The heel of his palm was so intense against my clit, I thought I might combust on the spot. The thrust of his fingers so brutal, like he cared not for any pain he caused me since it was laced with pleasure too.
“Dirty girl, begging to come.”
“Please.”
“So desperate. So needy. Just like the dirty little bitch you are.”
I shuddered at his harsh words. They made me feel like being a bad girl for him so he’d punish me again. So he’d call me names and tell me what a naughty girl I was. So he’d fuck me so hard, I couldn’t walk. I wanted to feel his darkness surrounding me. I wanted to drown in Rory.
“Ror,” I cried out as he sucked hard on my neck. He’d leave me with a fucking hickey, but I didn’t care about it or what the boys might say. I didn’t care about anything else at all except me, him and this feeling. This need.
“Mine,” he growled. “Fucking mine.”
“Yours.”
He kissed the mark I knew he’d made.
“Come for me, little star.”
I shattered on command. The release rushed through me, jellifying my limbs as the waves crashed and sucked me under. I opened my mouth on a scream but no sound came out, locked in a haze of pleasure, rendering me completely at Rory’s mercy. The little mercy he had for me.
The only reason I was still standing when I’d stopped shaking was because Rory held me up. He’d pulled his fingers from my pussy and both of his arms were wrapped around my waist, his face still buried in my neck. I pressed myself harder against him, my chest heaving. I wanted to bury myself inside Rory and never leave. My beautiful broken man with more demons than I could imagine. I wanted to set him free.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “My northern star… guiding me home.”
“Is that why you call me little star?” I croaked out.
“You’re my little northern star.”
I almost choked up knowing the truth behind his pet name for me. The pattern of stars across his bedroom ceiling made so much sense. He liked the dark, but he needed the stars so he didn’t feel so alone in the void.
“If you let me go, I’m afraid I might fall over.”
He raised his head from my neck. I felt the rumble of his chest as he laughed. Then he brought his fingers up, still slick from my arousal. I looked up just in time to see him stick them in his mouth. His eyes met mine as he cleaned me from his hand, simmering with heat and satisfaction. I swallowed, unable to form words.
When he was done, he pulled me over to his sofa and sat me down. My jelly limbs were thankful to be sitting and not having to hold me up any longer. He wandered back over to his shelves and picked out a couple of things from it. One looked like a comic and the other a graphic novel. He took a seat next to me and handed the graphic novel to me.
“You might like this.”
I looked it over and smiled. I’d taken to reading all his female superhero comics. Today he’d given me a Birds of Prey graphic novel. Cautiously, I shifted closer to him. When he didn’t look scared or uncomfortable, I put my head in his lap and stared up at him. His hazel eyes were dark, still lingering with arousal from earlier. I could feel him pressed up against the back of my head, but I didn’t comment on it. If he wasn’t ready to let me pleasure him in return, I wasn’t going to push the subject even if I wondered what he’d feel like against my tongue. If he’d fuck my mouth just as brutally as he’d fucked my pussy with his fingers.
“Is this you helping me still?”
I smiled. The more I touched him or was around him, the easier things between us became.
“No… I just want to be close to you.”
So he’d know what I was doing, I moved slowly before pressing my lips to his abdomen, right where his scar lay. His eyes went wide but he didn’t object. I settled back down and opened the novel, starting to read. After a few minutes, I saw him open his own comic and was safe in the knowledge he wasn’t going to push me off him.
I don’t know how long we were reading for, but at some point, I drifted off with the novel laid out on my chest. I was semi-awake when he picked me up off the sofa and took me over to his bed, settling me down after he’d pulled back the covers. Carefully, he tugged my jeans off me which I hadn’t bothered re-buttoning. Then he draped the covers over me and leant down, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Ror, don’t go,” I mumbled, voice groggy with sleep.
He froze, probably having not known I was awake when he put me in his bed. I shouldn’t have asked him to stay, but I was so tired and my walls were down. The vulnerability I felt regarding our relationship showed through. My body called for his. My heart yearned for everything Rory. As much as I respected the way he was, I couldn’t help wishing I had more. He’d told me he couldn’t give me the affection the others did, but I wasn’t sure I believed that. Whilst he handled me with brutality at times, he was also soft and reverent. I needed more of that side of Rory in the moments I wasn’t electrified by the lust permeating the air.
I let out a breath when he moved away, burrowing myself further into his covers. Smelling his scent all around me. It clung to his sheets. It was earthy and fresh. I loved everything about it. It didn’t replace
