Cursed Angels

“Archer,” she snarls. “Don’t tell me you aren’t going to live up to the reputation?”

I shift my hips so that every millimeter of her pussy will feel my dick and know it’s me inside her, and I’m not coming out until she’s screaming my name in ecstasy. She gasps, and her eyes darken. They’re as black as the witching hour with no moon.

She looks demonic in that split second.

I pull back and thrust hard. I find my rhythm, and it’s punishing. She wants a monster, she will get one. I will fuck her so raw she’ll need a cushion to sit on for at least a week. The entire board will know she has been in my bed; the screaming orgasm I’m about to give her will tell them that as well. Her pussy clamps down on my dick. She’s close. Time to send her over the edge. I bend down to her breasts and take a nipple into my mouth. I want to fool her into thinking I will be tender with the buds that scream out for my teeth, so I flick my tongue over the nub. She groans in frustration. She’s close, but not falling over the precipice until I say she can. My hips still gesticulate wildly the entire time I tease her breasts. I go to the other and do the same.

“Fuck, Asher, just bite me,” she growls out.

“Patience,” I respond. “You don’t get to come until I’m ready for you to do so. This pussy is for my pleasure. I’ve not had my fill of it yet.”

“You aren’t in charge,” she hisses.

“When you’re in my bed, I’m in charge.” I push hard into her to emphasize my point. There is no better way to show someone you mean something than by shoving your dick into them. “I’m not a toy soldier anymore. I’m the man who does the punishments for you. I have no conscience. You saw to that. You want a loving person to fuck, then you need to reprogram me.” Reprogram me? Shit. What the hell was I talking about? I’m losing it.

I bite down on her nipple, and she shatters around my cock. Her inner walls massaging my own release from my body. I empty deep within her in an endless flow. It hits me midway that we didn’t use any protection.

“Shit.” I pull out and jump off her, still coming into my hand. She groans out a lamenting cry of frustration when her orgasm subsides. “We didn’t use anything.”

I expect her to start panicking, but instead she throws her head backwards and laughs.

“Rebekah?” I enquire, not expecting this reaction.

“Miss Ward,” she corrects me with venomous scorn.

“What the fuck?” I wipe my cum-covered hands on a tissue from the box on the nightstand.

“You wanted your moment in charge, and you got it. The only time you will get it is when we fuck, because I made you, and I can destroy you. Just like I did your predecessor. This is a warning, Archer King. When I come to your bed, you’ll make me scream like you just did, and I’ll take care of the precautions.” She slides from the bed, and I see my release dripping down her thighs. She takes a hand and wipes it through the essence. She brings her hands to her mouth and licks it clean. Fuck, I don’t know whether to wither in fear or come again. My dick decides the latter and hardens once more. “Listen to what your little brain wants. Switch your big one off. This is the future, Archer. Embrace it, and you will be rich beyond your wildest dreams.” She comes over to me and dips her hand between her legs again, our combined essences coating her fingers this time. She brings them to my lips, but I keep them shut and stare her down.

“You were born to be a god here. To rule at my side, if that is what you choose. Make your decision. Allow the conditioning to consume you and give you the life you deserve.” She licks one side of her finger and then presses it back against my lips for a second time. I have a decision to make. I submit. It’s the only decision I can make. I let my mind go blank, stick my tongue out, and seal our deal.

Chapter 9

Samara

My body aches, a beautiful freeing pain. When I roll over, Hunter is there, sprawled in the sheets we were tangled in last night. I gave him everything. And in that moment, I lost Archer. I offered myself to Hunt, allowed him to consume me, but deep down, I know as much as I’ve given up on my love for a man who’ll not return to me, I’ll never stop loving him.

The guilt of what I’ve done weighs on my chest, heavy and unyielding. Shoving off the bed, I silently pad into the bathroom so as not to wake Hunter. His brown hair is messy, his full lips are parted in gentle breaths, and his toned, masculine torso greets me as I drink him in like a fine wine.