(T/W: Blood, knives, EXTREMELY kinky content up ahead, so if you're not into knife play...yeah-
a/n: I will have two important questions for you guys at the end of the chapter, so be sure to answer!)
Chapter Thirty-One
"I don't like you, girlfriend."
Mykel reached forward and dabbed the length of Rannia's arm with a tissue to clean off excess blood. He pulled the tissue away, and both pairs of eyes fell to the wilted red wipe.
"The feeling is mutual," Rannia replied, casting her eyes off to the side. She tried to focus on the papers and random things lining the walls, but all fell captive to the presence of Mykel standing close to her, large hands fiddling with some medical tape. Her legs were spread open and she was seated on a counter near the first aid kit.
Beside them lay a bloody tray with tweezers and rubbing alcohol. The faint dim glow of the metal bullet lay along the blood sat along a red soaked towel. The overhead lights flickered and Mykel drew his gaze back to Rannia.
"The Amirs, they're criminal, you know?"
Rannia didn't have the energy in her to fake surprise. "Yeah," she nodded lazily. Her feline eyes blinked up at the man before her slowly. The faint pang of her injured arm rang faintly at the back of her mind, but she could do nothing but focus on the intensity Mykel exuded.
"I can't quite figure you out, girlfriend."
Rannia tilted her head to the side a little. "Well that's good isn't it?" She questioned. "Leave you guessing, hm?"
"No," Mykel replied. He shook his head slightly. "It's bad. You—"
He stepped forward a little, shuffling his hips forward so they sat between her spread legs. "You." He pressed a hand to her neck and pushed her back so her head was against the wall, his face hanging above her parted lips. "Why aren't you scared?"
Rannia's legs pressed together, closing in on his thin hips. His closeness- that heat, it was purely primal; her attraction to him, that's all it was. She could not help as her eyes fluttered for a moment, and her fingers longed to grip his shirt and pull him closer.
Feel his tongue across her racing pulse.
"Well, I'm not a brat, like you," she replied keenly. This time her hand did reach out and curl into his cotton shirt, pulling it taut against his back. "And I have this loving, doting little bitch at my beck and call, you see?" Mykel tensed against her, his fist tightening as her grin grew and grew. Her back arched against the hand to her neck, and she pressed forward, feeling as his fingers slowly pressed further and further against her vulnerable pulse. He could feel it; her reaction to his body. "I got into trouble with these big, bad men," her hand slowly drifted up his shirt, letting his lower abdomen become exposed to her greedy eyes. The taut bundle of muscles was tight and moving with his every breath. "He came for me, my prince. Like a little bitc—"
Her words were cut short and a gasp escaped her lips as cold metal was pressed to her waist. It didn't hurt, yet. It was only a warning. A knife laid against her skin, which was growing hotter and hotter by the second as he slid the knife up, eventually laying it flat against her pouty lips.
The threat it posed, and the fact that she knew he would never actually kill her with it thrilled her. Though he held the knife, she had the power. Her little bitch. Her little brat.
"You test me," Mykel snapped, his angry tone only making Rannia's core throb. They were both breathing heavily, their skin heated, eyes narrowed.
"I was only teasing," she whispered mockingly.
Mykel pressed the knife down harder on her lip, cutting slightly so a bit of red lined the sharpened metal. Rannia's heart raced, her mind fogged, but God—God she wanted more. She loved teasing him. She loved getting his reactions.
She loved how much it killed her to feel those things for that who she'd vowed to kill.
Slowly, she slid her tongue out and tasted her blood. Metallic, almost salty. The pink muscle slipped down the blade, not hard enough to cut into it, cleaning it all off. Her eyes fluttered closed as Mykel released a heavy breath.
From the way his hand was shaking slightly against her lip, she almost thought it a groan.
"I told my men I'd punish you for being a bad girl," Mykel grit out slowly. Rannia's legs tightened further, allowing her to hook her ankles around his back. He slowly removed the blade from her mouth and placed it back at their side. His hand loosened from around her neck and lay beside her hip. "You lost some blood but you'll live." He gripped her pants and flipped her around, carefully supporting her left side so she didn't lean on her injured arm. He pressed his hips forward into her ass, slowly pressing her into the counter. Rannia chewed on her lip and resisted a whimper.
What they had was carnal.
