His other hand drifted between my parted legs, a jolt of surprise coursing through me from the unexpectedness of his touch.
“Relax,” he crooned.
His voice was like honey wrapped up in a blanket of silk. It was soft and smooth, completely mesmerizing in its own right. His weight left me momentarily, but I could sense him hovering over my body. There was a lot of shuffling before he returned, and then his hands were on my thighs again, pushing them apart.
Panic shot through my veins when something smooth and hard pressed against my entrance. My hands snapped out,pushing against his chest with all the strength I could muster. He didn’t even move a muscle, completely unphased as I shoved at him.
“D-don’t,” I whimpered, another tear sliding down my cheek.
“I’ll be gentle.” He paused, a crease forming between his dark brows where the moon outside illuminated his features. “Maybe.”
My eyes widened, but before I could beg anymore, he was pushing forward. Anything I was about to say was cut off on a gasp of surprise, his cock stretching me with a slight burn. I slapped at his chest as he slid in deeper, pain shooting through the most sensitive parts of my body.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “I knew you wanted this. You’re already so wet for me.”
I shook my head, unable to force words through my lips. But he didn’t stop. He eased back a fraction, offering me a tiny amount of relief before slamming inside completely and severing that last barrier between us.
I cried out in agony, my fingers curling around his shirt as more tears fell.
He didn’t move. Just laid there, buried to the hilt inside of me as he waited for me to adjust.
“It’ll stop hurting after this,” he assured me, his voice softer than before.
My breath came out in wild, fast bursts and my head swam with a mixture of discomfort and pain. A burning sensation began from where our bodies connected and expanded through the rest of my core, making it damn near impossible to think of much else. A whimper escaped my defenses when my pussy fluttered around his girth, threatening to suck him in further.
Gentle my ass.
Somehow, this felt different than when Felix and his friends attempted to assault me. This felt dangerous, but exhilarating atthe same time. I didn’t understand it. What was the difference, truly?
The pain slowly subsided, giving way to a soft throb between my thighs. My shoulders relaxed, my head spun, and the tension ebbed from my muscles. Alastair must have noticed it too, because that was when he began moving again. Soft at first, his cock sliding in and out with short, shallow thrusts.
“Oh,” I whimpered, pleasure spilling down my spine.
His breathing picked up and his head dropped forward as he lost himself to the sensation. He was beautiful. Even his pale skin seemed to glow through the darkness of my bedroom, but I could still see most of his face—thanks to the window. Dark hair fell before his eyes with the movement, nearly blocking them from view. But even now, they were too light and blue not to notice.
“So tight,” he panted, his voice laced with raw desire.
Alastair began picking up his pace, thrusting harder, faster, and even deeper than before. The bed rocked beneath our weight, ecstasy shooting through my veins from the sparks of pleasure entering me. I began to lose myself; my head clouded with nothing but the need for him. This was wrong. Logically, I knew that. But fuck. It felt so good. My fingers drifted through his hair, curling around the silky strands as my back arched off the mattress.
“That’s it, Little Martyr. Give it all to me.”
I didn’t understand the nickname, but I didn’t care to. It sounded so sexy rolling off his tongue and only made me want this more.
His movements became more frantic, his body forcing mine further into the mattress with every thrust. Soft moans tumbled from my lips, and my head fell back, desire washing over me completely. His grunts and pants filled the room, followed by the sound of his skin slapping against mine.
My hands dropped from his hair and slipped beneath his shirt instead. His body was hard and smooth, so unlike what I’d expect a man’s to be. I was under the impression they were hairy and muscly, but not Alastair. He was tone and lean with smooth skin. I liked that.
My fingertips brushed over the hard ridges of his abs before drifting to meet his ribs. He shuddered beneath my touch, and his response only excited me more.
There was something about this man—demon—or whatever the fuck he was. It intrigued me more than anything ever had. I wanted him to want me; to show me things I’d never experienced in my lifetime or that I never would.
Maybe it made me as twisted as him, but it wasn’t like I had much going for me anyway. So, I didn’t bother fighting it anymore. I pulled him closer and let go, my body shattering around him as cries spilled from my lips.
A few thrusts later, he followed behind me, his warmth filling my body as he let go too. And then he collapsed, breathing heavily while he worked to regulate his breathing.
And I knew I was a goner.
Chapter Eleven
