Willing (The Un 1) - Page 6

Crying out, my nails bite into the skin of his shoulders, and he groans a long, toe-curling groan before moving against me once more. His body rocking me past the shock and thrusting me back to the edge of oblivion.

I try to let go. I try to slip back into the nothingness.

I want to give up the weight of this mortal coil I’ve been carrying.

To finally be free of every burden…

But there’s this tugging on my neck. A hard, persistent tugging that’s making me feel like he’s trying to suck my soul through my flesh.

It’s so distracting, I start to push at his shoulders to get him to stop whatever it is he’s doing.

Growling like a beast that doesn’t want to give up its kill, he thrusts into me harder, and the tugging on my neck becomes nearly unbearable.

Desperate to be free of the distraction, I pull my neck away, tipping my head in the opposite direction.

Only to be stopped by a shadowy hand wrapping around my throat.

“Be still, Chloe. Stop. Fighting. Me,” he commands.

His words, needle-like, stab into my brain while his fingers squeeze and cut off my air.

Against my will, my body reacts to his command. Every muscle becoming weak and loosened until I’m utterly limp beneath him.

Fingers relaxing, he murmurs, “Good angel,” attempting to convey softness.

But his voice is too raw and gruff to achieve it.

If anything, those two words bother me so much I start to question what is happening.

Good angel? What am I now? An innocent child?

And who is he to boss me around? Why should I listen to him?

Pulling back his hips suddenly, he slams into me deep and grinds against my clit.

I find myself seeing stars as he moans against my ear. “It’s time you’ve given up this futile battle, for both our sakes.”

Slowly he slides out of me, granting me a heartbeat to take a breath.

Then he slams deep again.

More stars explode in front of my eyes, and when I try to blink them away I notice the shadowy darkness cloaking his body is fading.

The black melting into flesh so pale and lacking in color it’s nearly as white as my sheets.

Again, the word unnatural springs to my mind, filling me with more unease.

“We are meant to be, fate has decided it,” he pants as the thrusting of his hips becomes harder and more determined. “Not even your God can change this.”

Panic and a sense of impending doom war with the crackling waves rolling through my body. My hands push at his shoulders as the walls of my sex pulse and squeeze around his thickness.

My mind is unwilling to submit, but my body is hungry and desperate for the release only he can give.

Growling at the push of my hands, he begins to pound into me faster and faster. “Tell me where you are, Chloe.”

The words he seeks leap to my lips, and one manages to slip out on a moan as a spike of intense pleasure momentarily robs me of my senses. “New—”

“New what?” he grunts, his thrusts momentarily slowing. “New Orleans? New York?”

Realizing my mistake, I quickly clamp my lips together to keep the full answer from escaping.

Irritated, he draws my name out in warning, “Chloe…”

The urge to please him, to give him what he wants, presses down on me so hard all I want and desire is to be free of it.

I almost give in. After all, what’s the harm? Don’t I want this when I’m awake? When it’s real?

But then I feel that pain in my neck again.

The pain of him biting me.

Oh God, he’s biting me…

“Chloe, tell me where you are.”

His words slam into me. Too powerful and too wrong.

I push harder on his shoulders, trying to get him off my neck. I still don’t fully understand what is happening, but I don’t want him doing whatever it is he’s doing.

Growling another animalistic sound, he finally pulls away from my throat and lifts his head.

His shadowy face stares down at me as his body crashes into my body.

The speed and strength behind his pounding hips too powerful to be human.

“Tell me where you are, Chloe,” he commands with a touch of desperation.

Shaking my head, I resist the temptation to give into his demand. Resist the temptation to explode from the pleasure he’s forcing on me with his deep thrusts.

Only I have the power to end this for us… I somehow remember that now. I have the power to end our suffering and misery.

But even if I can’t remember why, I know I can’t…

I can’t.

“You can,” he declares, and I don’t know if I spoke out loud or if he’s reading my thoughts, but both frighten me.

This entire situation scares the shit out of me, to be honest.

Thrashing my head, I try to dislodge him from my mind and fight off all the pressure building in my core.

Tags: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty The Un Fantasy
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