He clears his throat, gritting his teeth. “You’re a fucking psycho sometimes, you know that!” He shakes his head, massaging his throat as if to make a point.
I glare at him. “If that’s the case, don’t come into my bed at 3 a.m.”
“Don’t lie, you fucking love it when I do.” He’s got a point so I don’t bother denying it.
“I need a full night’s sleep to do my job.”
He suddenly smirks. “All this anger. You don’t need sleep. You need to get laid.”
“No I fucking don’t.”
“You rub yourself against me when you’re asleep.”
As I stop to think about if I do, he takes hold of me by my hair and pulls me to him, clashing his mouth on mine. I let him. It’s been a while since I drowned in one of his bruising kisses. It tames whatever was inside of me that wanted to lash out.
Still kissing me deeply, he shoves me back onto the bed, and climbs on top. We’re back in the exact same position we were in before. All I can do is grab handfuls of his hair and wrap my legs around him. It’s been weeks, no months, since he touched me. I don’t get why he’s been acting like a fucking prude since we left Sacred Heart, but he hasn’t laid a hand on me until now.
His hands stroke roughly down my body until he reaches the pyjama shorts I’m wearing. In one smooth motion, he hauls them down. I’m not wearing any knickers so his fingers are inside me in no time at all.
Not that an extra layer of lace would stop him.
Not that I would let it either.
“Is this what you need?” he murmurs, as he fingers my clit. “Me inside of you?”
“You can’t just show up and fuck me, that’s not how it works,” I say, biting his neck.
“Can’t I?” He shrugs off his boxers. My eyes lower to his erect cock, hard and ready for me.
“You’re not putting that thing in me,” I say, but my body betrays me. I lick my lips and angle my hips up.
Lorcan smirks.
He knows.
It’s a game—me telling him to fuck off and him giving it to me anyway. I don’t know how we got into this habit, but we did. I need it. It presses all the right buttons. I don’t think I can fuck the normal, boring way. I’m not wired to just lie down and take it.
He needs to make me take it.
“Eager little bitch, aren’t you? But I want you this way.”
He flips me over. I move to get on to all fours, but he weaves his hand around my hair and pushes my head sideways into the pillow. Then mounts me, slowly, forcing the tip of his cock inside as he holds me down.
He pushes until he’s all the way in. “Fuck, Viola. You’re so wet and tight.”
“Don’t you dare come too soon,” I say, hoarsely.
“Shut the fuck up,” he drawls, and starts moving his hips, sliding in and out, building delicious pressure at my core.
The pent up frustration that’s been fucking with me since I killed Mr Hans, the last prey I allowed myself to cut to ribbons, immediately begins to release. And I’m lost in the feel of Lorcan screwing the rage out of me, as I devour it up in him.
After we’re both spent, we drift back to sleep for a little while. I wake up to him spooning me from behind. It’s Monday. We should be getting ready for school, but I can’t be bothered to move. Lorcan’s limbs are tangled with mine. His breathing is deep and comforting. And for once, I am content.
It scares me more than a bullet to the brain.
Never have I let anyone this close. It’s not lost on me that I’ve come to depend on him to take me away from my other needs, to sate the darkness within me. These months with him not touching me has been difficult, these last two weeks with him gone have been extra hard. I’ve resorted to ramping up the violence just to subdue the voices, the bloodlust…the need for release.
I don’t know what to think about that so I just let it sit there, festering in my mind until he opens his gorgeous eyes and drags me even closer. He kisses me, tongue darting inside as he bites my lower lip. And just like that, he’s hard again.