“Sam,” I drawled in a calming tone, “let’s talk, I don’t want to duel with you.” She cracked the whip at me. I jerked back a few steps and it missed me by inches. “Look, I know you’re mad at me but -”
“I’m not mad, I’m pissed.” She cracked the whip at me again. This time it caught the hand I had held up in a white-flag gesture, and it stung like fuck.
“Jesus, Sam, will you just listen.”
“What’s the point? There’s honestly nothing you could say that would change the fact that I want to whip your arse around this arena until you beg me to stop. Not that I will stop.”
Again she lashed the whip and again it caught me; this time on my ear. Even in spite of the pain, I couldn’t help noticing how sexy she looked right now with her eyes smouldering and that whip threading through her fingers. “Baby, just listen to me -”
“Oh no, you don’t get to call me that. I’m not your baby.” As if to punctuate that, she cracked the whip again and it slashed my chest, tearing my t-shirt and also the flesh underneath. It burnt even as it healed itself. What burnt more were her words.
“Like hell you’re not.” With that I released a stream of electric sparks through my fingers, zapping the ground near her feet. I could tell by the maddened expression on her face that she knew I’d purposely missed.
“Fight me!” Abruptly she cracked the whip hard; it sliced along my cheek, lips and jaw. It hurt like a bitch! Without giving me time to recover, she cracked it again. A sharp stinging-burning pain ran along my thigh.
“I told you, I don’t want to duel with you! Now will you just calm the hell down so we can talk?!”
“About what, Heir Boy? About how I’m okay to shag and feed from but I’m not good enough to lead alongside you? About how you’re cutting me out again? About how you’re a sexist, lying, backstabbing bastard?” The whip slashed through my t-shirt again so there was now an X running through it.
“It wasn’t that I was trying to cut you out.”
“You’ve been trying to cut me out from day one!”
This time the whip cut through the flesh of my shin. Jesus, this woman was merciless!
“You know what’s funny? Last night at the gathering when everyone was looking down on me ’cause I’m a Sventé, I wondered if you’d go back to being like that after you’d shagged me. Hmm. Seems like that was more of a premonition really.”
“Dammit, Sam, I don’t look down on you.” The whip caught my earlobe so hard I jumped. “Goddammit!”
“I can’t believe I ever thought you might just respect me. Not that I thought you respected me as much as the others do, but I thought you might just be getting there. But no, you’re still the sexist twat I met at the pool.”
“If you’d just lower that whip for a minute and let me speak I can expl -” The whip clipped my earlobe again where it hurt the most; which was obviously why she’d done it again. Even though my blood had only seeped to the surface slightly with each tear of my flesh before repairing itself, the scent was still potent in the air. I could see that it was getting to her by the way her nostrils were flaring and how she was repeatedly swallowing hard. I was thinking of how I might be able to use it to my advantage but her next words cut off all thoughts.
“Max was right about you, I should’ve listened to the bloke. I should’ve stayed well away from you. I should’ve shagged him!”
And there went my patience and my rationality. With my Pagori speed I was on her before she’d even finished lashing the whip, slamming her into the wall. “I don’t want you on the front line because I don’t want you being hurt, you insane bitch!” Then I closed my mouth over hers, forcefully thrusting my tongue into her mouth to stroke her own. It was a punishing, possessive, hungry kiss. That same blast of fire that always came with kissing her rushed through me just as it rushed through her, but I could sense she was still ready to fight me off. I palmed her breast and then, with my thumb, zapped her nipple with a brief electric discharge. She jerked and moaned so I did it again.
“How could you think I look down on you?” I demanded, but I kissed her again before she could speak. “Whether you believe it or not, I admire you, I respect you and I care about you.” I held back the L word. Maybe there would come a time to tell her, but it wasn’t now. I sensed the shock she was feeling quickly give way to scepticism. Cutting off whatever she was about to say, I cupped her and zapped her clit. “It’s true. And I can’t stand the idea of anything happening to you.” While zapping her clit again with one hand I zapped a nipple with the other. She half-moaned half-whimpered and gripped my t-shirt as if to anchor herself. “Like that, baby?”
Her eyes flipped open and her glare was fierce. “I said don’t call me that.”
I cupped her harder and zapped her clit again. “I’ll call you that as often as I damn well want.”
“You’re a bastard!”
I freed my painfully hard cock from my jeans. “Yeah? Well this bastard’s about to fuck you, baby.” With Pagori speed I slipped my hands under her thighs, hoisted her up, tore open her pants and plunged inside her; seating myself to the hilt in one harsh stroke. We both groaned. “Jesus, Sam,” I breathed against her lips as her muscles clamped around my cock. She was so hot and tight and wet, and she was all mine whether she liked it or not.
(Sam)
Why did it have to feel so good to have him inside me? The way he filled me and stretched me made me feel completely and utterly taken. I wanted so much to hate him and his touch. I wanted so much to be able to snort at his claim to care about me and air-blast him away. If it hadn’t been for that link I’d be convinced that he’d been talking tripe, but I’d sensed his honesty and also his fear that I was hurt. I had to admit to myself, though, that even if I hadn’t sensed those things I probably wouldn’t have been able to fight this need to have him, especially when this might actually be our last night together.
“Can you feel how much I love being deep inside you?” His voice was thick with lust and a need to move that, for whatever dumb reason, he was resisting. I nodded. “I can sense how much you love it too.”
It was at times like this that that stupid link really cheesed me off; him knowing things like this gave him power over me. To add to that, it made me feel exposed and vulnerable like I was an open book to be read at his leisure. What was frustrating me even more now, however, was that he wasn’t moving. I tightened my legs around his hips and squeezed my inner muscles around his dick, hoping to incite him.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?”
“You dare ask me to beg again and I’ll rip your bollocks off.”
“I don’t want you to beg. I want you to admit that it’s only me you want, no one else. What, you thought saying you wished you’d fucked Max wasn’t going to make me pissed?”
Oh and he was pissed. In fact, I’d never seen Jared this agitated before. In all fairness, though, if he’d have said something like that to me about another woman I’d have set him on fire and then done a celebratory dance around his ashes.
“Admit it, it’s not him you want buried inside you like this, is it?”
“No.”
Rewardingly he withdrew and then drove himself deep. I groaned and locked my arms around his neck. “And it’s not any other guy you want like this either, is it?”
“No.”
Again he withdrew and then surged into me, wringing another groan from me. “Who is it you do want? Tell me.”
“You.”
“That’s a very good thing, baby, because if another guy even tries to touch you I’ll fucking kill him.” Palming my arse to hold me still he began pounding into me like he was possessed. And that was exactly how I wanted him. God, it was absolutely amazing. Each thrust was harsh and ruthless. It was as if each time he drove into me he was driving home his words. “I’ve needed to fuck you since the second I laid eyes on you, Sam. Even then, even that very first day, I couldn’t shake that goddamn feeling that you were mine.”