Page 62 of Mortala
“Safeword, or shut the fuck up.”
“Fuck you!”
“Working on it.”
Bucking, pulling at my wrist, hell every damn move does nothing to break me free from his grasp.Just when I think it loosens, an unbearable pain sinks into the top of my right shoulder.My knees buckle beneath me when I turn to see his teeth gouge the cotton of my shirt.
“Elias!”I screech.
I…I can’t do this!
My nerves and senses are so fucking overwhelmed.Every touch, slap, jab of his fingers, rip of my hair, and throb between my thighs has me on the precipice of ruin.Shying away, he bites harder.It’s concurrently excessive and not enough.
Relief rushes over me when he breaks the skin.Heat blooms, spreads, and bulldozes the rest of my resistance.
Freeing my wrist, he plunges his hand down the front of my shorts.Dangerous fingers instantly find my clit, swollen and throbbing like a freshly hammered thumb.Circle after circle, he teases me—my legs wobble from the devastating sensation.
“Exactly what I expected.Liar.”
Greedily, I grind my ass back, and make him hiss.If I’m going to come apart, so will he.I roll my hips forward too, giving him no choice but to slide them inside of me.Both directions are maddening.
So good, he feels so damn good.I want more but I’m too afraid to ask—I had to beg just to get here.
Controlled, Elias bends me over the bed—further and further until my knees have no other choice than to yield.I land face first on the plush surface, soft cotton muffles my pathetic whines when his fingers slip out of me—desperate for him.I’ll be damned if he leaves me empty and needy, chasing more than what a hand and set of fingers can give.
Twisting at the waist, I’m going to cuss him the fuck out.Give him every abrasive piece of my mind as he deserves.Let my tongue morph into a weapon of mass destruction aimed squarely at him.I barely mutter a single before his hands squeeze the sides of my neck, using it to pin me to the bed like a rabid animal.
Maybe I am.Perhaps the whole fucking problem.
“Pull your shorts down.”
No.Fuck you.
Tilting to the left, I kick my right foot back.If he thinks I’m going to make anything easy, he doesn’t fucking know me at all.
Earlier he was overcome with blazing frustration, and now, now he’s ice cold in a way only men of his caliber are capable of.
You know the ones?Those who’ve lived without an anchor, ones who kill for money and call it duty to their country.Thieves of land, conquerors of people, and destroyers.Dress it up however you want, they’re killers.Takes one to know one.
“G…go to hell.”I slur.
“Plan on it.”
Fed up with my defiance, Elias strips me himself.Sharply, he yanks my shorts down my legs where they roll and pinch my tender skin.A few spots are sure to be raw tomorrow.I’ll hide them from the world as I tuck into the corner of my shower.There I’ll cower, wondering if tonight actually happened or if it’s an elaborate hoax courtesy of my demons.
Exposed, cool air does nothing to stifle the heat pouring off of me.I’m half naked, ass in the air, pussy drenched in arousal that should not be smeared across my skin.
There’s no warning.No polite rake of his blunt tip between my labia.Just obliteration when he lines himself up and slams inside.Sweet fucking agony lights up my nerves like a control panel.Immediately I clamp around him as he begins to fuck me as if he’s hated me from day one.
Silent, he doesn’t hiss or gasp.He doesn’t praise me, nor show an ounce of satisfaction.Nothing but the sudden stretch of his cock sliding in and out of my cunt, a forever ache settling deep in my belly, and the lewd slap of his balls against me.
Fuck stopping him, I’ll lick my emotional wounds later when I’m spiraling into the abyss.I want him to use me; see that I’m just as much of a husk to him as anyone else.As long as I’m delirious from pleasure by the end, he can hate me.
Each thrust purposefully misses its mark.Changing angles, direction, and momentum after a few snaps of his hips.He takes what he wants rather than giving us what we need.Aggressive thrusts force me forward, more onto my belly, crushing me between him and the mattress.
Between awareness and losing myself completely, I cling to the last fleeting pieces of stubbornness and press my palms to the bed to lift my upper body.Imagine my confusion when a solid arm hooks through the crooks of mine, trapping them, versus muscling me back down.He has my arms bent in such a way that I can’t escape—forced to bear every mind shattering thrust.
“L…Lia…as,” I rasp.
