ROTTEN LOVE

COMPLETE| 29

We were a clash of teeth and lips. It's as if we both became unhinged, free from the shackles we have placed over our hearts.

His hands still restrict my arms as he tries to overpower our kiss. But my want is big too. I will him to let go and he does.

There is no complaint from him. The amount of time I lose his touch is a millisecond. The moment my arms are free, I raise them like a child wishing to be picked up by their daddy.

Except I'm no child. He complies and lifts me off the floor. My legs wrap tightly around him.

There is nothing of importance in this moment besides Zain and I. He is almost solely responsible for taking those I love away from me, yet I can't dispute that my body wants him. My soul craves him.

It could be because we were predestined. Perhaps, the fates tried to connect my mother and his father through us. We are merely tools for a higher agenda that we are unaware of.

The point is this moment with him feels long overdue and I can't seem to stop myself or have the want to stop myself.

My lips search for peace in his but I feel conflict. It's overwhelming and I want to drown myself with him.

Sensing my internal turmoil, he slams us into the wall. The sting is painfully blissful. The impact loosens my hold on him. I desperately readjust and cling harder.

"If I don't get inside you soon, I'm going to combust," Zain mumbles into my lips.

His words were like a prayer answered.

"Then why aren't your clothes off yet," I ask as I cling to his shirt.

There is a rumble in his chest and I shiver with delight. He quickly lifts his hands and I assist taking his shirt off. His warm flesh heats more than my body. Starts to melt me from the inside out.

But I wanted more than his flesh against me. I want him on me, inside me. I release my legs and hop off, making my desperate attempt to free the part of him that will make me feel undeniably whole.

He pushes my hand away and I scrunch my eyebrows at him.

"Move," I order.

He gives me a devilish smirk before forcefully spinning me around, my back toward his front. He pulls me against him by my neck. I jerk my head to the side and up to meet his lips.

His lips caress mine. As his hand rests possesively over my neck, keeping me firm against him, I feel his bulge slightly above my backside.

I moan against him and he slides his tongue inside my mouth. The push and pull of our tongues reminds me how much I want something else inside.

"Quite the little whore," he says against my lips as he slowly pulls away to gaze me in the eyes.

His voice is so smooth and silky that I completely pass the content of his words until he speaks again.

He lowers his lips against my ears and the whisper brings shivers down my spine.

"Can your bloodsucker make you feel this? Can he bring you to the edge without plunging into you?"

I turn my head but his hands grab mine and lead them to the wall. I lean against it as he leans against me.

The move is quick and meant to shut any protest. It angers me but I remember this is what I asked of him, to be free of any relationship with him.

I don't want kind words, sweet kisses, or praises. I don't want to fall for my mate. I want to hate him, to believe the things that are coming out of his mouth so that I don't make the mistake of blind loyalty toward him.