligation, trust, truth—all things he’d never dared to dream of nor hope for. And yet here she was. One small woman. A stunning creature of hope and courage. Daring him to adore her and give her the world, to give them both a chance. A chance he would grab with both hands and devour.
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