Page 63 of Shattered In Darkness

My voice shakes. “You ever wish you could just…disappear? Like, poof. Gone. Nobody can find you?”

He grunts and squeezes my waist. “Sometimes. But then I remember you’re next door. I can always find you, Lola. I’d hunt you down if you ever tried to run.”

It should scare me, but it feels like a blanket. Heavy, soft, wrapped around all my dark edges. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Sometimes I wish you’d just steal me. I wish you’d just take me and never bring me back.”

He turns. I feel his eyes on me, even in the dark. That wolf look, like he sees right through every lie I ever told.

“Nobody’s ever gonna take you but me.” His voice is molten, low. “You know that, right?”

My breath skips. I want to cry or laugh or scream. Instead, I roll up and straddle his thigh. My hips grind down slow, shaky, desperate. I don’t care. I want him to see.

His hands grip my hips. “What are you doing, Bambi?”

I smirk, even though my hands are trembling. “Shutting you up. You think too much.”

I kiss him. It’s not polite. Not sweet. It’s a crash of mouth to mouth; I want to eat him, bruise him, lose myself for a second. He moans, deep in his chest, and fuck, I feel it everywhere.

I don’t stop. I don’t pull away. I kiss him like he’s air and I’m drowning.

He gives in. He always does. His kiss is hard and hungry. I let him take it. I want him to take it. His hands are all over; big, rough, moving fast, moving everywhere. I climb onto his lap and fully straddle him.

Brody yanks my shirt up. He watches the way my tits bounce free, his eyes feral. Greedy. He palms my tits, both hands, squeezing like he’s never going to get enough. My nipples harden under his touch, tight and stinging. It’s all I can do not to whimper out loud.

“You sure?” Brody murmurs, just a flicker of sound against my ear. His thumb circles my nipple, not gentle, not waiting for permission. I grind down on his lap. His cock is rock hard under his boxers, thick and pressed up against me. Every time I move, I feel the whole length of him. All I want is to get closer.

He tilts his head, watches my eyes, like he’s reading every secret I try to swallow down. “Does it feel good, Bambi?”

I nod. I can’t talk. The words are melting. I lean forward and kiss him, begging him to keep going. I want him to ruin me. I want him to break me open and leave marks all over my skin.

His hands slip down, grab my ass, fingers digging in so hard it hurts. "Keep grinding," he whispers. I rock my hips against his cock. I love the way he loses control when I do it. I love the growl at the back of his throat, the way he shudders underneath me.

Brody pushes my sleep shorts down to my knees. My panties are soaked. He stares at the wet spot, then at me, smirking. “You’re filthy, you know that?”

He slides two fingers along the crotch of my panties, rubs the fabric right against my clit. I bite my fist to keep from screaming. My body goes wild. Legs shaking, hips jerking, cunt pulsing for more.

“Take ‘em off,” he says, his voice barely human.

I do it. I kick the shorts and panties away. Now I’m straddling him bare. The head of his cock is pressed up against my pussy, and I grab it and rub it along myself, slow. Just the friction. I almost lose it, right there.

He groans. “Fuck. You feel that, Bambi? That’s how much I want to be inside you.”

I want him, too. So bad I’m going to die from it. I open my legs wider, roll my hips on his cock, tip to base, over and over. My tits bounce with every movement. He latches onto one, sucks hard. It hurts and I love it. I’m shaking so much I can barely think.

Every time I move, every roll of my hips, the skin of his cock drags over me. It hits just right, right where I want it, right where I ache the most.

His hands close around my tits, hard, greedy, not gentle at all. I whimper and arch my chest into his grip. I want him to be rough, want him to leave marks, want to feel the aftershocks every time I look in a mirror.

“Good girl,” he growls.

He moves me faster, like a doll, like something he owns. I let him. I want to be owned. I want to be seen this way, desperate, ruined, grinding my pussy wet and open on his cock like I need it more than air. My thighs burn from the effort. I don’t care. I want to be good for him. I want to impress him. I want him to want me more than anyone else in the fucking world.

“You look so fucking pretty, Bambi,” he says, eyes gleaming in the blue dark of the room. Hands tight on my waist, he holds me exactly where he wants. “Nobody gets to see you like this. Just me.”

I nod, head fuzzy, mouth open. I can’t talk. It’s too much. I am losing myself. It should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. I want him to know exactly how wet he makes me.

His cock rubs against my clit. Over and over. It’s torture, sweet and endless. I claw at his chest. He likes it, I can tell. It makes him shove his hips up, grinding harder, making me ride him like a filthy little slut.

He jerks my hair with his other hand, yanks my head back so I have to look at him. His mouth wears a dark smirk, eyes black with want. “Look at you,” he growls. “So fucking desperate. My filthy girl.”