Dine and Dash
*~*~* Chapter Twelve - "Echoes of Demons" *~*~*
‘With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night.’ (Charles Dickens)
The
feel of the heat of his skin against mine through the thin fabric of his shirt,
mapped my body in gooseflesh. It was a natural injection of happiness, turning
my pretend smile genuine when I concentrated on it.
I
could still remember the feel of him on me, kissing me, in me. I place my lips softly against his, molding his bruised
flesh to mine. He didn't move for a beat and rejection churned in my stomach
again, but quickly snuck out the window when I felt him breathe heavily through
his nose and kiss me back, channeling his anger. Amazingly, I loved it. The
connection I felt to him, even in this fury, was deep and anchored me to him.
The kiss was angry, brutal and dominating. He was marking me, prying his tongue
into my mouth.
A
low moan escapes my throat and I lifted my hands to fist his hair. When I tug
at it, something snaps in him and I'm suddenly thrown on the bed with him
hovering over me. His boxer-covered dick presses hard into my core and I can
feel the fabric of his shirt grow damp as my wetness soaks into it.
"Muthafuck!"
He growls softly into the crook of my neck, as my hips lift to rub against him,
seeking friction. Then his teeth and lips are gnawing at my skin, sucking and
pulling as I writhe under him. He keeps still, building up my desperation for
him. My hips lift off the bed so that my clit can rub against him roughly.
"Do
you know how bad I want you, Bella?" he breaths into my ear. It's so full
of deep emotions he won't admit to me, that I feel my heart swelling to twice
its size. I know he's not talking about just sex. Even when he grabs his shirt
and rips it over my head, I know he's channeling everything into one raw,
passionate act.
My
pussy drips for him crazily at every primal act he throws at me. My guttural
moan turns into a breathy gasp as his fingers tweak my nipples. His palms push
at my tits and knead the flesh roughly, possessively pouring everything he's
feeling into my body.
"It's
like you're a fucking obsession." His eyes burn into mine and his palm
halts its assault on my breast, unconsciously landing over my heart. "You
control everything, like I'm fucking possessed," he presses the warm heel
of it to my sternum, "compelled."
Hissing his way down my neck, he growls low, "It makes me the most
dangerous muthafucker on the goddamn planet." My fingers grip his arms
tighter, digging my nails into the flexed muscle. "I'll do anything to
keep you, anything for you. And I'll slaughter any muthafucker that gets too
close." He promises over my heart, as his hands move down to spread my
thighs open as wide as they can go. His finger toys with my swollen nub in
torturously light touches. I watch him with lust-filled eyes as he frowns, his
brows together and then sucks on my left breast. "But how the fuck do I stop you?" I don't really understand that part, because my legs
lift up and my toes curl into the waist band of his boxers.
"Edward,"
I moan, gripping his hair in fistfuls to try to pull him up to me.
"Hmm?"
He hums, refusing to give me what I want.
"Edward,
please," I beg, gasping as he pushes his finger, knuckle deep, into my
dripping heat.
He
hisses in appreciation feeling the slickness coating him. His other hand moves
to my thigh, squeezing over the gauze punishingly.
"You
want this, Bella?" he asks. I nod, wetting my lips. "Then take
it." He urges, again refusing me. He watches me dig my toes deeper into
his boxers, letting my nails scratch his abs as I clench my toes into the
fabric and drag it down. It slips from his hips inch by delectable inch. The
more skin I feel and see makes me wetter for him, hungrier for it. It's what he
wants. He watches my face closely as his dick comes free and before I can
react, it's pushed hard against my bare flesh. "I need you to want this as
bad as me."
I
moan and squirm, trying to get him to push inside. It's driving me crazy. He's
driving me crazy. Intentionally. "I do, Edward," I gasp. "God, I
want you so bad it hurts." With herculean effort, I make sure I lock my
eyes to his so he knows it's not just his talented body that I need.
I
don't see how he reacts to it though, because, a beat later, he's balls deep
inside me so fast, the only thing I can do is cry out and brace myself when the
entire bed frame rocks. It's burning with raw passion, fuelled completely and
utterly by his anger. I love it as much as I love the other side of him. I just
wish to God I knew what was causing it. I decide to think about it some more
later, because Edward starts pulling out and pushing in rapidly. Stretching me
with every stroke of his thick, erect dick and making my body sing for him.
My
phone buzzes somewhere in the background, but I don't bother looking for it. My
body feels too good right now. The insistent buzzing continues and I wonder why
the hell I switched it back on in the first place.
His
eyes dart to the floor, narrowing to cold slits at the glowing screen, just
before I thankfully hear my phone battery die off again. He smirks sinfully and
kisses me. My head lifts off the pillow, matching him push for pull. I bite
down on his lip as his cock slips back into me. He moves his body rhythmically
with mine, grinding his hips in figure eights and making my swollen clit throb
against him appreciatively. I lift my hips up, roughly meeting his thrusts. My
knees, held curled over his forearms, tighten and clench around the contracting
and releasing hardness of his arm muscles as we work towards a fast-growing,
burning orgasm I can already practically taste.
I
scrape my nails over the ink on his right arm as I move to hold my knees open wider,
desperate to get over the edge. I need him closer. He cusses loudly as he
watches what I'm doing. His eyes turn dangerously black as he rakes them over
my hands digging into the flesh of my kneecaps, pulling them apart for him.
"Cazzo!
(fuck!)" He licks his lips. "Hold on piccola (baby)." His hands
lock around mine and pull them away from my legs, his hands taking control.
