Beauty, a Hate Story the End

“I’m so sorry about Nikolai,” I said after a few moments. “I know he was important to you.” Just as I’d wanted to kill Lucia, Anteros had wanted to kill Nikolai. Neither of us had expected Crazy A, obviously. Now Nikolai was out there, most likely plotting our deaths. That wasn’t what bothered me, though, it was that Anteros hadn’t gotten his closure.

“I don’t want to talk about him now.” The finger at my nipple stopped circling, his voice hardened.

I took the hint.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I purred, rolling over on his chest. With a goofy grin, I lifted the Henley up, revealing the eight-pack beneath. My smile fell when I noticed his hand.

“Oh my God,” I gasped. A long, deep gash marked the center of his palm. The very same hand cupped my jaw, bringing my gaze back to his. “I would cut myself a thousand times if it meant I got to see the face you make when you come,” he said, wry smile twisting his cheek, making my abdomen clench.

“You don’t need to cut yourself to see it,” I said, crawling up his chest. “You should know by now you can just look at me and I’ll melt into a puddle.”

“I don’t want you in a puddle.” He gripped my ass, tugging me up his body. Suddenly we were both sitting up and I was on his lap, hard cock a rod at my ass. “I want you begging.” He kissed my shoulder, trailing a leisurely path of fire down my arm. I wrapped both around his neck as he bit my shoulder and a sting of pain shot through me, my gasp transforming into a sigh.

“I want you screaming,” he growled. “I want your eyes to roll back in their sockets.” He kissed a sinful line from underneath my jaw, down my neck, through the valley of my breasts. I arched into him, trying to get him to kiss every millimeter of me. He chuckled darkly, his lips finding my nipple as my arms around his neck tightened.

“I want you so thoroughly broken from pleasure,” he said, lifting his head, “that only I can put you back together again.” His eyes found mine, and when I thought I would burn alive inside out just from his look, he lips devoured me. He roamed down my back, gripping my ass, before fingering my pussy from behind, probing me. I arched up, eager for him, but he just teased me, playing with the folds and never going inside.

I tried to plunge myself against him, but he just continued to taunt me, opening me so the cool air licked my folds and I felt how empty I was. I couldn’t take it anymore. I rolled myself off him and got on all fours, put my ass in the air.

“Please,” I moaned, throwing my head over my shoulder to catch his scorching turquoise eyes. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, please just fuck me.” His lips brushed against my hip, the tickle of his beard igniting a fire inside my belly. The even lighter touch of his fingers roamed down my thighs. The heat of him rose up behind me, his lips at the small of my back.

“What a good girl,” he growled against the little bone. “So eager.” His finger slid down my folds, featherlight, a tickle that hinted at more and drove me insane. I ground my head into the floor with a moan, hoping the pain could distract me from the hollow hunger. Even the knife handle hadn’t been enough. I needed his warm flesh, thick and flexing, utterly Anteros—a cock that fit inside me like a missing part of my soul.

“I need you,” I begged—I wasn’t above it. I went into withdrawal the minute he left me. Suddenly Anteros’s rough grip was at my thighs and he was flipping me over. He ripped his shirt off and threw it to the side, pants following shortly after.

Would I ever get used to him?

Intense. Looming. Predatory. Wild hair shrouding even wilder eyes. He was all man and cut muscle, with veins marking his brawn like lightning bolts from the heavens. He was a fucking god, and I would worship him till the day I died. He leaned down, dug into my flesh, and spread my thighs. I sighed.

Finally.

I arched for him as he slid between my parted legs. His gaze flicked briefly to where my core lifted and he placed his palm on my stomach, making a low sound of approval in his throat.

“You’re going to look me in the eyes when you come,” he commanded roughly, gaze flicking back to mine. “And my name will be on your lips.”

“Yes, Boss.” I was out of my mind with need, edges softening under a lusty haze. The only thing that was clear was him. Wolfish grin. Dark, sexy beard. Sweat outlining muscles in a slick sheen.

“Please—” My beg broke into a cry as he plunged inside me. I arched off the floor, head grinding into the hardwood.

Complete.

I’m finally complete.

Anteros gripped an ankle in one hand and pulled my leg over his shoulder, spreading my legs wide in a V and plunging deeper than I thought possible. I fell into another dimension. My body disappeared into our pleasure. Each slow, careful slide of his cock catapulted me farther away. The delirious, heady rhythm had me spinning.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, free palm coming to cup my neck in a gentle, possessive grasp. My words came out in a long, slow groan, usurped by something much older and more primal than me. Groans, wails, and cries were my language now.

I shut my eyes. He was so deep it was almost painful, but with my eyes closed, I could bear it. Without sight, I was just sensation. Groans and deep breaths, the beat of him going in and out, my fingers slick along the hardwood.

“Look at me,” Anteros demanded, his own voice usurped by something warbled, rough, and raw. My eyes popped open. He was crazed, but it was a

beautiful madness. Bluegreen eyes wild, body tense and tortured by our love.

“Anteros,” I cried as it hit me, then he was pulsing inside me, warm and so fucking perfect.

This must be what addiction feels like.

Needing something so badly that even while you’re doing it, you’re already craving your next fix. It was ripping me apart, burrowing into my organs, making pleasure seep into my blood so it pumped into my heart and lungs. I couldn’t breathe anything but this feeling. He burrowed deeper and deeper until he was licking my soul.