Wicked Heart (Wreck & Ruin 1) - Page 54

It was a rare thing for any of us to let ourselves be consumed by alcohol. It left you weak, vulnerable but the state we were in… yeah, we were drunk.

Fucked actually.

Ace stumbles towards the bathroom, clutching a bottle of red wine in his hand, drinking straight from it while Micha lays passed out on the couch. Eleanor is in a better state, a little flushed and drowsy but coherent and me, I was buzzed but stable.

It was a little past midnight, early by any comparison, but I wanted Eleanor in my bed and naked. Now.

I don’t bother waking Micha or waiting for Ace, they’ll crash where they fall and quite frankly, I didn’t care. I down the rest of the bourbon I had in my glass and stand, walking towards where she lays sprawled in a chair and pull her up, crashing my mouth to hers as soon as she’s in distance.

She whimpers into my mouth, her tongue tasting the bourbon off mine. I don’t break the kiss as I guide her towards my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind us, but it’s here she decides to take control. The alcohol in her veins gives her more confidence, enough to tell her she could do this, but not too much for her not to be in control of her own thoughts.

“I brought something with me,” she says, backing me towards the chair in the room. The backs of my knees hit the edge and I fall into a sitting position, letting her dominate the situation, giving her the control I know she needs.

“What’s that?” I ask, popping the buttons on the shirt I still hadn’t changed out from since the meeting this morning. I untuck it and let it fall open.

“You can wait–” her words cut off as she turns towards me, lips parted, eyes devouring my naked torso, tracing over the tattoos and the ridges. I love how she looks at me. It’s the only thing she can’t hide from me. The amount of wanton need in that gaze, the heat, the desire, it’s a beacon for my depraved soul.

“Come on, Eleanor, show me what you have.”

She shakes her head, dragging her gaze away. “Give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Her cheeks are reddened, but she doesn’t shy away, instead she heads to the bathroom, stealing a robe from the hook that hangs just outside the door. I stay where I am, waiting for her, wondering what exactly she has planned.

When she comes out a few minutes later, she has the robe tied around her frame tightly. She barely meets my eyes, a flush on her skin.

“Just give me a minute,” she says a little breathlessly, “can you, maybe, shut your eyes?”

I quirk a brow and smirk, slouching down further in the chair, closing my eyes like she asked. It helps that I’m picturing everything under that robe, the firm breasts, the taut stomach and shapely hips, the perfect pussy begging for my touch. My cock jerks at the thought of sinking deep into it, feeling the warmth envelope it, of me buried to the balls and feeling her convulse around me.

I hear her moving around, clothes shuffling, things being moved and then the slight squeak of the mattress as she climbs onto it. I can picture it too, her small frame kneeling first at the edge and then shuffling up it, getting herself comfortable on the pillows, pulling her hair out from beneath her before dragging the covers up to her chin.

“Okay,” She breathes, “You can open your eyes.”

Of all the things I had been expecting, this was not it.

I had expected some lingerie, lacy and translucent, ready to be ripped off by my teeth, but not the completely exposed skin on show, the naked breasts, nipples peaked, not the way her legs lay sprawled, bent at the knee but thighs apart, showing me everything.

I swallow.

The urge to go to her is as strong as the need to breathe. She lays at the top of the mattress, the pillows piled behind her, so she’s half sitting up and looking right at me.

In one hand she holds a single silver object.

“You like to watch,” she whispers, “I want to show you.”

“Love,” the word comes out broken, a rasp of pure primal need.

I grip the arms of the chair so tight I’m surprised I don’t rip them clean off.

“Watch,” she smiles slightly as her hand travels down her stomach and dips between her legs, manicured fingers parting her folds and gently, tentatively, stroking over her clit. She smears her wetness over her pussy, coating herself in her own arousal as she holds my gaze.

“Eleanor,” I choke.

“Watch.”

My cock grows so hard it becomes painful, straining against the zipper of my trousers.

I liked watching. I fucking loved watching. But watching her was torture. Beautiful and chaotic, divine, and painful.

She circles her fingers over her clit, her lips parting as the pleasure captures her, working herself up and then the vibrating starts.

She moves that silver object in her hand towards her clit, the thing vibrating so hard and incessantly the noise is an echo in my head, but when she puts the tip of it against her clit her head falls back, and she gasps.

“Fuck,” I growl.

She uses both hands now, one holding the vibrator to her clit, the other slipping down to tease at her hole, and she works herself, forgetting me, blind to her pleasure.

Her hips twitch, wanting to grind, but she keeps mostly still, fucking herself with her fingers and working her clit and I can’t take it anymore. I rip open my trousers and grab my cock, squeezing it hard as my breath hisses through my teeth.

“Say my name,” I demand, pumping myself hard.

“King,” she obeys, the sound a breath from her lips as she continues to pleasure herself.

“Yes, like that,” I fuck my own hand to the view of her fucking herself, of her showing me how she likes it.

Her moans get louder as she finds her rhythm, her body twitching as she hits nerves but me, watching isn’t enough.

She’s so lost in what she’s doing to herself that she doesn’t see me come towards her, doesn’t feel me situate myself between her legs until I’m pushing her hand away and spearing my own fingers inside of her. She cries out as I hit deeper than she could. My hand continues to pump my cock but at the same speed I fuck her with my other hand.

“Fuck, yes,” she moans, lifting her hips higher and pressing that vibrator harder to her clit.

Seeing her like this, watching her lost in her euphoria, it wasn’t what I had expected it to be.

“Fuck,” I growl, unable to hold it back. The need for her, the need to own her, claim her, have her in every single way that was physically possible.

I pull my fingers from her and line the head of my cock to her pussy, sinking in.

We moan in unison, her stretching around my size. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” I tell her when she goes to pull away. She holds her hand steady, keeping the vibration on her clit, rubbing it up and down, side to side, milking every ounce of pleasure it can give her all the while I pump my hips, sinking in further with each thrust.

It’s like her body was built for me. The way I fit inside, her enveloping me in a tight sheath, our breathing mingling, syncing. I can’t get enough. Never enough.

I grip her hips as I fuck her, pushing in and out, reveling in the way she responds, the way her eyes roll back and her face tightens.

I thrust hard, hitting some part of her that makes her scream and I do it again, and again.

“King!” She pleads, one hand coming up to lay against the bottom of my abdomen, both pulling and pushing me away.

“What do you want?” I growl, pounding in so hard our skin thuds together.

“Oh god,” She cries out right before she shatters. Her mouth parts on a silent scream as her head tips back, exposing her throat to me as her cunt pulses around my cock.

“Haven’t I told you before, love,” I finish my sentence with a harsh, rough pound of my hips, “God can’t help you now.”

The silent scream turns loud. Her pussy convulses so violently it becomes almost vice like as I pump in and out of her and a warm wetness coats my cock as she comes so violently, she goes silent again, her body spasming around me.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good, the feel of you coming on my cock! I think we can have another, I want another,” I tell her, leaning down once she settles slightly, kissing her mouth,

“I don’t think I can,” she moans.

“Oh, I think you can, love, you can take it,” I whisper against her mouth as I slip out, grab her hips and turn her over.

“King,” she warns as the head of my cock presses against that virgin flesh of her arse.

I chuckle, “I’ll have you here,” I promise, “and you’ll scream louder than you ever have before.”

She groans as she wiggles, letting me slip right back into her cunt. I’ll have another orgasm out of her even if it kills me, and so I go again, and again, fucking her until the only thing she can remember is my name.

Tags: Ria Wilde Wreck & Ruin Dark
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