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Wretched: Chapter 21


Iknew he was following me.

And I know he’s lying about more than he lets on. So do I trust him? Absolutely not.

But I wasn’t lying when I said I’m upset I lost control. After Nessa’s death, I’ve worked incredibly hard on maintaining my temper—on making sure my impulse issue is under lock and key. I never mastered it while she was alive and doing so in death is one of the ways I’ve tried to honor her memory.

Lately, it’s been severely lacking, which makes me feel as though I’m disrespecting her. Disappointing her, the way I do everyone else.

But then there’s him.

This man. This complete stranger. And he’s on his knees for me.

I’m under no illusion that him giving up control is easy. The entire reason we’re at each other’s throats is because there’s a constant struggle of me trying to keep it while he takes it away. But there’s something there, in between the vitriol and the animosity. A silver lining that’s warm and soft around the edges, urging me to sink into what he’s giving.

His fingers dig into my waist and my arms tremble as they push against the back of his hands. I close my eyes, my heart beating so quickly I feel it in my neck. Lips press into my lower back and chills skirt up my spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through my center.

And I know this isn’t right. I hate him, and he tolerates me at best. But my nerves are ricocheting off the edges of my body, sending a prickling anxiety stabbing through my insides, and when he touches me, it soothes the sting.

So I’ll indulge. Just for a bit.

I twist my body until I’m facing him and my stomach tenses when our eyes meet. My hoodie is bunched up slightly from his hands, and his breath coasts across the sliver of skin that’s peeking from beneath the fabric. I reach down, lifting the hem of the sweatshirt and my tank top underneath, raising them over my head and dropping them on the floor. I’m not wearing a bra, and my nipples harden from having his eyes on me.

His dark-brown curls are wild, one wayward strand falling across the top of his forehead, and I run my fingers over it, pushing it off his face and tangling my fingers through his silky strands.

Beautiful,” he rasps, leaning in and sucking one of my breasts into his mouth.

I gasp at the wet sensation, his tongue swirling around the nipple, his teeth biting down until pain turns into pleasure.

“Take off my pants,” I demand.

He releases my breast with a slick pop, the cool air causing goose bumps to spread across my body. His hands move languidly, dragging down my sides and over my hips until he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of my leggings and tugs. The fabric scrapes against my thighs as he pushes them down, and I stand still, arousal clouding my vision as he strips me bare. They pool around my ankles and he surges back up, lifting me by the waist and planting me next to the sink. The cold of the counter bites into the skin of my ass and I suck in a breath at the sudden chill against my heated skin.

Brayden’s gaze is locked between my legs. He removes my shoes and discards my leggings before tracing his palms back up, squeezing my inner thighs.

I open them wider to give him a good view.

“Flesh stays no further reason than rising at thy name,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose along my slit.

My abs tense. “Are you quoting Shakespeare to my pussy?”

He presses a soft kiss to the top of my clit. “You love it.”

“I don’t.” I do.

He moves back, a devilish smirk gracing his face. “I lie with her, and she with me.” He pauses, and then suddenly his tongue is on me, swirling in small circles around the sensitive nerves. I whimper, heat shooting down my legs.

His tongue disappears. “And in our faults by lies we flattered be.”

My chest warms, desire winding like a rope around my core and up my spine. I think I like him this way.

“You don’t have to trust me, Eveline. But words are your safe space, the same way that they’re mine.”

My fingers thread through his hair.

“Let me be your calm in the chaos, pretty girl.”

Emotion swarms through my chest and slams behind my eyes so quickly it makes me lose my breath, but before I can process the feeling, his mouth is on me again, devouring me like a man desperate to prove his worth.

My muscles tighten, tingles sprinkling across my abdomen and pooling between my legs. My body jerks when he licks my clit, his fingers massaging the inside of my thighs.

“Yes,” I moan, throwing my head back. “Suck it.”

He does, closing his lips around me and pulling the bundle of nerves into his mouth, the tip of his tongue torturing me, slow suction mixed with languid licks, over and over, until the tension spreads so thin it’s about to snap.

And then I come apart, exploding on his tongue and crying out, grinding myself against his face while my vision goes black. He doesn’t stop his ministrations and I rip his head away once I become too sensitive. He grins, his mouth glistening from the mess he’s made.

“Come here,” I say.

His arms cage me in immediately as he stands and I pull his face to mine, licking along his lips before dipping in his mouth.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he groans. “Suck yourself off my tongue and see how good you really taste.”

My core throbs from his words and I meld our lips together, the musky taste of me mixed with everything him making my eyes roll.

His arms wrap around me tightly, his hips moving between my legs until his jean-covered erection presses against my bare pussy.

I pull away, hopping down from the counter and pressing my hand against his torso to push him back until his legs hit a kitchen chair.


He does.

“You’re right. You do follow directions incredibly well.” Smiling, I bend over him and lift his shirt, tossing it to the side, my eyes drinking in the sharp lines and muscles of his torso. I grab at his belt, undoing the buckle and sliding it from the loops. “Put your hands behind the chair.”

