Page 33 of Wicked Love

Her fingers and toes claw at the rough ground beneath her. She fights against me, but her body tells a different story. I continue to slide in and out of her, her slick cunt growing increasingly wetter with every stroke of my cock.

“Tight. Wet. And so fucking ready to be pumped full of my cum.” I repeatedly slam my hips against her ass. “You fucking love this, don’t you?”

Her cunt quivers rhythmically around my cock, and I know she’s going to come for me.

Whether she wants to or not.

Flexing my arm, I tighten the hold on her neck as I deepen my thrusts. “You can’t fight it, love. Your cunt was made to take my cock. It will always make you come. I will always make you come.”

Droplets of tears from her face fall to my forearm as her body finally gives in to what she needs. Her cunt clenches around me as her body grows rigid beneath me.

“That’s my good girl,” I groan into her ear, slamming into her as I continue to deprive her of the ability to breathe. Her body softens beneath me as she teeters on the bridge of consciousness. Not loosening my grip, I drive into her a few more times before filling her perfect cunt. I groan through my release, every blow of cum from my cock better than the last.

Releasing my flexed bicep, Cora’s face lolls against my forearm. Gently laying her face against the bricks beneath us, I climb off her limp body and tuck my spent cock back into my pants. I kneel beside her, lift her near-lifeless body into my arms, and begin carrying her into the house. I can barely take my eyes off her. Even with blood and mascara staining her face, she’s fucking beautiful.

My perfect little Cora.

As I carry her upstairs and straight to my room, I continue to hold her as I turn on the water to draw a bath. Once the water reaches a comfortable temperature, I lay her on the bathmat to quickly strip from my clothes before helping her from hers.

“You’re a mess, love,” I mutter mostly to myself. She is covered in blood. It marks her knees and elbows where she ground against the cobblestones as I fucked her the way she needed. Her left cheek has a small gash, likely from taking the brunt of her fall, and blood has crusted along her jaw.

Scooping her back into my arms, I climb the two of us into the tub. I carefully lower us both into the hot water below, Cora’s body startles when it touches her skin.

I pull her tightly to me and sink us both into the water as her eyes dart open.

“Welcome back, love.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CORA

Opening my eyes and seeing Samuel—so calm, with gentleness in his eyes again—pressed against me, I open my mouth to scream. I quickly find it covered with his hand; my screams muffled against his palm.

“We aren’t going to do that.” He squeezes my cheeks with just enough force to cause me to wince. “I let you have your moment. I had mine. Now, you’re going to behave for me, and I’m going to put that part of me away from you.”

The firm grip on my face loosens, and he traces his fingers along my jaw before dipping them into the water. Submerging his hand, he lifts his cupped palm full of water back to my face. I flinch and pull back as the water splashes against my face.

“You’ve made a real mess of yourself.” He softly slides his wet hand over my face. Diluted blood—my diluted blood—trickles down his arm as he pulls away. Lifting my burning palms from the water, I find both of my hands completely riddled with scrapes and scratches. Blood still seeping from the deepest of them.

Samuel gently grabs my hand, lightly caressing the back of it with his thumb as he brings it to his face. I tense with resistance, and he squeezes just hard enough to gain my compliance as he pulls my bloody palm to his lips. He places a soft, wet kiss in the center of my palm, leaving his lips stained a deep shade of cherry when he pulls my hand back.

“You’re going to let me take care of you, Cora.” He presses my hand back into the water before resituating me on his lap. Spreading his thighs, my ass slides between them to the smooth porcelain of the tub. He wraps an arm around me and pulls my back to his chest. The sigh he releases once I’m against him is both eerily comforting and terrifying.

“Plea—” I begin to plead, but I am silenced by a gentle finger over my lips and a shush against my ear.

“You’ve told me time and time again that you love the ways I take care of you.” He pulls a washcloth into the tub and begins sliding it over the sensitive and marred skin of my arm. “You’re going to let me, whether you want to or not.”

As I sit against him, he continues to clean the mess I made of myself, my heart still pounds as he washes away the blood. Adrenaline, fear, and self-doubt course through my veins as I battle with myself.

Do I run from the monster?

Or submit to the man I’ve fallen for?

“That’s my good girl.” Samuel’s voice is full of pride when I willingly part my thighs so that he can clean between them. I’m relieved to find his touch isn’t sensual, just methodical and caretaker-like as he cleans the last of the blood and cum from me.

Ringing the water from the washcloth, he drapes it over the faucet before wrapping his arms around me and holding me against him. Not tightly or suffocatingly, but lovingly.

“You’ll learn,” he speaks against the crook of my neck.