Outcasts (Badlands 3)

He was more than likely right, though. I’d never been with a man like him. I responded to his promise by placing my hands on his solid chest and pushing him down on the bed. The duffel bag fell to the floor.

The devilish smile he graced me with made me want to repeat the move ten times more.

I worked my pants down that had become like a second skin since being wet, taking my underwear with them.

His eyes tracked over the fairy tattoo that spread down to where dark curls had begun to grow back due to me not havin a razor.

“I’m killing whoever did that,” he said with no hint of humor. “You’re beautiful, Brat.” He reached for me, running his hands down my sides, around to the back of my thighs, cautious of the healin skin. “And that is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

He let me go, only to lower his jeans down, revealing a pair of black briefs. The outline of his cock was painfully obvious, and without a hint of shame, he pulled it out.

He was rock solid, tan just like rest of him, and more than a lil impressive. I peered up at him through half-mast lids.

I knew this was it, sealing the deal between us for good, and so did he. This wouldn’t be a quick ‘out of our system’ spin cycle fuck.

His eyes were dark, like raven wings.

They were the type of darkness that wasn't dark. They were my rapture. There was no promise of dawn, only an endless midnight sky.

The danger held within them only allured me all the more, fanning a slow-burning desire and turning that spark between us into raging hellfire. I wanted him to burn me from the inside out and spread his ashes on my skin.

Straddling his lap, I gripped one shoulder with one hand and his smooth cock with the other, circling the head with my thumb.

“I got you.” He gripped my hips, ensuring I wouldn’t fall when I let his shoulder go.

“Grimm,” I barely whispered, hovering over his tip. My hands gripped him harder than necessary as I fought against my paranoia. This was my reaper. He wouldn’t use me like those men had. Grimm was my safety net. I had to get them out of my fuckin system.

“You don’t have to do—goddamnn, Brat,” he amended in a growly voice.

I took him inside me to the hilt, desperate to feel anything other than them.

I moaned lo

udly without embarrassment. He felt perfect; this burn was welcome. The pleasure and the pain had me clenching around him involuntarily.

He filled me entirely, stretching me as his cock slowly became embraced by my walls. I knew this wasn’t his M.O. Grimm wanted control. I imagined he needed it to deal with the things that went on inside his own head. But he willingly sat there and gave it to me—somethin I didn’t need.

I rolled my hips, tryna get a feel for this, and he flexed his hands. I did it again, watchin his face this time, and he glared slightly. His body was all tensed up, like iron.

“I’m not the kinda man you want to tease with your pussy. Fuck me hard, or I’ll fuck you harder, and by time I’m done, you won’t be able to walk in a straight line. Every crevice of your sexy ass body will be dripping with sweat, and you won’t be able to remember your name because you were too busy screaming mine.”

He gripped the back of my neck, slamming his mouth over mine, and lifted his hips, thrusting into me.

He bit down on my lower lip so hard he broke the skin. I cried out, and he slipped his tongue in.

His other hand was now firmly graspin my ass, guiding me up and down on his dick. He helped me find a rhythm, easing all the way up when I took over.

He caressed my back, ran his hands over my sides, and roughly took hold of my breasts—all as I rode him. The sounds comin from my mouth were unrecognizable.

“Harder,” he demanded, with no change in his vocal inflection. With him soundin as normal as he always did, aside from his harsh grip, I thought I may have been goin about this the wrong way.

I straddled him a little more, taking him to the hilt every time I slid up then back down on his slickened cock. It felt too good. He felt so good it hurt.

He suddenly leaned back so he could watch me, loosely resting his palms back on my hips.

His eyes were saturated with raw desire, and it was all for me. I worked him faster, my breath coming in short puffs. The shitty bed was swayin in place, solely supported by the wall where paint-chips were steadily fallin away.

“That’s it,” he praised, his tone a lil more gravelly. “Fuck me, Brat. Use me. Take what you need.”