Playing With Monsters

by Amelia Hutchins

  “Fucking witch,” he grunted as he pinned me to the wall, driving his cock into me without mercy as he held my legs apart, giving him full access and control.

  “Screw you!” I yelled, raking my nails across his flesh as he claimed my mouth. I reached for his hair, yanking it and enjoying his growl as I gave him a taste of his own medicine. I felt the drywall give way with how hard he was fucking me. Something shattered and crashed against the floor, and then he was moving me to the couch in the front room.

  He slammed me down on it, his hands pulled my legs apart and his mouth swooped down between my legs, lapping at the wetness. His fingers pushed inside and I jerked as he started to move them, his mouth nibbling at my clitoris. I pulled his hair hard, watching as his eyes grew hard in turn and filled with liquid fire. He dropped his hold on one leg and withdrew his fingers from my body, reaching for my hips.

  He lay on the sofa as he pulled me over himself and his hands tangled in my hair to pull my head down and control my hungry mouth, forcing his cock down my throat—and I took it. I groaned around it as I took more than he’d tried to feed me, my nails dug into his thighs, and he yelped in surprise as I took all of him.

  I wasn’t even sure how it was possible, but I did it and looked up at him victoriously as my lips touched the base, and I let my teeth skim his delicate flesh as I pulled away from him. His eyes watched in wonder as I did it a few more times.

  I slammed him back against the couch when he tried to move away, slid him into my body, and began riding him hard. The couch protested, cracked loudly and we landed on the floor with a mixture of grunts and moans. I was trembling, but so was he. It was violent, like electricity hitting water, and I wanted more. I wiggled my hips, daring him to take control, and he growled as he bared his teeth and I detonated around his cock. The windows shattered as I screamed with my release and wind rushed through the room, flinging the paintings off the walls as it filled my hair and cooled my skin.

  He allowed me to have control for a moment, but then he picked me up, pushed me off his cock and flipped me over until I was on my stomach with something poking against the soft flesh of my belly. He grabbed me by the hair as he moved in behind my ass, his cock pushed against my wet pussy, and then he plunged inside without mercy, riding me hard from behind. Fingers in my hair, he pulled it as his other hand smacked my ass; pain shot to my center and threatened to shatter me. He pulled me back against him, releasing my hair as he grabbed my hips and lifted my ass as he drove into my pussy excruciatingly. More glass shattered around us as another orgasm violently tore through me. Crashing noises sounded outside, but I ignored it as I felt his hand gripping my throat and forcing me to my knees. Still gripping my throat, the fingers of his other hand pinched my nipple until I screamed.

  He released it and my neck as he yanked my body flush against his frame. He slapped my pussy as he pulled his cock out and flipped me over, taking in the marks on my body.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he growled as he shoved my legs apart and slammed into me, filling me. I climaxed again, watching as his muscles strained beneath his own impending release that he was withholding from me. It didn’t last long; I used my body to clamp down hungrily on his cock, tightening the muscles until his eyes grew heavy, his head rolled back, and his body released inside of mine.

  We collapsed on the floor, on broken things. My eyes closed and I smiled. Our breathing was labored, his front room and dining room were destroyed, and I laughed, and then started crying as he sat up and looked down at me.

  “Lena,” he whispered, but I ignored him as I stood up, and walked around the broken glass. I opened the door, not giving a shit that I was naked, or that the evidence from our rough sex was visible to everyone who waited outside.

  “Jesus, where the fuck do I sign up for some of that?” someone said, but I ignored them, turning to walk my very naked ass back to the cottage.

  “Did that just happen?” another voice said, and then asked, “How the fuck did that just happen?”

  “Lena,” Lucian’s voice was angry, and I listened without listening as he snapped orders. “Lena, stop!” he shouted, and I finally looked back, tears filled my eyes as a victorious smile quirked at my lips. He was still naked; his cock bounced with each step he took towards me, and he wasn’t done. He was hard, ready. Good.

  “I need a witch like that, shit, you guys seeing this?” another voice said, but their words were muffled as they returned to the house.

