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The Basilisk’s Creed: Chapter Fifty





Exactly The Same








Utter and absolute resolve.


That’s what I feel right now.


And it’s all for her.


Nothing else matters in this moment except the human girl lying naked in my bed.


“I want to fuck you so bad, Kitty-Cat,” I hear myself say, biting on her ear as I whisper the crude, honest words into it. She purrs at the sensation, gasping with every nip I take at the small ring of cartilage. “Are you going to let me, sweetheart? Hmm?”


She’s panting heavily now, her heart racing, threatening to burst out of her. I feel it beating so powerfully against my own chest that I swear it could pass for my own.


Her eyelids flutter under dark, elongated lashes, rising and falling in rapid, twitchy motions. She makes a sound; something between a whimper and a sob. It’s obvious she’s overwhelmed with both the novelty and intensity of the sensations she’s feeling.


And, by God, so am I.


I’ve had sex countless times before; fucked and been fucked in every way possible, and yet, I still can’t seem to contain myself with her. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like for her, having no prior experience with this sort of thing.


With that thought, some logical part of me urges for reason, insisting I slow down and give her time to process what’s going on even though I can’t for the life of me process any of it myself.


She’s never done this before. This will be her first time and the absolute last thing I want to do is hurt her, but she isn’t making this easy. And fuck if I can help myself right now.


But in spite of my impulsiveness, this strange, almost coercive need takes me by surprise; one that won’t let me follow through with my intentions just yet.


I have no idea what comes over me, but suddenly, I have the most irrational urge—need—to hear her actually say she wants this.


That she wants me.


“Say it,” I demand, the edge in my voice involuntary. “Say you want me to fuck you.” I grip her face firmly, my fingers digging into either side of her jaw, placing more than enough pressure to keep her eyes on mine.


Without the option of averting her gaze, she continues to stare at me, eyes pleading and glassy with unveiled lust, but her lips remain sealed.


That tells me two things:


She wants me to fuck her.


But she’s too embarrassed to say it.


The Commander in me isn’t going to take silence for an answer.


“Say it!” I demand again, my voice accompanied by an unintended growl, but the aggression behind the command definitely has a purpose.


My fingers dig into her jaw further, adding more pressure on her soft cheeks as I force her to say the words.


“If you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy, you need to tell me, Kitty-Cat,” I tease, but end up taunting myself in the process as well.


She’s drowning in her thoughts, lost in her own head as a multitude of emotions takes over her. Her thoughts have become so incoherent and jumbled up it’s hard for me to pinpoint or decipher anything—not that I’m coherent enough myself to begin with. But I do know that, just like before, she’s conflicted; her lust, desire, need, apprehension, fear, and doubt are all working together to confuse the fuck out of her.


She blinks several times, her lovely eyelids rising and falling rapidly, and I know she’s mustering the courage to tell me what I want to hear.


“I-I…I want… I w-want you to fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice a timid yet sensual whisper.


Pure heat emanates from her skin and her face comes ablaze with the embarrassment of hearing the obscene words come out of her own mouth; embarrassment and even more arousal.


Precisely what I want.


“You want me to come inside, sweetheart?” I push, not recognizing the sound of my own hoarse voice as I graze her nose with mine. “To come in that pretty little pussy of yours and fill it up?”


“Yes,” she whimpers, her body trembling with need beneath me, and I can tell she’s having a hard time believing she actually wants this; that she actually wants me.


I feel completely uninhibited, even more domineering than usual. She’s a virgin, absent of any real sexual experience and yet, somehow, she seems to bring out the raunchiest parts of me and encourages my deeper perversions.


I nod, my nose gently brushing against hers again. “That’s good, sweetheart,” I say, my lips hovering over her mouth. “Cause I have lots to give you. So much it’s gonna spill out of that pretty little pussy. Would you like that?”


Before she can answer, I kiss her hard, tugging at her full lips and sucking them into mine aggressively before looking at her again. She meets my gaze and, without hesitation, her mouth parts for more.


Fuck. Yes!


If I thought she was blushing before, her face is one hell of an inferno now. She’s so flustered she actually feels hot to the touch.


My hand instinctively finds her neck again, my fingers wrapping around its slender circumference, feeling each vibration from the erratic pulsations in her jugular.


God, she’s stunning; in a way I just can’t truly describe. She’s just so…elusive. A fucking enigma if I ever saw one in my life.


And I’ve seen plenty.


Her own hand reaches out to touch my face, caressing me tentatively, her slender fingers gliding across my skin sensually.


I grip her wandering wrist impulsively and bite into her palm, eliciting a highly pleasured yelp from her full, swollen lips.


“Oh, yes,” she cries out in a surprised moan, her raspy voice leaving her with hints of a sob as the fingers of her free hand dig into my shoulder.


A sigh of contentment rolls out of me at the sound and feel of her encouragement, and I want nothing more than to bury my face in her pussy.


“You have pretty hands, Kitty-Cat,” I say, holding her slender palm up to my face as I observe the impression of the bite mark I just placed on it, the superficial imprint taking on a reddish tint as blood rushes to its surface. “Really pretty…hands…”


My mind slows for a moment as I continue to look at her small palms and her slender fingers. Her hands really are beautiful and—


Time stops for a split second and I freeze as something heavy dawns on me; something that’s staring me right in the face.




Her hands!


Those fingerprints…


I’ve seen them before.


They’re the same ones embedded on the Atlantic floor.


Exactly the same…




Series Navigation<< The Basilisk’s Creed: Chapter Forty-NineThe Basilisk’s Creed: Chapter Fifty-One >>
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