"Tell me, girlfriend," his hand laid against her clothed ass, slowly sliding down to her quivering thigh. Rannia couldn't help the nerves of anticipation racing through her body, "how many days have you made my life Hell?"
"None," she replied brattily, earning a pinch to her right ass cheek. She wiggled against him, earning a choked sounding noise from Mykel.
"Try fifteen," he said, hand starting to pull down her pants, leaving her underwear in place. His eyes watched hungrily as the skin of her ass was revealed to him. He pulled his hips back a little and gazed down at the wet patch soaking the underwear of her pussy, watching as it throbbed through the thin material, latched against her wet cunt. "But because of today," he raised a hand back and slapped her ass, erupting a whimper from her sore lips, "you get twenty, hm? Count for me, baby."
"One," Rannia mumbled, feeling the skin of her bare cheek heat from the spanking. He hit her again and her ovaries had never felt more fertile. "Two."
On the fifth hit her legs were shaking a little, but not from pain. Her eyes were tearing up from how badly she needed his cock to fill her, to slam into her relentlessly as punishment and pleasure. All he had to do was slide her panties aside and slip a few fingers in, that's all. Her lip trembled as he hit her a sixth time and she could feel her arousal starting to spill from the sides of her underwear.
Before the seventh, he hesitated. "If you can't take it--"
"Your brother does it better," she said. "Mm, when his cock fills me, he knows how to treat me. Hits me, spanks me, degrades me. You can't do that you fuck--"
He hit her harder, leaving her skin raw and stinging. Rannia cursed. "S-seven."
"Eight."
"Nine."
"Ten."
"Eleven."
Twelve came out muffled as she resisted a very loud moan.
Mykel chuckled quietly and went in for a thirteenth. "You're my little slut, aren't you? Moaning when I hit you."
"Mmmm," Rannia whined her breath catching as he hit her again. "Thirteen, please, oh my god--"
Again.
Again.
Again.
"You-- please, Mykel. Please! More, I can't take this anymore!" She was a whining mess at his touch, beneath his steady discipline. The dirty actions of their sins.
"You'll finish at twenty," Mykel said.
"S-sixteen! Fucking Hell, touch me, you brat, you idiot, oh my god." Rannia tried to slip a hand down to stimulate her clit, but Mykel's free arm stopped her.
"Take it like a good girl, I said," he repeated. He thrust his hips forward and let her feel just how much he wanted it too, just how much he was restraining himself from taking out his cock and fucking her so hard she couldn't spell.
"Now count."
His hand came down on her red skin once more, making her whimper out a short and desperate "seventeen". He rubbed the sore skin and Rannia's eyes started to line with tears.
She was so used to being able to get what she wanted.
"Eighteen," she mumbled. With her hands caught behind her back, her chest was pressed against the counter and her heavy breathing fanned out across the counter. Not in the farthest part of her mind did she pause to consider if it was a clean surface or not. "Nineteen."
She couldn't take it. Mykel was taking his sweet time going for the twentieth. She wanted him in her. She wanted his hands on her hips instead of her fucking ass, and she wanted to be able to touch herself and feel the relief.
Aching--that's how she felt. Aching.
It was a haze, it was in her lust fueled haze, she told herself. Mykel was fast, but she was faster. She pushed her ass back into his groin, making him loosen his grip on her arms. She turned heatedly and kicked him backwards with a foot to his stomach. The man went falling back into a conveniently placed chair. It skidded backwards with his weight, eventually coming to a stop when it hit the table behind him.
Mykel was in shock, staring at her. Her: pouty lips, red and swollen; eyes wet and hungry.
Yes, hungry. They raked over his body and she walked forward. His legs were spread so she laid herself in his lap, legs straddling him. Her cunt lay across his contained erection and slowly, with her arms on his shoulders, she lowered herself down and started rolling her hips against the bulge.
A breathy moan escaped her lips. In her bliss, any pain of her injury was forgotten in her mind. Mykel watched in silence as she rode him, her head lolling back to reveal her throat. The harsh gulp as she swallowed when her clit pressed into his jeans.
Mykel tried to raise his hands to her hips but she quickly swatted them away. "No...no touching," she gasped out breathily. It wasn't heaven with her on his lap, it was Hell. Hot, scathing burning along his skin. Sweat dotting his neck as he stopped himself from grabbing her and finishing what he'd started.
But the sight on her above him, the sight of her ordering him around...