He
fucks me harder, to stop me from moving them back. It works; I fist the sheets
tightly and throw my head back, unable to help myself. My toes curl and I lift
my hips up to meet his, my body completely in control of my actions. He laughs
quietly and leans down to capture my lips as he strokes me deeply.
"There's my piccola." He praises, licking a line across my lips before
plunging his tongue deep into my mouth, curling it around mine and sucking mine
into his mouth. He threads his palms under my legs and lifts them up, first the
left, then the right and the scream that I elicit at his next thrust is
swallowed by his tongue, matching the movements of his dick in my core.
With
my legs thrown over his shoulder, he thrusts into me, smirking. "Stop
thrusting and I'll let you cum." he whispers, kissing my knee and letting
his breath dance over the sensitive flesh, as he looks at me through stray
strands of the hair that had fallen into his eyes.
He
knows that's going to be impossible for me now. It'll be torture. I can feel
everything from this position. I look at him confused. Evil
bastard. He thrusts deeper into me, making us both groan and drops more of
his weight on my lower half, pressing me into the bed. Wonderful,
Evil bastard! The motion makes him
go deeper until our hips are aligned and I can feel every inch of him in me. My
body stretches tight around his dick. I half moan, half cry from the feeling of
him so deep inside me, knowing that I can't move and he's not thrusting
anymore.
He
toys with my nipples, brushing the pads of his thumbs over them making me
ridiculously more desperate for him. "Let me do all the work this time."
He says.
I
think I'm hallucinating. He starts to slowly rock his hips against mine.
Grinding into my clit but not thrusting into me like he knows I want him to.
Suddenly he pulls back and slams in. I cry out and my back arches like a bow,
my breasts pushing up to his face. He sucks hard on one taut nipple and lets
his breath blow over it as he speaks through clenched teeth, thrusting again.
"I want you to know who owns you." My head digs into the pillow and
my body relaxes back against the bed, letting him take me, keeping my hips
firmly in place lest I give him reason to stop doing that again. His slick, hard cock slides between my
folds harshly as he keeps slamming back in. "Not just this pussy
Cappuccinetto," he murmurs pressing his forehead against mine, our breaths
mixing into one, "who you
belong to."
He's
getting wilder, pushing deeper, harder, and faster. He's holding back nothing
and I'm going to be sore but God help me if it didn't feel so good right now.
He pulls out almost all the way and then slams back into me, hitting every spot
in me that makes me pant and wail like a suffocating banshee. I feel the hairs
at the base of his length against my lips as he grinds his hips into mine,
providing euphoric friction to my tortured silly and still greedy clit. It
sheathes him impossibly deeper into me in full strokes. My body lifts off the
bed almost entirely.
"Edwaaaard!"
I yell his name over and over unintelligibly as my orgasm builds hard and fast.
"Damn
straight." He grins at me. "Muthafucking Edward."
I
fist my hands into my hair, groaning and arching, trying hard to keep from
thrusting back as he pounds into me. Oh my God!
I'll scream to the fucking heavens that I'm his if he just keeps doing this to
me! My head thrashes wildly, my damp hair spraying across the pillow. I can
feel his eyes on me, the burning devotion in them somehow untainted by the
anger that's still coursing through his system. My heart automatically responds
to its intensity. I feel everything he does. We're two halves of one whole. I
think we always have been. Anything that would hurt him would hurt me too.
His
fingers lock around both my wrists, holding them firmly above my head. His eyes
dart to one of them and he loosens his grip on it, but pounds into me harder.
I
cry out something strangled that was supposed to be his name. My body is dying
for his. I feel so good. So, so, SO, good! "Oh my God! Please don't stop!
Baby, please just don't stop," I whisper across the light scruff of his
chin.
He
swallows, I hear his Adams apple moving and I feel his eyes watching my face
when I close my eyes and lose myself to everything that's him. I'm his. I
already knew this. His hips slap into mine and the bed rocks with each hit
home. I'm about to sing notes Adele could only dream off. The coil is wound too
tight, my walls squeeze him and he groans gutturally as he pulls out.
"I
can't stop if I wanted to babe." With the next bone-crushing thrust, I'm
done for. "Take, it Bella," he commands in an aggressive growl.
I
scream his name too loud for me to recognize my voice as my own. Tears leak out
the corners of my eyes. So many spots flash before me, I think I'm gonna black
out from the overwhelming pleasure. I feel him go rigid in me, gloriously
sheathed and pulsing as his warm squirts fill me, a stream of cusses flow out
his mouth that would've made me blush if I wasn't on such a lust high. My body
takes this moment on a primal instinct to ride him through my own orgasm.
"Bella—
Bella, fucking hell, baby." his face is scrunched up and sweat drips off
him beautifully, mixing with mine as he watches me cum over him.
My
breaths slow down finally and I'm able to open my eyes again. Brown clashes
with fiery green, the hue of his orbs not having returned to normal yet as he looks
down at me. Sweat drips from his hairline to his jaw. His heavy pants match and
mix with mine. He rolls over, I feel him slip out of my sated core. He leans up
on the elbow of the arm that's cradling my head. I whine needily when he rubs
two fingers at my entrance, coating them with the mixture of us both as it
pours out of me. I take in his expression as he watches it intently. He looks
conflicted, partially apologetic but also still primal due to his anger. I feel
him rub the wetness of both our releases between his fingers before he pulls
them back.
His
lips press to my temple, "It's you, anima gemella."
I
don't know what he means by it, but it makes my heart constrict tightly. Three
words dying to fall from my lips before we both give in to the exhaustion.
~.~.~D&D chap12 cont~.~.~
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