legs. I gasp as he runs his erection along my thigh, his fingers tightening around my throat.
“How many nights have you touched yourself thinking of me, closed your eyes and thought of me while your fiancé was fucking you?”
“Every night,” I hiss, clawing at every part of him to get him closer, “every night.” He pauses his assault, glaring down at me.
“You’re right. You’re sick. This, we, are fucking sick. And it isn’t going to end the way you want it to,” he seethes.
“I know,” I gasp as he presses a finger inside me, his grip on my neck tightening as I hoarsely cry his name. I’m soaked, so much so that I feel his cock twitch through his slacks when he finds me needy.
Lightning flashes behind the open front door as he finger fucks me ruthlessly while the thunder rolls in. I push off his jacket while he drinks from my neck. Slowly, he lifts his head as thirst pools in his fiery depths while he crowds me, our eyes connecting as he unbuckles his belt, jerking his cock from his pants while I yank off his tie. His hands cover me, mapping my body, his touch damning, branding as I rip at his shirt.
He stops my movements, flattening me to the table with his palm as he runs the head of his cock through my slit before he drives into me, burying himself in one thrust. Once locked, he hangs his head and curses as I cry out, reaching for him.
And then he’s moving, his mouth taunting me with a kiss he refuses to give as he wildly fucks me, savage and without care, his anger unyielding. His strokes are unforgiving as his face twists between anguish and rage. Lust swallows me whole as I call out to him again and again, begging somewhere between heaven and hell. The slapping of skin, our connection consumes me whole, fueling my desire as I start to shake with the build. He pulls back, eyes lit, and thrusts into me to the hilt, his hands covering my breasts, his need taking over. He angles his hips striking along my walls, restraining me with just the pressure of his palm.
“Tobias,” I call out, as he tears into me, possessed by anger while giving into us.
He groans as he finally releases me, pushing my thighs wider as he drives in. He leans over, gripping my neck and lifting me, his grunts and exhales hitting my lips. Our mouths collide, his tongue diving deep as he kisses me and kisses me. I shudder around him, my core clenching as I moan my release into our kiss. My orgasm seems to unleash him as he fucks me deep, pinning my hands beside my head. Inching the table forward with each thrust. I take his brutal licks because it’s what he needs and what I want. His anger, his passion, the proof of life that still beats in his chest. His regret and resentment for the love I still harbor for both the man and the monster that dwells inside him.
It’s possession and reclaiming. It’s too much of everything he can’t get past and can’t forgive either of us for. Flickers of torment cross his features as pained grunts escape him.
“We are nothing,” his voice cracks with his lie.
“You love me,” I counter. “You still love me.”
He roars as he comes, forehead pressed to mine before spilling the rest of himself on the table between us. Chest heaving, he backs away, while jerking up his pants. The porch light blankets us in light as he retreats, his face going ashen as he gathers his jacket and the state I’m in—torn, bitten, and flushed from my orgasm. His face twists in anguish before he hangs his head at the threshold of the door.
I gather myself from the table. My limbs still shaking, but I manage to keep my voice steady. “It takes a queen to love and understand a king. Did you think this would break me? You made me!”
His silence is answer enough.
“You really thought that would do it? Would change what I feel for you and get me out of your system? You should know better than that, you fucking fool!” I wrap myself in the ruined silk.
He palms his mouth, frozen on the doorstep, unshed tears in his panic-filled eyes, a plea on his lips when he speaks. “Please leave, Cecelia. I can’t give you what you want.” Shadows of our undoing sneak in,