Page 66 of Heavy
I can still feel his words, but this time against my neck. “But I equally want to put you on your back, spread your legs wide, and fuck that beautiful cunt of yours. I want to watch how I make you feel, have you scream out my name…” He rolls his hips against mine, and my leg, as if tugged up by a string, lifts up to his hip. “Have you come all over my cock to show you just how much of a greedy slut you are for me.”
He’s right, holy fuck, he is so right. I’m trying to find friction, but he doesn’t move his hands to shift his cock to an angle I can get it.
“Look at you.” His nose brushes against my neck, his mouth so close that I can’t help but whimper, instinctively pushing into him, desperate to feel the contact of his lips against my skin. “So desperate for it, and you’ll stay that way. Needy. Wanting. I bet you are dripping from that shaved pussy of yours. The one you keep tidy in hopes that I will break, drop to my knees, and shove my tongue into your tight holes. Is that it?”
My hands tighten around his, both our nails biting into each other in a way that I’m certain one of us will draw blood soon.
“Are you a fucking slut for me, Cal?”
“Y-Yes…” Again, my hips move to try and find something to just brush against my sensitive clit. “Ronan, please…”
“Tell me, baby girl… then I’ll give you what you want.”
My fingers loosen, and in a breathless plea I say, “I want to touch you. That’s what I want.”
When his lips press against my neck, right where my pulse rises, I fucking moan. I imagine them against my own, around my clit, and I know even with the smallest of stimulation I’d come right now.
It’s inevitable at this point, especially as he drags his attention to my jaw, where he bites down with an intensity that makes me scream through a mewl.
“Name” is all he says, and as his nose pushes against my cheek, I shut my eyes.
He’ll know if I lie. I can’t take him throwing me out.
I’m so pathetic.
“The Serrano’s.”
He leans away from me but doesn’t separate us. His forehead presses against mine while he brings our hands down between us, then untangles our fingers.
Both of his arms raise, caging me between them as he leaves my hand inches from his stomach. I lift my gaze, his eyes dropping to half-mast. He’s giving me what I asked for, and my skin feels like it’s under a small vibration.
“Tell me it’s okay,” I whisper.
He hesitates, his eyes shifting quickly between mine. I can see his chest rising and falling with his breathing. When his jaw clenches and his throat bobs, I don’t think he is going to say anything. He doesn’t want this but is appeasing me for finally giving him what he asked for.
Just as I’m fisting my hands, he murmurs, “Touch me, Calista.”
21
Ronan
Thechokeholdthiswomanhas on me is tight enough to suffocate and kill me. It’s pathetic that I wouldn't even fight for my life—I’d simply let it happen. Not because I want to die, but because she’d be the one doing it.
I’ve got my eyes trained right into hers, but when she pulls away to look at my chest, I follow. Her fingers are shaking and moving agonizingly slowly. She’s treading carefully like I’ll shatter physically.
It isn’t the body that will break apart, it’s the mind that will take me back; drag me to the moments of distrust and misguided sense of love. When I was nothing but a plaything to someone’s sick needs.
As her fingertips press against the divot of my sternum, a void opens beneath it, like a black hole. It’s the sensation of a blackout—abrupt and unannounced, without the foreboding of an approaching storm. Numbness creeps in, starting from my toes and gradually enveloping every inch until there’s nothing left to feel.
Except I still dofeel. It drags across every inch of my body, not just where she touches me. Her contact is no different from the rest. It scratches at my bones and sends uncomfortable vibrations coursing through me.
She’s not even got her second hand on me when I grab her head. My thumbs press under her jaw, my fingers spread across the sides of her face, tilting her back to stare right at me as I hover over her.
“Stop!” I bark out, causing her to jump. Her hands pull away and she shoves them behind her back.
Her olive eyes look through me, the pinch between her brows squeezes my heart.It’s not you, baby girl.It’s me. I’m defective and will never run properly.
I step her back to the wall, one of my hands moving gently down her cheek to her throat. My grip around it enough that I can feel her pulse rising. All I should want to do is turn her around, shove her face against the wall and slam inside of her. As I’ve treated every hole I’ve ever had.
