Page 80 of Awakening the Beast
“Tears won’t save you from me, my beautiful little Wren. I am your fate, your husband—everything you can’t escape. You’ll never fucking escape me. You’re mine, always and only mine.”
My cock starts to swell, the sensation of the barrel stroking against my dick through her walls, how warm and tight she feels, clenching every time I plunge deeper inside, making me build rapidly.
When she finally comes, I ramp up my pace, holding the gun in place as my cock smashes inside her twitching asshole with a violent pounding.
Then, finally, I cum.
The bliss sweeps over me, causing my entire body to shiver, my legs threatening to give way. I stop fucking her throat as I collapse on top of her. She gasps for air, both of us sweating like we’ve just stepped out the fucking shower. Her heart slams against my ear, a fading twitching beat around my shaft as her orgasm weakens. Her legs shake violently around me, her entire body trembling from the ruthless onslaught I just unleashed on her, but the satisfaction I just experienced was worth it.
I gradually withdraw my dick and the gun from her, and she gasps from the feeling. I slam the dripping gun down onto the desk and slowly lift my head. I take in the curve of her breast, the way the thin, red lace covers it, but not enough for me not to see her pink little nipple peeking through.
I sliver my hand up the front of her body, goosebumps rippling over the skin. I press them over the mound of her tit, sneaking my fingers easily beneath the fabric before gently pulling it down. As soon as her nipple is exposed, I lean down, consuming and licking it with force, unable to get enough of her.
As her breathing becomes erratic again, I move down her body, biting into the skin on her stomach. Once my head is between her thighs, I slide my hands up her inner thighs, before aggressively pinning them wide open to the desk, holding her exposed and vulnerable before diving in.
I lick every part of her swollen and wet pussy with slowness, my pierced tongue exploring every crease, every curve, soothing her. Tasting her, and of course, her hand finds my hair, her fingers latching onto the curly strains as they always do, encouraging me, her sexy moans always revealing that she loves to have her cunt eaten out by me.
After some deliberate agonizing slowness, she finally comes again, her warm juices hitting my taste buds, her thighs shaking violently beneath my palms, the scream ripping from her throat, raw and unstoppable.
Once I’m finished, I deliver one last gradual lick upward. Plant a couple of soft kisses to her pretty clit, then withdraw. I stand at the end of the desk between her spread legs, my chin raised,feeling completely satisfied, while I tuck my cock back inside my boxers, dragging my zipper up and fastening my belt. My dark eyes never leave her shattered body, her flushed face.
She looks like a picture-perfect masterpiece in the aftermath of chaos—my chaos.
I slip my arm beneath her, lifting her into me as I sit back in my chair, her limbs draping naturally, worn out from the intensity we’ve just shared. She feels fragile in my hands as her body rests lifeless in my lap, cheek pressed against my shoulder, her breath soft and shallow.
Gently, I start adjusting her clothes, smoothing out the fabric, combing through her hair with my fingers to move the sweaty strands away from her forehead. My movements, once harsh, now delicate, almost apologetic.
“I was going to tell you today,” I finally murmur. Her lashes flutter, her tired eyes flicking upward to meet mine, filled with questions, maybe too drained to demand answers.
“Kill her,” I command coldly.
Wren's head snaps up instantly, eyes wide with disbelief.
“What?”
I shrug casually, my eyes scanning her, the torn shirt barely covering her. “Fucking kill her. Get it done. End this.”
The air between us grows dense, but she stays silent, watching me as I adjust her clothes with slow movements, as if trying to piece her back together what I just broke. I pull at the buttonless fabric, a pathetic attempt to restore some sense of normalcy, though we both know that’s long fucking gone.
“You’re going to spend some time with my mom before she leaves for a while,” I order, my words hard, brooking no argument.
She rolls her eyes, letting out an irritated huff, glancing away. But then, like a flame reigniting, her gaze flashes back to mine.
“Goes away for a while?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
I nod before responding. “Europe. Or some shit.”
Her jaw clenches, something flashing in her eyes as she arches a brow. “And why the hell should I spend time with her?”
My patience thins, the sharpness cutting through. “Because you two have issues, and it’s pissing me the fuck off.” My gaze narrows, daring her to argue. “Fix it or I’ll make you two working together permanent. I don’t care which.”
Her eyes drop, her silence louder than any response. I pull her closer, sliding my hands firmly around her back until our bodies are pressed together, her warmth melding with mine. Our lips crash, tongues intertwining in a slow, intoxicating dance that sends shivers racing down my fucking spine.
She grips my neck with her hands before sliding them into my hair, and for a moment, everything fades—the conflict, the violence, the shit that’s always looming. There’s only us. Just this blazing fire that neither of us can extinguish.
When she breaks away, her forehead rests against mine, her eyes cast down, and I take a moment to admire how her lashes fan across her cheeks.
“I want you to pencil in some dates for me,” I murmur, and her gaze lifts, curiosity in her eyes. “Next week, I’m taking you out for dinner. Just me and you.”
