Dragging her down the hallway, her body grew heavy as she tried to dig her soles into the floor and I rolled my eyes. As if I couldn't just throw her over my shoulder. Her breaths were inconsistent and sharp. Ah. Music to my ears.
She whimpered, a pathetic sound, but it fed my ego. The way my cock was throbbing was alarming at her sight.
Kyle pushed open the door to the penthouse. She resisted again but that just started to get on my nerves and shoved her inside.
Like I said, there was a method to my lunacy.
And soon, she would come to understand.
In the end, they always do.
"I still don't think-" I rolled my eyes. And removed the shades.
"I don't care about what you think, Kyle. Suck it up, and do as you're told. Your opinions are about as useful as nothing."
His face turned red, but he bit his tongue. I could almost see the gears turning in his head, struggling to come up with a retort that wouldn't get him in deeper trouble.
Kyle and I shared a deep history. Something deeper than blood, but sometimes, he loved getting on my nerves.
Something wrapped around my hand and I realised my little bird was trying to yank herself from my grip, which only made me tighten my hold on her wrist.
She was a pitiful sight, and I loved it.
I looked down at her, taking in her appearance. A thin sweater hung loosely on her frail frame, doing nothing to hide the tremors of fear coursing through her body. Her pants were wrinkled and stained. Her tear-stained face was flushed, with red ears and neck. Her hair was a tangled mess, wild and unkempt as if she'd been hit by a storm.
And maybe she had.
I grasped I liked her this way. Vulnerable. Broken. It was like seeing a beautiful painting in the process of being destroyed. There was a raw, unfiltered honesty to her in this state, stripped of any pretence.
She was a canvas of hopelessness, and I was the artist holding the brush.
Her eyes, wide with terror, darted around the place, looking for an escape that didn't exist. She was trapped, and she knew it.
"Settle down," I murmured, yanking her close. "You're not going anywhere, ptichka. Not until I say so." She whimpered. I leaned in closer, savouring the moment. She was mine to mould, to break, to rebuild as I saw fit. "Stick to the script, and maybe we'll get through this without you trying to act smart every five minutes."
She was scared and timid, a far cry from the fireball I remembered her to be. She had this flame within her, this defiance that intrigued me. But now, she was just a shadow of something unalike, and it fascinated me differently.
Curiosity gripped me. Would she make the same expression if I showed her my world? Like the one she made finding me fucking a woman. Was she excited? Aroused? Or... scared?
She did seem a bit shaken, and that-the way my cock only hardened at her sight-should be concerning. Maybe I wanted to devour her right there.
My grip tightened on her wrist, and I felt her pulse quicken beneath my fingers. She was like a bird with broken wings, fragile and delicate, but still beautiful.
"Tell me," I whispered, my lips grazing her ear. "What I want to hear."
She didn't answer, but her trembling was answer enough. I could see the confusion in her eyes, the mix of emotions she couldn't quite hide. And it thrilled me.
I wanted to push her further, to see just how deep her fear ran. To see if there was a spark of the old her still left, buried beneath the terror. Or if she was truly broken, a blank slate for me to write my sins upon.
Maybe I wanted to devour her right now too.
My eyes raked over her face and her gaze lowered, taking in every detail. Her tear-streaked cheeks, the way her lower lip quivered with each shaky breath, her wide eyes. It was hallucinogenic.
I let my gaze travel lower, lingering on the curve of her neck, where her pulse beat erratically beneath her skin. I could almost taste the fear in her, a tantalizing flavour that made my blood surge with dark excitement. And my demon jumped up and down like a fucking child.
Her thin sweater clung to her, outlining her squeezable breasts. I imagined tearing it off, exposing the soft skin beneath. I wondered how she would react, how her body would respond to my touch. Would she shiver in fear, or perhaps there would be a hint of something else? Something darker, more primal?
My thoughts grew more perverted, lewd even. I imagined her whimpering beneath me.
I leaned in closer, my breath hot against her ear. "Do you know what you do to me, ptichka?" I whispered. "The way you look right now... it's driving me wild."
"Leave me- "
She tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip, relishing the way her body trembled against mine. "Don't be scared," I continued, my lips grazing her earlobe. "Or maybe do. I like it when you're scared."
My free hand trailed down her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise under my touch. I reached her waist, pulling her even closer, pressing her against me. "I wonder," I murmured, "how you'd look with those tear-stained cheeks and flushed skin, but with a different kind of expression. Would you still be as beautiful?"
Her whimper was a melody to my ears.
And then my gaze shifted to her lips. Trembling, pale, and then pink. Would they turn red if I bit them? There was only one way to find out.
Fisting her hair, I pulled her mouth to mine.
Her gasp of surprise was muffled as I crashed my lips against hers. The softness of her lips contrasted with the harshness of my grip, and I felt a rush of power surge through me. Her taste was intoxicating, a blend of fear and something sweet, something I wanted to consume entirely.
I bit down, hard enough to draw a gasp, maybe even a whimper. Her lips reddened under the pressure, just as I imagined. I could feel her body tense, her hands pushing against me, trying to resist. But her resistance only fueled my desire.
I pulled back slightly, just enough to see her reaction. Her lips were now a vivid shade of red, swollen from the force of my kiss. There was a fire in her eyes, a flicker of that girl who refused to sleep with me. It was frightening, and I wanted more.
I tightened my grip on her hair, forcing her mouth against mine once again. This wasn't enough. Not even a one per cent. I kissed her again, ferociously this time.
For a moment she was still, still processing and that was enough for me to have her all to myself. And just then she bounced back like a hurricane. Adorable. Fucking amusing.
My grip only tightened as she thrashed. I underestimated her though, her fists punched my chest comically and when that wasn't enough. She bit me. I liked it even more.
I let her sink her teeth into my lips and bleed me. Fuck. This woman was driving me near the edge. As if a little bit of blood would scare me. My hands found the back of her neck, fisting her soft locks and pulled her mouth closer to mine and bit her tongue.
She gasped. I grinned forcing her lips part and pushing my tongue into her mouth.
She whimpered. I thrived.
I devoured her, tasting the sweetness of her fear and the bitterness of her defiance. Insatiable hunger consumed me, a dark desire that demanded more, always more. I tilted my head sucking her.
I was so indulged, so driven to the edge, out of control. Something I never was. My mind swirled with dark thoughts, fantasies of breaking her completely, of making her mine in every twisted sense. I wanted to consume her, body and soul, to make her understand the depth of my obsession. Obsession?
Just when I thought I had her, she stomped on my foot. The action slightly took me off-guard, and she drove her knee where the sun didn't shine. I doubled over, a grunt escaping my lips, and I grinned as she scrambled out of my hold, and pushed me back. I hardly budged, but it was enough for her to run to the door.
Before Kyle could run after her, I stopped him. "Let her be," I grinned, wiping the blood off my lips with the pad of my thumb. "I'll chase my little bird."
She ran.
So, my little bird preferred a chase before I dragged her back in here and showed her how much of a monster I was.