“You don’t have to be afraid…” He mumbled to her mouth, nearly breaking their kiss. She could feel his erection through the thin layer of denim of his jeans, hot and hard. It felt huge. Every time he ground it against her she flinched.
“I am afraid… You scare me…” She was telling the truth. Her fear was slowly evaporating, but nearly everything he said or did made it hitch up several knots again. He leaned his elbows to both sides of her body.
“You’re a smart girl. I’m afraid of me sometimes. But I promise, you have no reason to be scared anymore. I’m not going to hurt you.” She could tell from the look in his eyes he was telling the truth.
“I’m just going to kiss you…” He leaned closer and started planting small kisses to her forehead, moving slowly lower.
“And touch you…” His hands joined with her body once again, now delving between her thighs, parting her folds.
“You’re wet already… That’s good… I’m going to make you scream now.”
She was about to tell him that he could stop this stupid game and get on with it, when one of his fingers slid inside of her. It made her muscles spasm and constrict, and when she felt his other fingers massage her clitoris she knew she was going to give him what he wanted. There was no way she could endure this without screaming.
“Oh, God…” Her hands grasped his shoulders.
“That’s it… Sounds much better already…” He withdrew his hand and licked his fingers clean.
“Tastes better, too.” She couldn’t stop disappointed whimper that escaped from her lips.
“I told you I was going to make you beg first,” he said and winked.
“And I’m wearing too many clothes…”
She whimpered again when he stood up and took off his tattered T-shirt. Sight of his bare skin, still glistening from the sweat and blood, muscles rippling underneath, made her stomach knot. She rubbed her thighs together, wanting to finish herself what he had started. He shook his head and parted her legs again.
“All you have to do is ask.” He started unbuttoning his jeans, revealing a patch of coarse dark hair. Her fingers wandered over her heated skin, searching for the right place, getting closer and closer of her moist center. Anger flared on his face.
“I will chop them off if you do it.” This time claws didn’t just make a brief appearance. They tore their way out from his left hand. He grabbed her wrist with his right hand. Cold metal slid over her fingers. She couldn’t close her eyes.
“I will start from your pinkie…” Small nick, not deep enough to break the skin.
“And keep going… One after another…” She was trembling when he released her hand and let his claws slide back in.
“But I won’t have to do it. Right?” He purred shrugging off his jeans. He kneeled between her legs and smirked.
“You like it rough… You’re soaking up the sheets, little one…”
“What’s wrong with me?” She moaned. He was right. She had been trembling when he told her he was going to cut off her fingers. That trembling had nothing to do with fear. She had almost wanted him to do it. Just to feel his touch again.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. Absolutely nothing.” His fingers were once more working inside of her. He wasn’t seeking her eyes, but kept his gaze in his task, distant smile on his face.
“You’re so tight. And clean. Are you a virgin, Marie? I bet you are. Can’t smell anybody else on you…” His murmurs broke to incoherent mumbling when it reached her ears. She could hear only her own ragged breathing and heart pounding. She was grasping the sheets and biting her lower lip. Just a little more. Little more pressure, few more flicks over her clit, and it would be over. She would fall to pieces. Just a few more… And his hand retreated.
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