  “Lena,” Lucian shouted as I slammed the front door in his face upon returning home, and he kicked it; it threatened to disintegrate when he proceeded to pound on it. Finally, he tried the knob and, finding it unlocked, he opened it and moved with frightening speed to the bedroom, where I was already bending over the bed as I tried to move the covers to crawl into it.

  He entered me, and I cried out in bliss. He lifted my body, forcing my face into the mattress as he spread my legs painfully apart, pushing my body to its limits.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when I woke, I was alone again.

  I sat up, taking in the bruises from his hands, his cock, and his teeth. I’d been in heat, or the witch’s version of it. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I was starving, and I had no way to fix it. I moved my fingers to my pussy, taking in the inflamed and sore mound and felt the electrical buzz that was Lucian as he filled the room. His eyes locked on to my swollen flesh and I smiled up at him, needing a distraction from the gnawing pangs of hunger in my stomach. When he didn’t move towards me, I ignored him, pushing my finger inside, and moaning loudly as I began to move with purpose.

  “That’s mine,” he growled as he grasped my hands, holding them above my head as he used a pair of stockings from my nightstand drawer to tie my hands to the headboard of my small bed. I watched him, not wanting it to end. I needed him, needed the contact of our bodies. When he touched me, the pain I felt in my stomach eased and dissipated. He used another pair to secure my feet, lifting them until they were apart and tied to the footboard. I was open for him, and he knew it.

  “You missed me, Lena, admit it.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarled, whining and wincing as his hand slapped my exposed pussy hard. Then he kissed it, and I whimpered and rocked my hips. “I need you.”

  “I know,” he said against my heated flesh. He pulled back, slapping it again. “That’s for locking me out and ignoring me when I was at your front door.” His mouth kissed and sucked, and I moaned loudly. His hand slapped my tender flesh again. “That’s for making me wait for what’s mine.” He moved until he was kneeling between my legs, his cock pushing slowly inside my body.

  “Hard, asshole,” I demanded and he smiled as he reached for the drawer of the nightstand, pushing his cock deep into my pussy as he leaned over me to get into it. I watched him as he pulled out another pair of stockings and pushed them into my mouth, making it impossible to tell him what I wanted.

  “You’ll get it how I want to give it, Lena, and it’ll be slow this time. Because I want you to feel me,” he growled as he pulled out, and pushed back in slowly. “Feel that? How your sweet pussy is stretching to accept me perfectly? Feel how your body clenches my cock, sucking it as it accepts what I give it. You were made for me, my sexy little witch. Your body knows who owns it, who destroys it.” He pulled out, lowering his mouth to kiss it and then my thighs as he slowly touched and ran his fingers in slow, small circles where my skin was red and already bruising.

  “I missed this sweet flesh. Ever since you left my bed at the club, I’ve thought of little else than wrecking you again. I missed the sexy little noises you make when you come for me,” he whispered as he moved up to suck on my nipples.

  I felt his heavy cock resting against my stomach. I groaned, needing to feel him inside of me. I didn’t want slow and soft, because he was right: it made me feel him. I wanted mindless fuc
king, like we had when we’d destroyed his living and dining rooms. I moaned as he sucked on my pulse at the curve of my neck.

  “You hate me, and that’s okay. I can live with it,” he whispered, pinching my nipples as he slid back inside my body, taking me slowly. Tears slid from my eyes as he watched me. “You hate that you can’t really hate me; trust me, I know the feeling. I hate that I want you, too, Lena, but I love what you feel like when I’m inside of you. This,” he said pushing into me and pulling out slowly, “this is something not even I can deny. You undo me, make me weak. I need this from you, and you need it from me.”

  “Screw you,” was my muffled reply. He smiled and slapped my pussy as he slowly drove himself inside me. His movements were precise, each thrust meant to seduce and tease. Slowly, he created sensations with his fingers, his touches and slow kisses. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he had no intention of doing what I wanted him to. Mindless fucking was easy. It wasn’t messy. This slow seduction was brutal because it pushed past my walls. I felt him, inside of me. Lucian was forcing me to feel my body’s reaction to his. Each penetration into my body was another inch he moved into my soul. Breaking his way past the barriers and crumbling my defenses.

