Vengeful Soul by Emma Creed

My blood burns like fire under my skin. My mind’s exhausted from trying to convince myself that I don’t give a fuck about her.

I’m Brax-fucking-Marshall, I’m incapable of caring about anyone.

I’m also fucking lying to myself.

My lips command hers, sucking her deeper into my darkness while her fingers tug at my hair, inviting me to take more.

She feels so fuckin’ incredible beneath me, her lips spilling tiny breaths and delicate moans between mine.

Those perfect little tits press against my chest with only fabric separating us. It ain’t enough though, I need more.

Reaching over my back, I pull my T-shirt over my head, and her hands immediately slide onto my chest. The touch of her dainty fingers exploring my skin, how they soothe over my scars and press into my muscles shoots a torturous tingle through my spine.

I fist the cotton she’s wearing as I push it up her tight stomach, then lowering my head, I paint a long trail with my tongue over her warm, smooth skin.

Gracie lets out a sweet seductive moan when I expose her round tits and crush one inside my palm.

I’ve never seen the point in taking my time on a woman before, but with Gracie, I want to appreciate every little thing. The taste of strawberries on her skin, the needy little sounds she hums for me. I want it all.

When my tongue finds her mouth, I snatch her bottom lip between my teeth and bite. It would be so easy to make her bleed, to taste her between my lips and hear her yelp, but angry as this girl gets me, I’ve come to realize that I don’t crave her pain. All I want to do is protect her.

I keep her intact, releasing her from my bite and placing a gentle dab of my lips where I’ve made hers swell.

“You’re bad news for a man like me, Gracie,” I growl when I feel her hand slip under the waistband of my boxers.

“Don’t make me stop.” Her warm whisper touches the skin just below my ear, forcing me to groan like I’m in fucking pain. I grip a handful of her hair when her fingers wrap around me, and I swear I’m gonna come right inside her delicate soft palm when she starts to stroke me.

I focus, taking deep breaths to steady my composure before I start to thrust myself in and out of her tight little fist.

This is happening, I’ve battled it ever since the little bitch spat in my face, maybe even before that. It’s been days but it feels like a lifetime of frustration, and I can’t hold it off anymore.

Besides, I don’t think I could stop her even if I wanted to. Gracie Scott seems to drain all the strength out of me, tossing it out of sight along with my self-control.

“I feel safe with you, Brax,” she breathes into my ear, and her confession splits me in two.

“You are safe with me. I’d never let anyone hurt you. Ever.” I manage to pull my lips away from her skin to tell her that, and I mean every fuckin’ word. Doesn’t stop me regretting telling her that though. And I feel the weakness spread through me like fucking cancer.

Gracie nods her head back at me, her green eyes wide and wild. I know what she wants from me. She doesn’t just want comfort. She wants to be fucked. Boyfriend and fuck up of our situation be damned.

My hand slips down her body until it's touching between her legs, and I feel how ready she is through the cotton fabric she’s wearing. Ever since I saw that pretty pussy in the shower, I’ve wanted to touch it. I’ve lost sleep thinking about how it’ll taste on my tongue, and how tight it would feel taking me inside it. She fidgets her hips, stealing more pressure from my fingers, and I raise my eyes up to hers so I can absorb the desperation in them for my own sick pleasure.

I can’t remember the last time I thought something was beautiful, I gave up trying to find any good in the world years ago. But seeing her laid out in front of me, her lips thick and swollen from mine and her pussy pulsing beneath my fingers, I know now that it exists. Even in this cruel, wicked world.

A better man would stop, walk away and take a long cold shower.

But I ain’t a better man. I’m the worst of them.

I clutch at her panties and rip them down her thighs, before cupping my hand between her legs and crushing her in my palm as I tease her tight, soaked entrance with the tip of my finger. Her hand fumbles with my boxers, trying desperately to push them off my ass until my cock lands on her stomach with a heavy thump. She keeps on working me, soft pumps through her fist that steadily guide me closer to where she really wants to feel me.

But she’s not the one in control here.

Snatching her hand away, I pin it deep into the mattress above her head. My grip on her wrist so tight I can feel her pulse racing against the arch of my hand.

“Bad news, Gracie,” I warn her one last time, and without giving myself any chance to back out, I thrust my cock all the way inside her.

The moan she makes as I fill her sounds like the devil summoning me. And her cunt is every bit as tight as I imagined it would be. It grips around me as I still myself inside her, I can feel every pulse and quiver her body makes.

I keep my focus on her pretty green eyes. I've seen almost every emotion inside them over the past few days. Grief, fear, sadness. This, without a doubt, is my favorite. Pleasure looks perfect on her. And it don’t matter how hard I try to see the bad in what we’re doing, everything about this feels fucking right. My hands wrapped in hers. Her body beneath mine, the way I fit inside her, like her pussy was made for me. I’ve never felt a rush like it before, not even with blood on my hands and death on my conscience.

For a short moment, I even wonder if maybe Gracie could be the end of all my suffering.

I’m torturing myself because this is only borrowed. The time will come when I have to give her back. For her own good and mine I’ll return her to the privileged life she came from, and back to her sorry assed boyfriend.

Men like me aren’t designed to love. I’ve seen too much hate and caused too much destruction.

And for the first time in my life, I find myself wishing that I could be a different person.

One worthy of keeping her.

She deserves so much more than me, and knowing that I’d only lead her into the darkness, I savor every second of what’s happening between us. I’m conning us both. For as long as this is gonna last, letting us believe that I could be capable of loving her. That my heart could actually feel anything other than hatred.

And it hurts like hell knowing that tomorrow I’m gonna have to turn cold on her.

I pull her wrists together and hold them in one hand so my other can take hold of her jaw, I squeeze her cheeks together, and force her to listen to what I have to say.

I’ll only speak it once. There will be no evidence of it for either of us after. Just a fucking memory.

“I wish things were different,” I admit, keeping my voice stern, I’m showing her enough of my weakness. When she tries to respond I press my finger over her lips, and I feel my heart crack open when she kisses it.

She has no idea what she’s doing to me. If she does, she’s playing a wicked game. And as I continue to grind my hips against hers, I decide that if it is a game she’s playing, I might just let her win.

Her body freezes beneath me, my name coming from her lips as her pussy throbs around my cock. Somehow her hands struggle out of my grip, scratching at my skin and digging into my back. And for a few seconds, she’s completely consumed by me… mine.

That comfort causes me to lose concentration. My own body tensing and my release quickly following hers.

I let my head fall into her neck, hissing when I feel myself pump inside her pussy, our heart beats thumping to the same rhythm.

I want to keep her. I want to ride into my club tomorrow morning with her on the back of my bike and lay a claim on her.

But what I want doesn’t matter, nor does the fact that I’m the one inside her right now, my cum leaking out of her and onto my sheets.

Gracie Scott isn’t mine. She has a life, she has a boyfriend, and as soon as she is out of all this shit… she’ll go back to them.

I can’t afford for her to ruin me. I won’t give her another slice of my soul, not when all I have left of it is already in tatters.

I look down at her and let my lips touch hers one last time, I engrave how they feel into my memory because I know that I can’t give in to the temptation of them again.

She holds onto me tightly, looking back at me like she’s trying to read the thoughts in my head. She has no idea what she’d be getting herself into with me. Somewhere in between my kidnapping her and fucking her she’s stopped seeing the danger in me.

But I know it’s still there festering inside, and all I can do for her is protect her from it all. Because I meant every word of my promise. I won’t let anyone hurt her, ever.