Scarred (Never After Series)
Scarred: Chapter 45

Her touch is the sweetest surrender.

I decided long before ending up here that if she wished for me to die, I would lie down at her feet. I have no interest in fighting her. No interest in living if she doesn’t wish for me to be.

No longer do I thirst for the throne. No more do I wish for vengeance on those who have wronged me.

It all pales in comparison to her.

Blood seeps down my neck from where her blade nicked my skin, and my cock pulses from her violence. She’s an absolute vision in her rage, and when she drops the knife and falls into my arms, my chest implodes.

“Show me your pain, little doe. Give it to me so you don’t bear it alone,” I rasp against her mouth as I suck down her cries.

My hands claw at her clothing and she gives as good as she gets until we end up bare, with her in my lap; fabrics tossed to the side, shredded and in forgotten piles. My dick slides between her pussy lips, desperate to sink inside of her.

I fist her hair, pulling until her back bows like a pretzel, the ends of her curly strands grazing against the floor until her breasts are exposed, dark pink nipples begging to be sucked. I lean down like a ravenous animal and wrap my mouth around her pebbled flesh, growling when her taste explodes on my tongue, and she grinds her hot cunt along my shaft.

“Tristan,” she pleads, her juices running down the length of me and pooling on the polished tiled floor of the cathedral. “Please, I—”

I release her nipple with a pop, sliding my tongue up her chest until I’m sucking on her neck, bringing the blood to the surface, not caring if I leave a mark; desperate to show the world that she belongs to no one else but me. To mark her skin like she’s marked my soul.

Someone could walk in at any time, but I don’t give a damn. Let them watch.

This isn’t love. This is obsession. It’s madness. It’s salvation.

“Shh.” I move my lips until they brush against hers. “I know what you need.”

I let go of her hair, moving both of my hands to grip her hips, and I raise her up, my cock angry and throbbing beneath her. And then her wet heat encases me from root to tip, her soft walls hugging every single ridge of my dick until my abs tense, and I see stars just from the feel of being surrounded by her.

Her head flies back as she moans, rotating her hips in a figure eight, every motion making me leak.

She rides me so good and this time it’s her who rips me by the hair; the sting making me groan as her lips work their way down the front of my neck, sucking when they reach the thin cut on my throat.

I throb inside of her.

“Yes,” I hiss, bucking up and collapsing on my elbows, her body following as she continues to lick at the wound she made. “You filthy girl, riding my cock and licking up my blood like you’re starved for me.”

She moans again, the sound vibrating through me, and then she’s moving until her back is straight, and her hands are cupping her breasts and tweaking the nipples until they stiffen into hard peaks. My abdomen clenches tight as I watch her throw her head back and squeeze her eyes shut, wondering how it’s possible she exists—half convinced that I’ve gone mad and she’s nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

Suddenly, the feeling is too much, and I shoot forward until our chests brush, her hips faltering in their rhythm. My fingers grip her cheeks. “Look at me.”

Her perfect dark eyes spring open, and Christ, it makes me feel like the luckiest man to have her in my lap, and on my cock, and in my goddamn veins. “Did you really think I would ever harm you?”

I punctuate my question with a sharp thrust into her slick heat, keeping myself pressed against her as she rotates her swollen core against my groin, her body shaking as her walls flutter around my dick.

A tear escapes the corner of her eye and trails down her cheek, and I lean in without thought, my tongue swiping out and licking it away.

Her sorrow is now my sorrow.

Her pain is now my pain.

“I will torture and maim any person who dares to even think your name,” I speak against her ear, holding her face against me while I continue to fuck her hard and slow.

She lets out a whimper, nodding her head as she leans in to claim my lips again in a bruising kiss, and my heart falters, needing to feel her deeper—wanting to somehow dig my way beneath her skin and stay there for eternity.

My hands leave her face and grab onto her hips instead, pushing her down until every single inch of my cock is buried deep inside of her, but still, it’s not enough.

I lift her off me, my shaft engorged and glistening with her arousal, raging as it escapes the warmth of her. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I spin her until she’s bent over on all fours, her elbows on the edge of the raised dais. I sit back on my heels and soak in the vision, committing it to memory so I can tattoo it on my skin.

