“Scared, like I don’t know myself anymore. That you won’t like me this way.”
He nodded again like he already knew this, and cupped my face.
I turned my cheek into his dirty, bloody palm, not caring it was adding to my filthy face.
“Your imperfections make you perfect, Brat. You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. That darkness you’ve come to know…it has you feeling overwhelmed, but I promise you’re not alone. I won’t ever let you go.”
Hadn’t he told me he wasn’t good at talkin? Every time he opened his mouth and said somethin meaningful, I fell for him a little more.
“Grimm. You are…”
“I’m basically a king, so by default, you’re a queen."
“I was gonna say you’re a goddamn idiot for not makin a move sooner than this. You’ve always been my dark, regal reaper,” I teased, pulling his mouth down to mine.
He eagerly obliged, and I selfishly demanded more, attacking his mouth with mine, but he pulled away once again, leavin me keyed up with no relief—not to mention pissed off.
“I know you ain’t celibate. I’ve heard you plenty. I can feel your dick is hard, so I know it’s not me in general. So why can’t you touch me?”
He gave me an inexpressive look and then turned away. “I want you to be sure,” was his answer. I was seconds away from imploding.
“The men with the snake tattoos. How many?”
Now I was glad he couldn’t see my facial expression when he asked that.
This was the question I was waitin on, the one I knew he’d eventually figure out. I reckoned that was where’d he’d gone off to.
He went to a bright orange duffel bag that must’ve recently been placed on the foamy bed, and unzipped it.
I could have pretended I didn’t hear the question, or played stupid, but by the anger suddenly rollin off him in waves, he already knew, and just wanted me to verify it.
“He told me before I dropped him down an elevator shaft,” he explained, responding to my silent thought.
I wanted him to know solely because I knew how this was goin to go. So I told the truth—the whole truth, and nothin but the truth, because that’s what my Grimm wanted, and I needed to tell someone.
“It started with Vitus, but he didn’t force me. I know that makes me sound like a cheap whore, but I thought it’d be over with if I just gave him what he wanted. Then his dad came in. His…uncle went next. The cousin.”
I swallowed and looked down at the faded tile, feeling my stomach roll as I recounted it all inside my head. I took in a lungful of air and rushed through the next part.
“They took turns fuckin me in the ass while another one had his way with me in the front.
“I was held up between them, or on my side on that damn bed. I begged them to stop, and Arlen never begs. Arlen was strong and they took her away from me for no fuckin reason!
“They didn’t care about the blood, or how bad it hurt, and Noah just stood there watchin so he could make good on his word, of all things.”
“Why did they have to do that to me? Why am I the one who feels ashamed and dirty for what those sick assholes did?” I was sobbin into his chest by time I was done. He had his bloody arms around me and stood there like an immovable force, letting me get it all out of my system.
“Sorry I’m such a mess.” I gave him a sheepish smile when I dared look back at him again.
“Don’t ever apologize for this, Brat. If you can’t cry on my bloody shoulder, what am I good for?” he joked.
I wondered if he knew he was the sole reason I was hangin on. He was supposed to be dead inside, yet here he was, making me feel alive.
He used his tongue and swiped a loose tear right off my face, and then stuck it in my mouth. I tasted my own filth and couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with it. He bit down on the tip, not lettin up until I whimpered.
“What do you need from me, Brat?”
“I’m tired of seein their faces. I just want you to erase it. Make me feel better.”
Taking my left leg, he hooked it over his hip and pressed his hard cock into my apex.
“This?”
“Yes,” I groaned on a loose breath, grabbing his hips. I didn’t give a damn where we were, that we had both just killed less than an hour ago, or that we were both coated in blood. Who was goin to judge us that mattered? If someone felt any type of way, that was their own damn problem.
My moral compass had begun to glitch. I couldn’t find it in myself to give a damn about that, either. And was that really a bad thing?
