Heartless (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy 1)

Lucian’s hands were red and tainted as he tugged my bra down, smearing my skin. His mouth was fierce and painful as he dipped his head to my chest, and I couldn’t hold back the smile, arching myself for more as he bit down on my tit and sucked it into his hot mouth.

“Fuck yes . . .” I whispered. “That’s nice. So damn nice . . .”

He ripped my panties and tore them free, and I stepped out of my heels, unsteady. I was trembling as he circled his thumb against my clit, aching for more.

“Yes . . .” I breathed. “Please . . .”

But it wasn’t my pussy he forced two fingers inside in one thrust. It was my ass.

I cried out because I wasn’t expecting it, and he bit my nipple harder. Sucked harder.

Three fingers made me cry out louder, and he was a beast as he slammed them deep.

It hurt. Really fucking hurt. But I liked it. Liked taking the pain for him.

Even though it reminded me of so many horrors . . . so many people who’d played games with me . . . so many sick fucks who used me for their pleasure without ever taking my true innocence . . .

Sick fucks who were supposed to be people I could trust . . .

His lips were glistening wet as he raised his mouth to mine.

“I’m gonna use you one step at a time,” he told me as he twisted his fingers in my ass. “One sweet little pleasure at a time, Elaine. I’m gonna take what I want.”

I yelped as he yanked his fingers free, a wonderful pain that made my pussy pulse as he unbuckled his belt.

I was desperate for it, and desperate to see him before he used me.

His cock was as much a monster as he was. I’d seen so many. So many sad little cocks used by their sad sicko owners . . . but never one like his. Veined and thick as he worked it in his bloodied fingers. Bloodied fingers that had been buried inside me.

He forced me to my knees, his filthy fingers in my filthy hair, and my mouth was already open, wanting what was coming for the first time in my life.

“Make sure you make it nice and wet before I fuck you,” he grunted.

I did.

I did make sure it was nice and wet. I sucked him deep, and my tongue lapped at him as I stared up at him, and he knew in that moment.

He knew I wasn’t new to sucking dick.

I may have been shit at kissing, but I wasn’t shit at sucking dick.

“Dirty bitch,” he said and shunted right to the back of my throat. “Who fucked your mouth, little girl?”

I sucked him harder to avoid speaking, because I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to tell a soul who the fuck had destroyed mine.

“I’ll tear those truths out of you,” he snarled. “One day, little bitch, I’ll tear those truths from your throat.”

I kept lapping. Kept twirling my tongue around his thick, veiny cock, making it nice and slick as he used my mouth.

I let out a squeal as he pulled out and threw me backwards. I landed against Stephen’s body and squealed again, scurrying away on my hands, but Lucian didn’t let me get that far.

He was on me in seconds, his weight crushing mine into the bloodied carpet. It was still warm. Wet and warm. And so was he.

He lifted himself high enough that my fingers took on a life of their own and tried to unbutton his shirt. I wanted his skin. I wanted his flesh against mine.

He helped me and crushed right back on top, skin to skin. Blood to blood.

It suited us. Blood to blood. It would soon be ours. Paying for our crimes.

He ground against me, his dick tight to my clit. It was heaven, and I bucked, and begged, grabbing him for more. I wanted him inside me so badly.

“Please,” I said on a breath, “please take me, Lucian.”

He hitched my legs up high, thighs to my chest, a smirk on his face as he took hold of his cock and pressed it against my clit. Christ how I moaned for him. How I moaned as he drew that cock down through my pussy lips.

“Please,” I said, “fuck me.”

“My fucking pleasure,” he said and shunted hard in one savage thrust.

I cried out at the pain. Cried out at the shock as he rammed into me. Because he wasn’t fucking my pussy . . .

The monster was fucking my ass. The bastard wasn’t in my desperate pussy, he was slamming my ass.

Yet still I was begging for more.

I couldn’t stop myself begging for more.

Please . . . harder . . . harder . . .