  “Keep it up and this flesh is going to be sore for weeks,” he growled as he slowly traced his fingers over my body before finding my clitoris and rubbing it. “You need to be taught who you belong to. Tell me now. Who do you belong to?” he asked, his eyes resting on my mouth with a twisted grin. “Guess it might take a while to get the lesson across, but I’m up for the challenge. That’s it,” he said as I closed my eyes and rocked my body against his as an orgasm ripped through me. “Good girl.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  And though she be but little, she is fierce. – William Shakespeare

  ~Lucian

  I moved around her cottage, noting the lack of things. Food fit for humans, for starters. Her fridge was devoid of anything; not even a stick of butter remained. I noted a bag of dry cat food and a few cans in her garbage and that was it. I fished through her garbage for anything else she might have eaten in the past week other than green beans and creamed corn. Who the fuck eats that shit with nothing else? I moved into the bedroom, slapping her naked ass hard.

  “Lena, what happened to all of your food?” Selfish prick that I was, I needed her fed. Fucking consumed energy. She needed energy, because I needed to fuck her again. She rocked my fucking world; stripping her body bare in the front yard as she’d marched up the front porch and took what she wanted fucking destroyed me. Nothing in my entire existence had ever affected me like that, but she did.

  She mumbled weakly, and I paused. My ears listened to her heart, and it was weak. I pushed her over onto her side and my cock was up. Hard, ready to pound her welcoming flesh; I couldn’t get enough of her. It felt good knowing I could fuck her until I was sated. Normally, women begged for me to stop before I was ready to, not her, though. She took everything I could give her so far, no holding back. With Lena, I achieved, I dominated, and we exploded, in that order. Lena was wild last night, and it had rocked my world, she’d rocked my world.

  “Lena, what happened to all of your food?” I repeated, touching her swollen flesh and wincing.

  I’d taken her hard, soft, then harder. When I was sure she’d had enough, she took more. I let it happen, greedy fuck that I was, I wanted it as much as her. She scared the demons off from around the house with how loudly she was coming; assholes probably assumed some priest was in here doing an exorcism. She opened her eyes, and I flinched from what I failed to see last night. She was fucking wrecked, and it had little to do with what I did to her.

  “Get up,” I ordered, watching as her eyes closed weakly. “Bloody hell,” I snapped angrily, picking her naked body up and moving through the cottage and out of it swiftly. We just went to war with our bodies, and she was ill-prepared, fucking starved for nourishment, and she never complained once. Didn’t stop, either, she gave it right back to me, tit for fucking tat.

  I moved into the main house, not giving a shit that my men stood around, dicks in their hands as they tried to divert their eyes from the wreckage from last night. Some looked impressed, and a few seemed confused. As if they weren’t sure where to start fixing what we destroyed by fucking.

  “Layton, you forget to tell me something?” I snapped; my anger was palpable, pulsing through me.

  “Did I?” he countered, eyes sliding down the sexy-as-fuck, albeit unconscious body in my arms. “Is she dead?”

  “No, but she’s close. When’s the last time she went shopping for food, or you saw her eat?” I demanded, and his eyes grew large and rounded as he started to curse.

  “She went to the store days ago, I think she might have had some trouble at the register and she left with nothing. Figured she was eating inside, you told me to keep my eyes to myself, let her have privacy. Didn’t want me eye-fucking her, so I stayed outside the grocery store and never went inside the cottage,” he admitted.

  “Stupid fuck; she’s starved and I just drove her harder than I have with anyone on stage at the club,” I growled, and listened as they made noises of surprise. Yeah, my girl, she’s a fucking rock star in the sheets. She could make a porn queen look lame in bed. Lena didn’t growl in bed, she fucking roared like a monster, like me.

  “You didn’t notice that she wasn’t fucking back?” Devlin asked, his eyes glued to her figure, and I growled low, threatening. Mine.

