Lord of London Town - Tillie Cole Page 0,81

tossed my head back, my clit pulsing at his roughness.

I pulled on his hair, so hard that he had no choice but to look up. “I love you,” I said, and Arthur stilled. His jaw clenched and his hands moved to my waist, holding on to me tightly. My eyes blurred. “I love you, Arthur Adley,” I said, softer, and cupped his cheek. His skin was boiling, and my chest caved when he turned his head and kissed my palm. It was the only flicker of tenderness he offered. A fleeting expression of softness before the darkness blanketed us both again.

A second later, he pulled out his cock and lifted me against the wall of the pit. With blood smothering us both, he pushed inside me, slamming into me with a savage grunt.

I cried out, clutching his back as he filled me after these many months without him. I had missed him. I realised just how much. Nothing felt like this. No one had ever filled me this way, possessed me this way.

In this moment, I had never been more sure of anything than that Arthur was made for me. As I felt his hands bruising my thighs as he ploughed into me, his wide, muscled body caging me in, I knew I would never go back on my promise. I would never leave his side. There was no longer a choice. I was soldering myself to him.

Melding our souls, splicing our hearts.

I kissed him. As my pussy started to tighten, I kissed him and kissed him as his hips moved faster. His tongue duelled against mine, fucking my mouth just as hard as he was fucking me. “I love you,” I murmured against his mouth, seeing his eyes dilate as the words hit his ears like bullets.

Arthur fucked me until my legs were numb. Until I was him and he was me and the blood and flesh of his victims that marred his skin were spread on my skin as well. His victories mine, and his sins my sins too.

Arthur’s grunts and groans were feral, and I felt tension in my lower back, the building of the orgasm he was tearing from me. I raked his back with my long fingernails, his blood joining the crimson cocktail already tattooing his skin. My pussy clenched, and with Arthur’s unrelenting rhythm, I came hard, screaming my release into the empty mouth of the warehouse lair.

I closed my eyes, dragging my cheek against the stubble on Arthur’s face. His skin was scorching, and I felt burned, on fire, incinerated as he took me harder and harder until he stilled, and I felt him release inside me. He roared, and every muscle in his body tensed as he made me his—fully, wholly, finally.

I sucked in breath after breath, my body clamouring for oxygen, for the chance to recover. Arthur’s body sagged against me, pinning me so hard against the wall I knew I’d have scratches from the rough brick of the pit. My hands were still in his hair, tangled and knotted in the midnight strands.

I loved him. I loved Arthur more than life itself. His darkness and his lifestyle meant nothing compared to that. I loved him despite the malice in his soul. I loved him because of it. Not everyone was meant for a life of roses and summer days, all pretty petals and fragrant perfumes. Some were meant for a life of winter and thorns.

It didn’t mean they couldn’t have love.

Arthur kissed up my neck, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat that his fucking had induced. He still held my legs around his waist; his dick was still inside me, twitching and sending aftershocks of pleasure shooting up my spine.

My breathing had calmed by the time his searching lips found my mouth. His glasses were filthy with sweat and blood, and askew, but he still looked perfect to me. Still tasted like heaven as he kissed me until my lips were swollen and sore.

When he pulled away, his blue eyes were glued to mine. I wished I could read his mind. I wished he would tell me what he felt in his heart as he looked at me, unkempt but now his. But I knew not to push him too hard.

We were here. Together. He had let me breach his high, impenetrable walls. I knew it would take time to hammer through the rest. But I wasn’t fazed by the task. I was inspired. To know all of

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