Her pretty little pussy is exposed, and she’s leaned down as if she’s bowing in prayer, the stained-glass windows sending sprinkles of colors across her perfect creamy skin, and the deep wood of the crucifix looming heavily over our sins.

I move forward, slipping my fingers inside of her needy cunt, curling them forward to replace that soft, spongy spot that will make her come undone.

“Should I punish you for your lack of faith?” I ask, spreading my fingers apart before bringing them back together and curling them again.

She groans, her head dropping onto the backs of her hands, which push the cheeks of her ass out toward me. They’re begging me to turn them red.

So I do.

I slip my fingers from inside of her and use that same hand, slick with her juices, to whip across her skin, the crack resounding off the high arches of the church’s ceilings. Heat collects at the base of my spine, and I have never been harder than I am right now, watching her skin ripple and turn pink from my hand.

Her fingers scramble for purchase at the base of the altar, and her nails scratch against the floor.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Sara.” My hand rubs over my palm print, and she purrs, pushing herself farther into my hold.

Crack.

I smack her ass again, my cock leaking pre-ejaculate onto the floor.

It’s filthy, and a thrill rushes through my veins as I imagine people kneeling right here as they take communion.

Groaning, my free hand grips the base of my shaft, holding back the urge to explode from the thought alone. I push forward until the purple head of my length slides along the outside of her core, hitting her sensitive bud. I bring my hand down a third time, and she yelps, wetness seeping from her hole and onto the skin of my dick.

My lips drag kisses up her spine as I lean over her, fisting her hair in my hand and wrenching her head back, forcing her body to rise until she’s flush against me, my breath blowing in her ear.

“So pliable and submissive when you’re on your knees and begging for my marks,” I whisper.

Her body trembles, her thighs tightening as she pushes against me, jerking me off with her pussy lips. Back and forth she glides, rubbing herself on my straining erection, making my stomach tense with the need to bury myself as far inside of her as I can go.

“Tell me you’re mine,” I demand. My hand moves from her hair around to grasp the front of her throat, her back rubbing against my chest and creating a delicious friction. I thrust my hips forward, my eager cock throbbing.

“I’m a desperate man, Sara.” My fingers tighten around her throat, my other hand wrapping around her waist and sliding down until I replace her center, my thumb pressing against that perfect sweet, swollen bundle of nerves that’s begging for me to rub against it until she blacks out from the pleasure.

“Tell me,” I repeat. “And I’ll make you come so hard you’ll need me to piece you back together.”

She sucks in a breath, and even the sound of her sigh sends arousal racing through me so fiercely that I bite my cheek until it bleeds.

“Yours,” she whispers.

I slide inside of her with one solid thrust.

Both of us groan, and I start a punishing pace, my balls slapping against her cunt and my hips clapping against the red and tender cheeks of her ass. My eyes drink her up, and heat coils around my entire body, making me wild with the need to come inside of her, just a little, just to know what it’s like.

My balls draw up until they’re almost level with the base of my shaft, and I lean forward, rutting into her like an animal, my knees scraping against the stone floor until they bleed.

“Oh my god,” she cries out, her body vibrating.

Is it possible to be jealous of God? Because when His name leaves her lips, I want to slit my wrists and fly up to his kingdom, just to burn it to the ground.

My hand cracks against the flesh again, harder this time, enraged that she would dare call His name when it’s me breaking her apart. Angry that she would think to kill me before she gave me the pleasure of diving into her sweet cunt one last time. “You say my name when you’re coming around my dick, ma petite menteuse. No one else’s.”

I wrap my arm around her waist, squeezing tightly and running the tips of my fingers down until they slip through her core, pinching her clitoris until she screams.

“Tristan!” she cries out again, her walls slicking with her cum as she tenses around my cock.

“That’s right, little doe. It’s me making you crazy. Only me. Only ever me.”

And then she explodes, my name pouring from her lips, and that’s all I can handle, my muscles coiling tight and my vision blanking out as thick jets of cum spew from my tip, pulsing as I coat the inside of her. My fingers dig into her hips, and I glance down, watching as thick white gobs seep out of her pussy and glide back down the shaft of my dick.

It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

Panting and spent, I collapse on top of her back, leaving lazy kisses along her spine, and knowing, without a doubt, that she’s the only thing that’s ever mattered, and the only thing that ever will.