KATHA

8 KATHA - MARKS AND BESTFRIENDS.

He tucked my wayward locks behind my ear followed by a budded rose just like I did back in the club. I knew he was watching.

"Wha--"

Not a moment passed before he took us to the nearest wall, pressing the entirety of his muscled body against me. I also felt a certain hardness meeting and soothing the ache between my legs. I didn't realise I was arching and pushing my hips against his, desparate for that decadent friction, seeking damnation. Upon realisation I tried to push him away from me entirely but my wrists were seized above my head with one of his hands while the other was memorising the curve of my waist.

He pressed harder, a moan slipped free from my mouth.

He groaned low in his throat and latched onto my neck with not a sense of gentleness and all the intent to devour. It was like he couldn't control himself anymore. An unhinged, feral beast, feasting on the prey he'd chased and dug his claws into. And the power I felt knowing I unravelled the control of his formidable being was overwhelming. Blinding.

He sucked the skin above the dip of my collarbone. Hard. A loud whimper escaped my throat when he took the skin between his teeth and bit down. "Why, you fucking basta--" Another bite killed the reprimands in my mouth.

Slap.

"Wha--" I gasped, almost choking, when he pressed his fingers between my legs. Stroking. Up. Down. Pressing and circling. Teasing that aching bundle of nerves.

"Sto--"

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

My ass cheek was literally on fire and every hit delivered in that rapid succession had pushed me deliciously close against him. So close, I couldn't comprehend where I ended and he began. I clamped my thighs against his as he was standing in the middle of those in an attempt to take that overflowing sensations of pain transforming into liquid heat and seeping from between my thighs.

Before I could register what my body did with those sensations and before the humiliation and anger took form, he moved again.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

By the time he was done, I had tears running down my cheeks and release trickling down my thighs. I was still reeling from the aftermath of my damnation, seeing shining stars in that dark hallway. Humiliation and satisfaction was a strange mix paired with the thrill and adrenaline. I was addicted to the taste of that storm. I was addicted to the havoc it wrecked in it's wake. I didn't realise I had my nails digging into his shoulders until he took one hand and kissed my palm. Such gentleness so in contrast to watch his mouth and hands did seconds ago. The transition was addicting. Dangerous.

He held me through it all and spoke only when my breathing mellowed.

"You drew blood. Violent little vixen." He breathed heavy, still holding my hand and I realised my fingertips were indeed wet. Good. At least I could make his shoulders bleed.

"Good." I swallowed hard, trying to push my heart back to it's place.

"Count."

I thinned my lips.

"Kathavali. Count or we'll start again."

"Ten." I whimpered.

"Good girl. I want you to remember this before you speak of touching other men and letting them touch you." He said against my lips. Just brushing. Too close yet too far out of my reach.

I was breathing like I'd been under the water for all these years and just came up the surface for air.

His other hand started soothing the assualt on my back. I was as red as his handprints forming there."Shhh. Don't fight it. Don't you dare be ashamed. I've been watching you. I know you. I see right through you, Kathavali. You want this as much as I want you to stop suppressing your needs. Why are you doing this to yourself ? Hmm ? Is it the society ? But that can't be since you are my fierce, unapologetic, pretty Little gazelle. What is it then ? Maybe you never found a real man before I came along ?"