Grimm tore away from me and lifted his shirt over his head, droppin it to the floor. My heart did some weird twist in my chest, and heat flared in my lower stomach as it erupted with flutterin.
His tattooed body was flawless. Every bump and ridge interconnected like a secret pathway. I took a step towards him, doing the same thing he’d done with my tank top, standing in front of him in nothing but my black bra and pants.
He undid the top button of his jeans, still moving away. As if there were an invisible choker wrapped around my neck, he became the master of my body, pulling me towards him with silent command.
“You’re not ready for my kind of fucking, so you’re going to have to sit your pretty ass on my lap and fuck me.”
Oh, lawd. Between my legs clenched. I felt myself grow wet from his words full of dark promise of what would come later. I hadn’t been with anyone aside from the pool boy and the men who’d used me.
I shook my head as if to free them from it. They wouldn’t steal this from me; this choice was all my own. I wanted to give myself to this wicked man and let him do whatever he wanted to me.
He was more than likely right, though. I’d never been with a man like him. I responded to his promise by placing my hands on his solid chest and pushing him down on the bed. The duffel bag fell to the floor.
The devilish smile he graced me with made me want to repeat the move ten times more.
I worked my pants down that had become like a second skin since being wet, taking my underwear with them.
His eyes tracked over the fairy tattoo that spread down to where dark curls had begun to grow back due to me not havin a razor.
“I’m killing whoever did that,” he said with no hint of humor. “You’re beautiful, Brat.” He reached for me, running his hands down my sides, around to the back of my thighs, cautious of the healin skin. “And that is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
He let me go, only to lower his jeans down, revealing a pair of black briefs. The outline of his cock was painfully obvious, and without a hint of shame, he pulled it out.
He was rock solid, tan just like rest of him, and more than a lil impressive. I peered up at him through half-mast lids.
I knew this was it, sealing the deal between us for good, and so did he. This wouldn’t be a quick ‘out of our system’ spin cycle fuck.
His eyes were dark, like raven wings.
They were the type of darkness that wasn't dark. They were my rapture. There was no promise of dawn, only an endless midnight sky.
The danger held within them only allured me all the more, fanning a slow-burning desire and turning that spark between us into raging hellfire. I wanted him to burn me from the inside out and spread his ashes on my skin.
Straddling his lap, I gripped one shoulder with one hand and his smooth cock with the other, circling the head with my thumb.
“I got you.” He gripped my hips, ensuring I wouldn’t fall when I let his shoulder go.
“Grimm,” I barely whispered, hovering over his tip. My hands gripped him harder than necessary as I fought against my paranoia. This was my reaper. He wouldn’t use me like those men had. Grimm was my safety net. I had to get them out of my fuckin system.
“You don’t have to do—goddamnn, Brat,” he amended in a growly voice.
I took him inside me to the hilt, desperate to feel anything other than them.
I moaned lo
udly without embarrassment. He felt perfect; this burn was welcome. The pleasure and the pain had me clenching around him involuntarily.
He filled me entirely, stretching me as his cock slowly became embraced by my walls. I knew this wasn’t his M.O. Grimm wanted control. I imagined he needed it to deal with the things that went on inside his own head. But he willingly sat there and gave it to me—somethin I didn’t need.
I rolled my hips, tryna get a feel for this, and he flexed his hands. I did it again, watchin his face this time, and he glared slightly. His body was all tensed up, like iron.
“I’m not the kinda man you want to tease with your pussy. Fuck me hard, or I’ll fuck you harder, and by time I’m done, you won’t be able to walk in a straight line. Every crevice of your sexy ass body will be dripping with sweat, and you won’t be able to remember your name because you were too busy screaming mine.”
He gripped the back of my neck, slamming his mouth over mine, and lifted his hips, thrusting into me.
He bit down on my lower lip so hard he broke the skin. I cried out, and he slipped his tongue in.
His other hand was now firmly graspin my ass, guiding me up and down on his dick. He helped me find a rhythm, easing all the way up when I took over.
