God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(115)

“And you never will.” His lips slam against mine, and for a second, I’m stunned.

For a second, I think I’m back in that cruel dream’s clutches and imagining Creighton’s full lips on mine.

That thought is soon dispersed when he thrusts his tongue inside. One hand fists in my wet hair and the other shoves me against him by the waist.

Creighton doesn’t just kiss me, he ravages and devours me. It’s a clash of teeth, lips, and tongues. It’s an animalistic claiming meant to remind me that I’ve always belonged to him.

I plant both palms on his chest, trying to push him away, trying with everything in me to put an end to this madness.

But he delves deeper, kissing me harder, feasting on me in ways I thought would never be possible again.

And I just can’t fight him.

Physically, emotionally, or mentally.

Still, I manage to pull back, breathing heavily. “Don’t…Creighton…”

“Don’t what?” His grip tightens on my hair and his other hand cups my breast through the transparent dress and pinches an achingly hard nipple. “Touch you? Own you like you’re mine?”

A zap of pleasure starts where he’s touching me and ends between my thighs.

It’s been so long. And no matter how much I’ve touched myself, no matter how many times I imagined his face and his ruthless touch, nothing could bring me the unbound ecstasy only he can trigger.

“Just stop whatever you’re doing.” I dig my fingers in his hoodie. “Let me go home.”

“So you can be your parents’ perfect little doll and marry whoever they pick for you?”

“What if I do? It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” His voice darkens in sync with his eyes. They’ve become dim now, a pure imitation of a starless night.

He twists my nipple so hard that I gasp, but he doesn’t stop there. He tugs on my dress’s zipper and yanks it off me and then the bra follows. His hands are quick, meticulous, and so savage that I’m out of sorts.

My dress and bra are thrown to the shore, but my panties don’t have the same fate. He all but shreds them, letting the massacred pieces scatter in the ocean.

When he pinches my sensitive nipple again, it’s skin to skin, flesh to flesh, and with so much command that I melt. I’m so lightheaded that the crash of the waves against my legs causes me to sway.

“Everything about you is my fucking business.” He releases my hair to unzip his jeans and pull out his hard cock. “You might have thought it was over, but it’s not. Far from it.”

He hooks his hands beneath my thighs and lifts me up so that I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist and circle his neck with a hand.

The moment I search his eyes, he rams inside me in one go. My head falls on his shoulder from the force of it, coupled with a strangled sound.

It’s been only a month, but it feels like a year.

He stays there for a bit, unmoving for a second as we breath each other in, fall into the lull of us. The sound of the crashing waves echo around us as we dig our fingers into each, both literally and figuratively. Just when I’m falling into the moment, he thrusts all the way inside until I physically jerk.

Then he does it again, and again, ramming his cock inside me in a ruthless rhythm, fucking me, owning me.

Punishing me.

My head falls forward and I dig my nails into his back.

It’s a useless attempt to hurt him as much as he’s wrecking my world apart. He fucks me with enough command and assertiveness that I have no choice but to let it happen.

I want him with so much desire that drives me insane. I want him as wildly as he wants me.

“This cunt is mine. You are mine, Annika. Nothing and no one will change that. Not your father.” Thrust. “Not your brother.” Thrust. “Not even you.”

He’s like a madman. There’s no stopping him and certainly no reasoning with him. He drives inside me with a power that I’ve never felt before, and that says something since he’s always been intense in some way.

This time, he doesn’t even need to inflict any pain. He’s the pain that’s brimming with pleasure.

The sliver of light in the middle of the darkness.

He’s both day and night and I have no escape from his orbit.

“Creighton…” I moan, shoving a hand against his chest. “Slow down…I can’t take this.”

“You can. You always did.”

“This is too much.”

“You know what’s too much? Thinking you can marry some sorry fuck after I’ve claimed you. After I put my fucking mark on you.” He slides his hand up to cup my jaw, tilts it back, then bites on my throat. Hard. So hard that I gasp. “It’s believing I’d ever let you go.”

“But you hate my family,” I sob the words that have been plaguing me, the words that make this pleasure so screwed up.

“I can still fuck you.” His tongue darts out and he licks my tears as he whispers, “Remember this, Annika. There’s never been a day where you haven’t been mine.”

Then he drives so deep that he hits my sensitive spot over and over.

And over.

The moment his teeth find the sensitive flesh of my throat again, a powerful orgasm hits me and I release enough noises to disturb any living creature around.