God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3) by Rina Kent

My sluggish movements pick up in speed, but not immediately. There was a moment, one single foolish moment where my eyes widened for a completely different reason than fear.

Or being appalled.

For a second, I wanted to see if he’ll make good on his threat.

There’s definitely something wrong with me. I blame my drunk brain’s delayed response. That’s the only reason.

There couldn’t possibly be anything else.

My licks and sucks are tentative at best, but I try to go faster, thinking maybe that will do the trick.

The problem is that he’s really big; I haven’t even gotten all of him in, and my jaw aches.

“You’ve never sucked cock before, have you?” His voice is dark with lust.

My cheeks heat, and I hope he thinks it’s because of my lack of air and not actually shame.

“Such an innocent little virgin with a dangerous kink.” He mobilizes me with my hair. “I’ll show you how you please me, how you open your mouth for me when I tell you to. You’ll offer me this hole and any other hole I want to stick my cock into.”

He drives in with a raw power that robs me of air.

“Open your mouth wider and stick out your tongue.”

The moment I do, it’s like I’ve unleashed a beast. Using my tongue for friction, he hits the back of my throat, over and over, but when I’m about to gag, he pulls out, giving me some air before he thrusts back in again.

He uses my mouth like it’s his custom-made hole, pressing me into the mattress, holding me in place with his merciless grip on my hair.

“Your mouth is made for fucking.” He slides all the way out again. “So hot and wet and pliant.” Thrust. “I think you have an oral fixation. Not only do you like kissing, but you also take my cock so well at the back of your throat. You’ll let me stuff this mouth with my cum and then swallow every drop, won’t you?”

My only reply is grabbing him by the jacket, nails digging into the leather.

“Do you want more, my greedy little virgin?” He pounds in and out of my mouth. “I want more, too. I want to corrupt, tarnish, and ruin you so deeply, no one will recognize you when I’m done with you. Not even your fucking prince.”

And then he thrusts so wildly, I think I’ll black out.

I’ve never experienced this level of intensity. Of savage claim.

It’s like he can’t touch me hard enough, or engrave himself inside me deep enough.

Jeremy is a man who takes unapologetically, destroys ruthlessly, then walks away silently.

He’s a true monster who knows exactly what he wants. And apparently, right now, what he wants is to ruin me.

For some reason, I like that unapologetic part of him, the assertiveness in his actions. The take-it-or-leave-it attitude.

Maybe because I lack it when it matters the most—when I have to make decisions about myself.

Jeremy fucks my mouth like he has a grudge against it and me. He rams in and out at a speed I can’t keep up with.

Then he pulls out and I blink when hot spurts of his cum cover my face, sprinkling on my eyes, my cheeks, nose, lips, and neck.

Everywhere.

He reaches out a thumb, gathers his cum, and slides it inside my mouth with his middle and ring finger.

The motion is erotic and makes my legs clench, or maybe it’s the attentive way he watches me swallow every drop. Sucking his fingers clean.

The more appreciation he shows, the more diligent I become.

A gruff sound leaves his throat as he taps my lips one final time. “I knew you had an oral fixation.”

He leans over and brushes his lips against mine.

It’s a small kiss, way too soft compared to everything he’s done. Actually, the softest thing he’s done.

But then he bites my lower lip and I gasp when a metallic taste explodes in my mouth.

Jeremy licks it, then taps his own bite that I gave him. “Next time, I’ll draw your virgin blood.”

“There will be a next time?” I ask, a little scared, a little excited.

“Oh, there will be a next time.” He strokes my hair back. “You’ll be mine to do with as I please.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Are you going to have sex with me?”

“I won’t have sex with you, Cecily. I will fuck you.”

I slowly close my eyes, letting a tear loose. I’m not sure what type of tear it is.

A resignation tear probably.

I don’t wait for him to leave as I let my body relax, wishing the dream would end.

Wishing the dream would never end.

Wishing this wasn’t a dream.





12





JEREMY





I don’t know how long I stand at the side of Cecily’s bed.

All I’m sure of is that I remain here, unmoving, watching, observing, long after she falls back asleep with tears rimming her eyes.

I reach out a thumb and wipe away those tears, smear them on the tiny freckles, then crush them between my fingers.

She’s probably sad that it’s not her fucker of a prince who came to claim her in the middle of the night.

Now that she’s asleep, she looks like the personification of inward innocence mixed with a poor relationship with her sensory world.

The worst relationship.