He caressed my back, ran his hands over my sides, and roughly took hold of my breasts—all as I rode him. The sounds comin from my mouth were unrecognizable.
“Harder,” he demanded, with no change in his vocal inflection. With him soundin as normal as he always did, aside from his harsh grip, I thought I may have been goin about this the wrong way.
I straddled him a little more, taking him to the hilt every time I slid up then back down on his slickened cock. It felt too good. He felt so good it hurt.
He suddenly leaned back so he could watch me, loosely resting his palms back on my hips.
His eyes were saturated with raw desire, and it was all for me. I worked him faster, my breath coming in short puffs. The shitty bed was swayin in place, solely supported by the wall where paint-chips were steadily fallin away.
“That’s it,” he praised, his tone a lil more gravelly. “Fuck me, Brat. Use me. Take what you need.”
As if those were the words I’d needed to hear, that’s exactly what I did. Wrappin my arms around his neck, I rode him—hard.
Every moan, gasped breath, and whisper of his name from my mouth, and every occasional groan from him were like a balm. The way he was lookin at me, though, that was the salve—the numbing serum on scars invisible to the naked eye.
I felt whole, connected to him entirely—far beyond the physical.
Cupping his jaw, I traced the inverted cross beneath his eye. I wanted to commit everything about this moment, about him, to memory. His silky soft hair wasn’t perfectly brushed back; he had growth to his beard, making him look more intense and rugged.
He smelled as good as he always did—he smelled of death. I felt the dried blood on his hands, saw the crimson stains on his face. I could still see his scythe ruthlessly slicing up the center of that man’s stomach, smooth as butter, in my mind’s clear lil eye.
Grimm was filthy, wicked down to his core, but he was the kind of filthy you wanted coating every fiber of your being, straight down to your bare bones. He used his bloody hands to keep me together when I wanted to break. He let me use his body to purge my heavy soul.
I wanted—needed—him to come inside me, needed him to replace everything those men took from me.
“Grimm,” I moaned in his ear, trailing kisses down his neck. “Can you hurt me?”
“Give me your eyes.” He tangled a hand in my hair and pulled so I was looking at him fully. “Now tell me what you want.”
He made it impossible to glance away. I forced my lungs to constrict and retract. “I want you to hurt me.” My voice was so clear, so steady in comparison to how I felt right then, like a tickin bomb that wouldn’t be diffused unless it detonated. And only he could disarm me.
“I can make it hurt very, very fucking good, Brat.” He pulled out and flipped us around, not so gently easin me down so the foamy mattress cushioned my back. Being on top of him was great, but him standing above me between my parted legs made me feel twice as powerful.
It was all in his eyes. If I told this man to get down and eat me, I knew he’d have every inch of his silken tongue inside my pussy.
“You sure you want this?” He asked the question as a means to give me a warning.
“I need it.”
“I’ll go easy this time.”
I wanted to tell him I didn’t want easy, but when my mouth opened, a gasp spilled out. He slammed inside me, purposely placin his hands on the raw, tender flesh of my thighs.
There were no pretenses after that. He squeezed, adding pressure, makin the sore skin feel like it was on fire. I whimpered, liftin my hips to take him deeper. His cock hit somethin inside me I wasn’t aware existed.
“More,” I demanded.
He watched me closely and dug the pads of his fingers into the same spot, beginning to knead the flesh. It did hurt, in the best fuckin way possible. I bit the corner of my lower lip, and my pussy clenched around his cock.
“Too fucking tight,” I heard him say beneath his breath, picking up his pace.
The bed sounded like it was going to give out at any second. I felt a familiar pressure rapidly building, and reached for him. He instantly lurched down, giving me his tongue.
Meeting his solid thrusts took stamina I didn’t have, so I attempted to take him deeper inside me, clawing his back and pulling him forward. I wanted him to tear me open and make me bleed.
I never got to ask that of him. He knew what was about to occur before I did. I’m certain it was him who made it happen.
