Euphoria consumes me, wrapping me so tightly in its clutches, all five of my senses are lost to it.

This isn’t a climb to heaven. It’s a fall from grace.

I’ll never recover—not when my soul has been ripped from my body and dragged down to hell. I fell so deeply that I’ve found myself in the devil’s lair, being feasted on from the dark god himself.

Moans wrack from my throat, and I feel his answering groan. His hands clutch at my thighs, prying them apart just enough to continue to lap at my throbbing cunt, riding out the orgasm for longer than my body can handle.

He rips his mouth away and crawls up my body while continuing to fuck me with his fingers. I’m still delirious, my mouth still parted as I continue to moan. So, when he pinches my cheeks, holding my mouth open, I hardly care. His fingers feel too good.

His mouth skates over my lips once before I watch a trail of saliva drip from his mouth into mine.

“Swallow your juices,” he rasps.

And I do. My throat works as the unique taste blooms across my tongue. He growls deep in his chest before he crushes his lips to mine.

I let him. Later, I’ll ask myself why. But with his fingers still drawing out pleasure, despite my orgasm having faded and the fog clouding my judgement—I fucking let him.

Not only that, but I kiss back.

His tongue dives into my mouth, swirling with my own. Fire and electricity spark from our connected lips, and it feels like planets colliding. Like the energy is astronomical, and with every brush and every lick, a new star is being born.

Time ceases to exist as he kisses me until my lips are bruised, and I’m sure I’ll come out of this with a permanent stutter in my breathing. At one point, he withdrew his fingers and cupped my face with his hands almost sweetly. A stark contrast to… well, him and the way he devours me.

He yanks himself away when our bodies begin to grind ruthlessly and moans slip free, and I’m glad for it. The second he retreats, it’s like time and clarity come rushing back in, hitting me over the head like someone just clocked me with a bat.

I don’t open my eyes, I just suck in deeply, breathless from that kiss. His body slips out from between my thighs, and I immediately snap my knees inward and drop my feet, hiding myself from his ravenous eyes.

Being consumed by him feels like drowning in water with a live wire in it. Electric currents ravish your body until you’re overcome with it. No oxygen. No thought. No control.

And when it’s over, he yanks you out of the water. The electricity still dancing across your skin, currents sparking between your bodies, but you can see and think clearly again.

All you can feel is like you’ve been ripped to shreds. Like your body chemistry has been completely rearranged, and you’ve come out of that water an entirely different person.

I hate him for it.

I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone. The bliss fades, and the familiar feeling of fury and hatred reawaken.

He doesn’t speak, but I feel the power bubbling beneath his skin.

I can feel the desire. The thirst. The absolute ravenous beast threatening to tear from his skin.

If it does, I can no longer trust myself to stop him from consuming me from the inside out. And the realization makes me want to cry.

I let it fucking happen again. With the gun, and now this, why do I keep letting this happen?

He’s forcing himself on me, we both know that. But in the end, he had me wanting it just as much as he did. He had me nearly begging for it. Whether it was his gun fucking me or his tongue, my legs fell open by the time it was over.

Not to mention we just made out like two horny teenagers about to lose their virginity.

I don’t know what the fuck to do with that information. Or how the hell to even process it.

A moment of silence passes, the air disturbed only by our heavy breathing.

I’m not strong enough to open my eyes and face what happened. I’m scared of what I’ll do—what I’ll say.

For the first time, the asshole in the sky finally listens to my pleas and compels this man to reach over, untie the ropes and walk the fuck away.

I force my eyes open and watch him go, swallowing the venom that threatens to spew from my mouth. If I let it loose, I know it’ll just result in him carrying out another threat.

He pauses at the door, turning his head just enough for the moonlight to reveal his sharp jawline, the wetness coating his skin, and a hint of a scar.

He doesn’t speak, but he does bite his bottom lip hard, trapping whatever meaningless words on his tongue. Right along with the taste of my pussy.

Finally, he turns, the door gently clicking shut behind him. For the second time, I'm left alone. Decimated and in ruins. And again, I let the tears fall freely while I work to pick up the pieces.

Chapter 19

The Shadow

I don’t regret it. Not any more than when I stuck a gun in her cunt and made her come.

And I know how fucked up that is—to take something without consent. I know that’s what I’m fighting against every day.

She hasn’t given it to me yet, but she will. I know my little mouse better than she knows herself. She’s in too much denial to see how drawn she is to me. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t instigate, pushing to get her clit bitten, knowing damn well I stay true to my word.

If she genuinely wasn’t intrigued, she wouldn’t have texted me back in the first place.

Her actions speak an entirely different language than her words. A language filled with desire and pleas—she just hasn’t learned to translate it yet.

Doesn’t make it right, nor does it justify it. But I can't make myself regret tasting something so fucking sweet—so fucking perfect. Even if she didn’t want to want it. Because that’s what that was.

She knew I was going to follow through with my threat if she told me to fuck off again, and she kept doing it anyways. And that tells me that my little mouse can’t control how she really feels. This means that whatever she feels, it’s fucking addicting.

She fought me so hard initially, her anger and ire only turning my blood to molten lava. The harder she fought me, the harder my cock fought against the confines of my jeans.

I wanted so badly to release the zipper and plunge myself deep inside that sweet little pussy. I was close—too fucking close to doing it. Once those cries of pleasure reached my ears, and she gripped me in her hold, shamelessly grinding against my face—I was nearly done for.

The only thing that stopped me was the look on her face.

When she was coming on my face, she was unashamed. But as soon as the orgasm drained from her body and the kiss was no longer consuming us, she felt nothing but shame.

It’s going to take time, I remind myself.

I crack my neck, releasing a shuddering breath.

I’m sitting in my Mustang, my dick still painfully pressed against my zipper. Just as I decide to say fuck it—jacking off in a car is the least of my sins and wouldn’t be the first fucking time—my phone blares in the console next to me.

I curl my hand into a tight fist, my muscles straining as I fight the overwhelming urge to bash it into the fucking window.

I don’t think I’ve had blue balls like this since high school when Sarah Forton jacked me off in the locker room. It was the first time a girl touched my dick, and I didn’t even get to finish because Coach walked in before I could shoot my load off on her pretty tits.

I snatch up the phone and bring it to my ear without even looking.

“Yeah?” I snap, my frustration boiling to dangerous levels.