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My purpose in life has only ever been to kill. It was the sole reason for my existence as a wee lad. To learn how to kill. They taught me well. There is not anything else on this earth I can do so efficiently. Conversation, understanding others, making decisions. These are not things I am well versed in. But killing, I can do. Without question. Without hesitance. Without a shadow of doubt in my soul. I was born to take life.
He’s a mixture of brutal and sensual. Sweet and hard. Rough and thoughtful.
On the outside, he’s so perfect it’s hard to believe I could ever measure up to him. I’m sullied. Tarnished. Unclean. And yet he’s looking at me right now like he’s never seen anything more angelic in his life.
I just want to make him feel good. I want to give him another dose of the drug he craves. I want him to keep coming back to me.
His clothes are still on, our skin isn’t even touching, but it’s the most intimate feeling in the world having him inside of me.
“Tell me what you like, Ronan,” I whisper. His eyes open and meet mine. Soft and sweet and content. “All of it,” he answers in a rough voice. “I like all of it.”
“Always you. Only you, Ronan.”
“I think about ye all the time.”
Ronan and I have always had a fucked up way of going about things. The first time he fucked me, it was next to my dead boyfriend’s body. The first blowjob, in a basement he uses to kill people. He isn’t at all sweet. But if I wanted sugar, I’d eat a fucking cupcake.
This man is pure agony. My descent to hell. In fact, I’m certain he must be Lucifer himself, because the poison he feeds me is too sweet to resist.
“Ye’re done dancing,” he says finally, in a tone like I have no say in the matter. “I’m fully aware of that,” I snap. “Tonight was my last night.” He grips my hair into a makeshift pony tail and tugs on it. His mouth hovers over mine, the heat of his every exhale skating over my lips. “Nobody else gets to see you like that,” he declares. “Ye’re claimed.”
His words douse me in gasoline. His eyes light the match. And when he grinds himself against me, all that’s left to do is burn for him.
His raging hard cock is still sandwiched between our bodies, at least until it isn’t. He picks me up and the next thing I know, I’ve got ten inches of Ronan shoved inside of me. I cry out against him, and he feeds off of it, sucking his own choice of poison from the hollow in my throat. The taste of my skin is what gets him off. Being inside of me. Owning me. He drinks from me and gives me another lethal injection of his brand of narcotic.
And when I look at him, all I see is the calm. He’s my anchor in the stormy sea. The one that keeps me from being pulled away into the chaos. But Ronan needs an anchor too.
This man is the walking definition of masculinity. Virility. If his crew were a wolf pack, he’d be the strong and silent Alpha. And yet I’m the only one who’s ever touched this God among mortals. Me. A girl from the Dot with nothing to offer but my broken self.
Tonight’s not about putting on a show for him. Tonight’s about learning the landscape of his body. Connecting with him in a way that’s more intimate than any other. Knowing his skin. The story only his body can tell me. My fingers burn with the need to have those things.