“Damn Brat, you’re gonna come,” his gravelly voice nearly groaned. He moved to my neck, suckling on the juncture above my shoulder, and then he bit down. I think he broke through skin, but I couldn’t focus.
Endorphins mixed with pain and I didn’t know which one felt better.
Grimm’s name hung in the air, spillin from my lungs like a chanted prayer. He was right.
I never knew it just how good it could hurt, not until him. My pussy clamped down on his cock as heat shot through my veins, makin me damn near convulse.
He kept goin. When he was right on the brink of his own release, he attempted to pull out. I locked my legs around him a lil tighter, digging my nails into his back so hard I felt his skin beneath them.
“Brat—”
“No,” I breathed, refusing to let go.
“Fuck,” he cursed, tensing in my arms. I pressed down, making sure I felt every twitch of his dick and as much of his come spurting inside me as I could. I held him close, never wanting to let go.
Chapter Twelve
I wasn’t sorry about what I’d done, but I didn’t expect Grimm to feel the same way.
I admit I was confused when I dared look him in the eye again and saw his signature dark stare—the one that gave nothin away.
I’d been expecting to see anger, at the very least. I mean, I’d just trapped his swimmers inside me, and he didn’t know I was on a contraceptive.
Feelin something wet under my fingertips, I drew my hands around, letting out a soft gasp when I saw blood.
“I’m sorry, Grimm, I wasn’t tryna hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Brat, if that’s your definition of hurting me, by all means, fuck me up,” he laughed softly.
“That might scar.” I pointed out with more than a hint of concern, tryna turn him around so I could see the damage.
Grabbing my hand, he captured my bloody fingertips on his soft lips. Keeping eye contact, he sucked them into his mouth, right down to the knuckle, cleaning them with his tongue.
“You’re so dirty,” I laughed.
“Babygirl, this is me being clean.” He gave me a lil smirk and stepped back, taking his semi-hard cock with him.
“I want you to scar me, make me bleed. Use me anytime y
ou want. I’ll be doing the same to you soon enough.”
I wanted him to do that right that second, even as I sat there with burnin skin, an achin, swollen pussy, and his come drippin between my wide open legs.
But I knew there was too much we hadn’t discussed. Actually, we hadn’t spoken about a damn thing aside from cementin in the fact that I was his and he was mine. Not that it was much of a discussion, considerin I’d been his from the very day he put me in a chokehold upon our first meeting.
“We should probably…discuss all the stuff that needs discussing,” I said. “Like me bein on birth control, not that you seem to concerned. Should I be worried about that? Is this a typical thing you do? Cause you sure won’t be anymore, so if there’s some pretty lil thing waitin for you at home with her heart on her sleeve, let me know. I’ll make sure she and I have a clear understandin of who the hell you belong to.”
Not givin me an immediate response, Grimm grabbed the duffel bag we’d knocked on the floor and sat it on the bed.
“You’ve been my main priority since you went missing. If you want me to say that I didn’t shove my dick down someone’s throat, I’d be lying to you. But none of those bitches are around anymore, and you know what happened to them.”
He went back to being quiet after that, but I could tell he had more to say. I let him work it out in his head, not pushin. He’d been so open with me, I couldn’t be upset. Grimm wasn’t a talkative man. I would accept this for the simple fact that there wasn’t a single thing about him I wanted to change.
I took the small bundle of fresh clothes Cobra had had the foresight to bring, and watched him tear open a packet of wet wipes.
He shook one out and stepped between my legs, gently wiping my face clean.
The thin piece of cotton was cool and smelled like lavender. I shut my eyes, letting him work, keeping them closed when he began to speak.
“You make me feel shit I’ve never felt before, want things I didn’t think I’d want. I fucking hated that when I first met you.
Why do you think I tossed your ass right back to the cannibal who was chasing you?” He began rubbing down my arms next.
Outcasts (Badlands Book 3) Page 8