Blood Obssession

“You need me to ruin you,” I provided, my voice dropping to a possessive growl. “To take this pretty, untouched grief and fill it with something real. Something dark. You need me to mark the inside of you or your secret to do it.” I began to move my hand. It was not a gentle rhythm. It was a claiming. A conquering. My fingers pistoned into her, deep and hard, the heel of my palm grinding against her with every thrust. “Look at my hand,” I snarled. Her eyes, glazed and unfocused, drifted down to where my fingers disappeared into her body, glistening with her own need. “These are your neighbour’s hands. They dismantle. They take apart. And right now…” I curled my fingers hard, scissoring them, and she screamed, her nails scraping on marble. “…right now, they are taking you apart. Piece by trembling piece.” Her breathing was ragged, sobbing gulps of air. Her body was a bowstring pulled taut, every muscle straining. The pleasure was a live wire, sparking through her, and I controlled the current. I slowed my thrusts, drawing my fingers almost all the way out, letting her feel the empty, aching chill before spearing back into that devastating heat. “Do you feel it?” I whispered. “The void where I am not? That’s your life before. Empty. Cold. This…You have a kid and she where you are!” I drove my fingers deep, grinding the base of my hand against her, “…this heat, this fullness… this is your life now. Mine. Say good bye to your Secret affair.” She was not in her senses anymore as she can't answer my question.She was totally consumed by pleasure and drink's effect. Her climax was building, a tsunami held back by a dam of her own shattered propriety.I could feel it in the frantic fluttering of her inner walls, in the high, keening noise in her throat. I wanted to feel it break. “Let go,” I commanded, my voice leaving no room for disobedience. “Surrender. Give me the sound. Give me the mess. Let me feel you come on the hands that could kill you.” The dam shattered. Her body convulsed, a violent, uncontrollable tremor that seized her from the core. A raw, torn scream ripped from her lips, echoing in the dark kitchen. Her channel clamped down on my fingers with a savage, rhythmic intensity, flooding my hand with her release. I worked her through it, my pace unrelenting, dragging the ecstasy out until it bordered on agony, until her screams dissolved into broken, hiccupping sobs. I slowly withdrew my fingers, bringing them to my lips. I never broke her gaze as I sucked them clean, tasting her essence salty, sweet. Her eyes were pools of shattered glass, watching me consume her surrender. “The monster is still hungry,Miss Neighbour,” I said,with a smirk, my voice thick.