Page 97 of Hollow

“You’re thinking about him.” Brom says between grunts, biting my earlobe. “What do I have to do to get you to stop? Do I need to make you come? Do I need to spill inside you until you’re a sloppy mess? Shall I make you lick it all up, daffodil?”

“Please,” I say around his fingers, because I want that. I want everything this wild beast of a man has to give me.

“You like to beg,” he says, spearing me with one hard thrust until my breasts are flat against the wall. “How often did you beg him for release?”

“Always.”

He lets out a low roar, removing his hand that’s wet with my mouth. He brings his hand behind me, and I hear him spit into it. Then I jolt as it makes its way down to my ass, running over the cleaved space between my cheeks.

“Has he touched you here?” he whispers, licking up my neck, taking grip of my hair again with his other hand. He yanks my strands, sending shards of pain that cascade over my body, making my hips buck.

“N-no,” I tell him. I’ve wanted it but felt too devious to ask, even in front of someone like Crane.

He lets out a low noise of pleasure and then slides his fingers between the crack, finding the spot, his tips wet and pushing into where I’m tightest.

“Do you like that?” he asks, bringing my head back again so my neck is exposed and his mouth is at my ear. There’s a tone to his question that reminds me of the old Brom, the desire to please. It’s still there. He’s still there.

I try to nod, swallow.

“Good,” he says, pushing his finger inside my ass while he continues to drive his cock into me.

I suck in my breath, my body overwhelmed by too many sensations. He’s inside me in two different places, his cock and finger working in tandem and working me hard, while his grip in my hair gives me pleasure and pain. I’m starting to ache so much between my legs, my blood hot, making my skin feel too tight. The need to climax is becoming painful, and I’m not sure how much more I can take.

“You need to come?” he asks me. “Come on my cock like the little slut you are? Leave me soaked and squeezed?”

“Yes,” I tell him, breathless. “Please.”

He bites the back of my shoulder in response, the sweat pooling between our bodies. I close my eyes to the pain, to the bliss.

“Only if you tell me that you’re mine,” he says, pulling his teeth away.

“I’m yours,” I say.

“Only mine,” he says.

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

A pause, his cock and finger squeezed inside me. “Fuck,” he growls. “I should come right here and walk away and let you beg for mercy. I should punish you.”

My throat feels thick; I can barely swallow. He knows how desperate I am. The room smells of my desire, and I ache so badly I think I might die.

“Please, Brom,” I whisper. “I need to come. I need you to come inside me. I need you…”

He lets out a low moan. “You don’t know what it feels like to hear that.”

Then he lets go of my hair and slides his hand down over my breasts, squeezing at them until it slips between my legs.

I come instantly.

I feel everything.

My back bows against him, the back of my head on his shoulder. A strangled cry comes from my mouth, and the world grows bright and effervescent. I feel like the bubbles in a glass of champagne, bursting in light.

“Brom,” I cry out through a ragged gasp.

It’s good. It’s heavenly. It’s everything.

“Oh, fuck,” Brom grunts, and I feel him swell inside me, his hips slowing, the push of his cock deeper, harder. “Kat, Kat,” he whispers hoarsely, still sliding his fingers over my wetness until I’m too sensitive.