Page 59 of Wild Heart
His growl…
His body swelling inside of mine…
It was all right there. Allmine.
A sob ripped from my throat, and he pulled his fingers from my mouth to wrap them around my cock. Unsurpassed need filled the space between my lungs, and then I was coming across his fingers, gasping for air.
“Suck,” he ordered and shoved those fingers right back in my mouth. My ass pulsed around him, eyes heavy as I sucked my come from his fingers.
“Good boy,” he whispered. “Now give Papa a taste.”
Both hands on his wrist, I tugged his fingers from my mouth just long enough for him to press his lips to mine. His hips jerked when he got his first taste of my pleasure.
I bore down when his release pumped into me. Groaning into my mouth, he held me so tight, my knees came off the dresser. We stayed like that for a few breathless moments, and he pulled his lip from mine just to whisper soft words into my ear. I didn’t really hear any of them, but I was happy just to revel in the sound of his voice.
Comfort unlike anything I’ve ever felt hummed beneath my skin, and with him wrapped around me like this, I felt more like myself than I did when I was alone.
Was this what peace felt like? Or was I just a little co-dependent?
Both,probably.
My hole pulsed when he pulled free, and I felt the warmth of his come as it slipped past my rim and ran down my inner thigh.
An unhappy sound touched my eyes, and he used two fingers to shove it back up inside me.
“You keep that in there,” he ordered, and I grinned.
ChapterSeventeen
Ivan
The first few men I’d beaten were just proxies for my father, and I realized then how fucking simple it was—the line between monsters and those who created them.
My lust for violence had come from my own wounds. Soaked with blood and stained with sin, I craved it from the start, and was greedy for a taste of the pain as it left another man’s body.
My hunger kept me out of the ring I’d built. When I fought someone, it was with the heady understanding that they were likely about to die, and I sure as fuck didn’t send just anyone to hell. I looked a man in the eye before robbing him of life, and I made certain that where I was sending him was where he deserved to be.
The eyes I looked into now were round with pain, rattling with false bravery and badly disguised fear. Beneath my palm, I felt the tunnel of his throat convulse as he struggled against his own breath. Panic and adrenaline shocked his body like high currents of electricity, making him quake so intensely the metal chair he was tied to slid across the concrete ground.
Blood curved down the edge of my face, catching on the slope of my jaw before falling to the floor in steady drops.
Plop.
Plop.
Plop.
“You put a mark on me,dolboyob.”
His chin bulged forward, lips a pale blue as they parted. Beneath my thumb, his windpipe gave way, and I brought my face close to his.
“My blood belongs to my boy,” I said. “And you tried to take it as your own.”
The strain in his muscles seized, and like a balloon, he deflated, going limp beneath my grip. A set of gaunt, barren eyes were forever fixed upon my face.
I grinned.
Blood humming, my chest filled with a satisfaction so potent, I felt it in the thickest of my bones.
