Serpentine Desires

The predator

I stepped back, barely able to contain the twisted grin that tugged at the corners of my lips.

Watching her freeze up like a deer in headlights, her muscles went stiff and breath catching in her throat like she was bracing for the worse—I couldn't help but find it absolutely delightful.

Now that I realise, I had been finding a lot of enticing things about her. The way she batted her lashes knowing she pissed me off, the slight scrunch of her nose, the mole under her eyes, and the soft tint of crimson that painted her cheeks.

The way she clenched around me, the soft moans, the loud screams and cries. Ah.... I should stop thinking about that. The more I think, the more I'd be tempted to take her raw. And looking at her, I wonder if she'd be able to take me in her tight little cunt.

The poor thing, trying so hard to keep it together, but the cracks were showing.

And I could feel that delicious tension wrapping around my insides, tightening like a noose, and damn, if it didn't feel good.

I let my fingers drift from her cheek, watching as her eyes flickered, a slight tremor running through her.

The urge to break her, to see how far I could push her before she shattered, was almost unbearable. My little bird was so fragile, so scared. And I was the predator circling her, waiting for the right moment to strike.

I wanted more. Always more. To see her crumble, to watch that spark of defiance flicker out, to know she was completely and utterly mine. And the best part? She would start to realize it, too.
The moment I stepped away, her breath came out in a shaky rush, her relief so obvious it was laughable.

I could see the way her chest heaved and those delicious nipples all erect and begging for my attention. This suits her, and she should start leaving that damn bra behind.

It made her look pathetic. Yet somehow, so fucking alluring.

I deserved a good blow-job for not touching her tits and devouring her on the spot.

Instead, I ripped off my bloodstained blazer, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Fuck. I hate messy work. And today I had zero to none patience to deal with some thugs.

I raised my head to look at her.

Her eyes locked onto the blazer, widening with that sweet, dawning realization of just how deep she'd sunk into the pit. But she stayed rooted to the spot, not even a twitch. Didn't run. Didn't scream.

Good girl. Just the way I like it.

I was about to take a step closer, to reach out and drag her back into that dark place where she belonged, when a knock echoed through the room. I rolled my eyes and a snarl curled on my lips.

Cockblocking had become Kyle's new favorite pastime, it seemed.

The bastard always had the worst fucking timing.
My eyes cut to the door, and for the first time in nearly two minutes, I felt anger simmering just beneath the surface, but I paused, catching the way my little bird's shoulders slumped.

Kyle's head popped in, that infuriatingly neutral expression on his face. I didn't have to say a word; he knew what this interruption meant.

The glare I shot him was enough to make him flinch, his gaze briefly dropping to the floor before he met my eyes again.

"What is it?" I almost growled resisting the urge to put a bullet into his head and finish him for good.

But the bastard was useful.

Kyle motherfucking Molotov stepped fully into the room, his eyes flicking briefly to my prey before returning to me, and did I say I wanted to rip his eye balls out?