His breath caught. When he looked at her, something in her eyes had changed. A glint. Danger.
He didn't have to look down to know what she'd done. There was a knife to his throat. In his haze--their haze, he hadn't noticed her grab it.
She was so close to ending his life. One cut. One slice. A little closer.
A little longer.
He groaned slightly, watching her with hooded eyes. "Is that what you want, girlfriend? To use me?"
She pressed her hips down and he let out a shaky breath. "Fucking Hell, Rannia. Use me." He met her stare with startling intensity. "Use me."
No. She swallowed, eyes running across his face. He was artwork. A broken masterpiece. Torn from a chamber of treasures and turned into a monster. But he was still beautiful.
She lifted the knife to under his chin, raising his head. She could see as his adam apple bobbed.
He was still a beast.
And right now, that beast was hers.
Power flowed through her veins as she leaned forward slowly and slowly licked up his neck, not removing the blade from his skin once. His breathing shuddered and she lived for it.
This man, he couldn't hurt the ones she loved, could he? She kissed under his ear and bit on his earlobe, rolling it between two teeth. So weak.
She trailed one hand up his stomach under his shirt, feeling along the hard ridges of muscle and flesh. How he flexed beneath her touch and how burning his body was. Burning for her.
Tender.
Rannia had been tender a few times before in her life, but those fleeting moments were gifts of the past.
Dainty fingers. She reached his chest and leaned back a little, watching his body move. He was carved for her, he was carved for her demise.
So many scars littered his tethered skin, so many stories of past fights and battles, of pain and self loathing. Her fingers drifted to an untouched patch of skin beneath his left pectoral, and her eyes followed. Mykel watched her mind turn behind her eyes, unable to understand anything through the whirlwind and allowing himself to be sucked up all the same.
Pierce his heart.
Her mind raged. Her mind was fury. Her mind was everything but the tenderness to her touch, anything but the way she saw his pain and understood it. Understood that no one could ever truly understand it.
"I will use you," Rannia whispered lightly, slowly moving the knife to where her other hand lay on his chest. Her lips, swollen from the cut, were wetted by a flash of her tongue.
She pressed the blade into his skin slightly, not cutting deep enough to hurt. And she drew a line.
Blood.
Dark red started to bleed from the small incision followed by the path of her blade.
Human, blood, and bone.
She leaned forward and kissed the wound she'd made, hearing as he sucked in a breath at her feather-light touch.
When had she ever been so tender?
"This one, this one is mine," she said, addressing her cut on his body. She looked down to see a treacherous drop of blood had run down his body. She dipped her head to where it had rolled, some way far down his stomach, stuck out her tongue and licked all the way up his body. When she was even level to him again, that lust had returned. Gone was the tenderness as her lips caressed the sweet taste of his blood. She ran her tongue along her teeth to collect it all.
"Submissive looks good on you," Rannia commented lazily. Her hand ran down his body to his pants, resting above his untreated bulge, slowly pulling down the waistband to reveal his hair-spattered loins. Once released, his dick sprung up tall, bouncing against his stomach. Rannia took it into her hand and stroked it slowly, feeling it pulse beneath her touch. Mykel's breath caught. His gaze was dangerously sinister, cold, hard, callous, but not once did he move to stop her.
"Can you take me?" She questioned lightly. She raised her hips above his and positioned herself above his throbbing cock. Her fingers stroked the bulging veins and he watched as she slipped the thin layer of underwear aside and revealed her soaking cunt to his stare. "Take me slow, hm?" They had bated breaths as his head was pressed against her folds, at the entrance, yet not going in. She rolled her hips a bit, lubricating him with her arousal.
With a finger rolling across her clit, she sunk down. And slowly, she bounced herself up and down, pleasuring herself with her finger, and fucking him as he watched her with lusty, predatory eyes.
Fucking him, heated breaths, fluttering lashes, slapping of skin on skin. She looked the man she hated with fondness, and he held the girl he wanted gone, close.
It was simple, really: their condition.
Hell did not always wait for death.
(a/n:
1) How often would ideal updates for THIS book be? I need ideas so I can aim for something
2) I would really like to change the cover of this book. It's just not cutting it. If you find any good/fitting pictures on pinterest etc., feel free to send me them on my Instagram @bobrossofwriting OR email me at endoraveles@gmail.com
Thank you! I hope my kinky ass wasn't too much for yall this time lmao)