  “She did, all fucking day and night long. She took what I gave, and then she took more.” I let that sink into their heads; listened as they whistled, and pride swelled my chest. They know exactly what I am, and what I can do, and she’d kept up with me. I fucked hard, she fucked harder. “Get food, now,” I ordered, stepping over what was left of the furniture she and I fucking destroyed. She didn’t do wild sex; she went to war when she fucked. She wasn’t weak anymore, held back by limitations of being human, she was a fucking hurricane.

  I moved her to my room and covered her up, then ran my fingers through my hair at my own stupidity. She moaned, and I had to force myself not to crawl between her thighs. She was mid Harvest, and she’d tried to suppress that urge to ride it out on her own. I should have been there, should have fucking realized it. Instead, I’d been hunting for Katarina with Spyder, enjoying the thrill of finding the clues that might lead to her…and found nothing. Meanwhile, Lena had been alone, hungry, and dealing with an almost unbearable urge to fuck, if my memory of that spell was correct.

  I leaned over the bed, feeling her pale face. Her skin was slick with sweat, but I was fairly positive that was from fucking for hours. She whimpered, and her eyes opened to look around and she groaned as she held her stomach. She wasn’t going to be able to hold anything down, and it was driving me bugfuck crazy knowing it was on me. I’d never taken a partner to the brink of death, never. I have rules, and I hold myself to a standard. I always check vitals, make sure girls are healthy, fed, ready to be taken on an adventure of sexual awareness they won’t ever forget, but Lena…Fuck, with her, it was like I was fucking greenhorn fumbling around in the dark. She made me forget things, turned me into someone who fucking cared.

  I moved around the bed, considering my options. She was fading fast; the bouts of vigorous sex tapped her already stressed-out body. Her pulse was already slowing, and she was spiraling towards the drain. There were a lot of things I could heal, but it would take time and I needed to fix this fast. Fuck! Women who are starved to death don’t fuck like that; they sure as hell don’t initiate it.

  I knew where I could go for a fix that would save her, but the idea of asking for help wasn’t appealing. I needed to figure out a way around it. I thought about how I should look that would be the most intimidating and a black suit with a crisp white dress shirt and black tie appeared on my frame. I paused for a moment, listening to her breathing as
it grew labored, and I exhaled deeply.

  I displaced molecules, severed time and space, and re-formed inside Vlad’s bar. It was darker than usual as I looked towards the bar, and noted it was packed with Fae, and from the look of it, the increase of Lucifer’s foot soldiers on this plane hadn’t gone unnoticed. They had one laid out on the bar.

  Stakes held him firmly in place while Ryder dripped what I assumed was holy water over the demon’s forehead and it screamed and cursed, and I paused, watching them from the shadows. My eyes searched the tables; looking for the kid I knew Vlad had been hanging around with lately. I finally spotted his shaggy, longer brown hair in the crowd and he was with one of the regular fang-bangers, Rebekah, who had dark blond hair flowing down to her ass. The banger had goo-goo eyes for Ryder, who couldn’t be bothered to notice she even fucking existed.

  I watched as the kid pulled her towards the open doorway in the extended hallway. Vlad’s version of a sex club and mine differed, hugely. He looked at the bar, and his eyes slid over Synthia, who didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were only for Ryder.

  As far as I was concerned, it was a fucking soap opera in this place; everyone longed to fuck everyone, and it had a simple fix: Throw them all in a room, and let them fuck it out.

  Ryder looked around as if he sensed me, and I smiled. No one senses me unless I allow them to. I moved through the shadows, allowing myself to blend in with them. The kid closed the door to the small room, but I was used to it; doors didn’t keep me out, and neither did wards.

  I watched as he pushed her against a wall, kissing and touching the girl who giggled pathetically. Lovely, the girl was imagining the kid was Ryder, and he was imagining she was Synthia; both were fucking failing with their fantasies. He was limp, she was dry, but both more than willing to fake it for a blood fix, which most of the regulars here are rewarded with. If the vamps fed from them regularly, they had to replace a bit of it. It was simple fucking logic; Vlad was smart, and didn’t want bodies piling up. He’d been doing it for a long time.