His brow lifts but he does as I ask. I walk behind him, slipping my fingers over his, and turning his palms to face each other before wrapping his belt around the outside and tying them together. Anticipation lights up my middle, desire blossoming from how much power he’s giving me.

Sauntering back to his front, I kneel between his legs, sliding my hands up his thighs until I get to the top of his pants and undo the button. He lifts his hips, helping me undress him. My heart beats out of my chest as I pull down his clothes, allowing his cock to bob free. It’s so hard and thick that it’s physically pulsing, and my mouth waters at the sight.

“Do your wrists feel okay?” I ask.

I don’t want him to be in pain, especially since I know he’s only doing this for me. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip and he nods, his eyes blazing as they stare into mine. I reach out and grip him. He jerks in my hand and I grin, stroking from base to tip, wanting to make him feel as crazy as I do for him.

“Do you trust me?”

He grunts, a bead of precum leaking from his head. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s smarter if you don’t,” I reply honestly.

My chest twists and I rise up slightly, just enough to press a light kiss on his lips. It’s tender and quite frankly, unwelcome, but I allow the softer moment, wanting to show my gratitude for what he’s giving.

There’s something so attractive about one person submitting completely to another, of being at their mercy, accepting whatever they see fit to give you.

I want to consume him and revel in his surrender.

His gaze never leaves mine as I bend down over his rigid dick, blowing small puffs of air against him until his muscles tense and his hips buck.

“You like watching me, don’t you?” I ask.


My tongue slips out and runs along the length of his shaft, and I know that if he really wanted to, he could easily escape his restraint and take control.

The fact that he doesn’t makes me desperate to reward him.

Another lick. This time, I make sure the flat of my tongue with my piercing hits his head, and I circle the sensitive flesh, hoping the added sensation drives him wild.

He groans and thrusts his hips, his cock slapping against my parted lips. I grip him at the base and move back slightly, staring at the thick vein that runs along the length of him, feeling the pressure grow heavy deep in my abdomen. I lower myself again, applying the lightest pressure as I move my face down, the inside of my cheeks barely brushing against his skin. I reach up, my nails scratching against his balls. They immediately tense up, his cock jumping in my mouth.

He groans when I pull away, tossing his head back. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“These things must be done delicately,” I say. “But I like having you at my mercy.”

He stares down at me, his eyes wild and his jaw clenching. Still, he doesn’t try to jerk himself free.

“You’re being such a good boy.” I smile. “Should I suck your cock as a reward?”

“Please,” he whispers, moving his hips as much as he can while his arms are tied behind his back.

I lower my mouth and swallow him until he hits the back of my throat, my cheeks hollowing out as I suck. The salty taste of him makes wetness drip down the inside of my thighs, and I moan which causes him to jolt forward. I gag when he hits the back of my mouth, and his cock throbs on my tongue. I push farther until he breaks the resistance and slips down my throat, my eyes watering. My lips reach his base and I move my tongue, pressing it against his shaft, trying not to cough as he starves me of my air.

“Goddamn,” he groans.

When I can’t take anymore, I move back, thin lines of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to my lips, spit dripping down my chin and onto the top of my chest. My esophagus burns but the pain makes my pussy throb, so I breathe in deep and dive back down, starting a quick motion of jerking him off with my mouth and tongue until I feel him swell and his balls tense in my hands.

I pull off quickly, and he moans, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths.

“Naughty boy, trying to come before I tell you to.” I move from my knees, running my palms up his heated skin until my arms are wrapped around his neck and my ass is in his lap, his thick cock pressed against my slick pussy.

“Do you want to come, baby?” I whisper against his lips, grinding down on top of him.

Fuck, yes,” he grits out.

“Tell me.”

He surges forward, his breath ghosting across my neck and sending a chill down the length of my body. “I want you to use me up until you’ve had your fill, then let me come inside you.”

My core contracts painfully, and I grip his face in my hands, smashing our lips together until our teeth clack and our tongues collide.

His cock is there, right there at my entrance, and I lift my hips slightly.

We moan into each other’s mouths when he slips inside, and my walls clench around him. I feel so fucking full.

I move my hips back and forth, matching the rhythm of our sloppy kiss, my clit rubbing against his groin with every pass.

“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips. “I’m close.”

Moving my hand down the front of my body, I start to bounce up and down, my muscles tightening until it feels like I’ll burst from the tension. And then I shatter, my pussy milking him as I cry out. He captures the moan and swallows it for himself.

He follows shortly after, his hips slamming into mine as he holds himself deep, his cock pulsing wildly as he pumps his cum deep inside.

I collapse against him, my ears ringing and my vision hazy. Reaching around the back of the chair, I fumble with his belt until his wrists are free. Immediately, they wrap around me, pulling me tighter to him. I rest my face against his chest as he presses a kiss against the top of my head, and I feel… content.

Almost like happiness is right here, waiting for me to reach out and grab it.

So I sink into the moment, closing my eyes to the sound of his beating heart.

And when he leaves an hour later, saying he has to go grab Dorothy, because he’d hate to break his promise, that feeling I was so close to holding evaporates into dust.


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