Thy Kingdom Come

He grips me by the throat and arches my neck back. We’re pressed nose to nose when he whispers, “Get on yer knees.”

If I had any objection to his demands, I wouldn’t have a choice anyway as the hold he has on me is tight. But he doesn’t need to force me. I go willingly.

His hand is still around my throat, and he squeezes gently. I swallow deeply, eagerly awaiting what’s to come. I’m wet between my thighs. I can’t help it. This rough play with Punky turns me on. I know these hands have hurt, they’ve killed, but when they’ve touched me, it’s been with nothing but affection.

I confuse Punky, and that’s because he doesn’t know the truth. It’s getting harder and harder not to reveal why I’m here.

“What now?” I question, peering up at him from under my lashes.

He lets me go and calmly walks behind me. The darkness conceals the wounds on my back, but I’m certain Punky can still make them out. On a relaxed exhale, he kneels. I want to turn to see what he’s doing, but I don’t.

“Ye frustrate me, Baby,” he states into my ear, his warm breath gliding down my neck. “So it’s time I frustrate you.”

I gulp, fearful of what’s to come.

It merely takes one finger, one simple touch for me to whimper in need when he traces along the column of my neck sluggishly. He can no doubt feel the thrashing of my pulse, echoing the wanton disturbance within my chest.

He trails down my shoulder, then my arm. When he gets to the crease in my elbow, he changes direction and focuses on my stomach. With torturous circles, he caresses my navel, his large hand almost covering my belly whole.

He touches me with purpose, and that’s to drive me insane. I discreetly open my legs a little wider in a silent invitation, but Punky merely chuckles in response. My nipples are begging for some attention, as all it would take is for him to shift a little higher. But this isn’t about gratification—this is about teaching me a lesson.

“Y’know I will find out who ye are.” It’s not a question, but rather, a statement.

“I know.” My voice quivers, betraying my nerves.

“Tell me and make it easier on yerself.” He strokes inches above my pussy, always teasing, always in control.

“Nothing in my life has been easy thus far. And I don’t want it to be. I fight for what I want.”

“And what’s that?” he asks, leaving heated lashes in his wake as he continues stroking me leisurely.

“I just want to protect the people I love,” I reveal, surrendering because I want to. I’m sick of fighting him because this is a war I don’t want to win.

He hums deeply, before giving me what I want. He rubs two fingers along the seam of my pussy, before sliding them deep inside. Gasping, I sag forward, as the intrusion is a wicked kiss down low. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he anchors me, waiting for me to adjust. He then begins to move.

He fingers me slowly, almost too slow as he’s skating close to the edge, denying me the friction my body so desperately wants. When I try to place my hand over his, begging he go faster, he shrugs it away, his husky chuckles warming my ear.

I’m pi

“Punky,” I moan, writhing because he’s driving me crazy.

“Aye, wee doll?” He wants me to beg. “Frustratin’, is it?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I don’t reply and only hope he’ll give in to what we both want as I can feel his hard-on pressed into my back. It pleases me that I can stir this response in him because Punky has mastered the perfect poker face. This, however, proves he’s just as turned on as I am.

“I want that too,” he shares, sinking his fingers in and out, in and out. “Even though my ma is dead, I’ll protect her memory by killin’ those who killed her.”

He just revealed that he has no qualms killing. His admission should scare me, but it doesn’t. It only has me falling harder for him.

The way he touches me, it’s like we’ve met before, like our bodies, our souls have known one another for an eternity. I’ve been with guys before, but with Punky, it’s different. I come alive, and after being numb for so long, I’ve become addicted to the taste.

He lays a single kiss just behind my ear and the simple action coupled with what he’s doing to my body has the scorching knot within my core begi

“I should leave ye be. Yer trouble, I know that. But why can I not?”

He feels it too.

This undeniable pull will surely get us into irreparable trouble, but neither of us seem to care. This feeling liberates us both. I never want it to end.

“We’re bad for one another, Punky. One of us will get hurt,” I state, moaning when he rubs over my clit. “And that person will be…you.”

He scoffs, amused by my claims. “Yer so confident, are ya? I don’t get hurt, Baby. I’m the one who causes pain.”

To emphasize his point, he begins to finger me relentlessly. I desperately want to come, but he won’t permit it. I like and hate his dominance all in the same breath.

“And when I find out who y’are…y’ll regret not tellin’ me when ya had the chance.”

My body is a live wire, demanding a release, and when Punky plays with my clit, I think he’s going to give in. But nothing is ever that simple with him.

Rocking my hips, I encourage him to go faster, harder, but just as I gasp, on the cusp of letting go, Punky removes his fingers.

“No!” I cry, slumping forward in desperate anger.

“Imagine that, ye thought we were done,” he mocks, his deep voice filled with humor.

“Fuck you,” I snap, frustrated in every sense of the word, which causes my accent to slip and reveal what I really am…American.

He said he was going to return the favor and frustrate me—mission accomplished. He broke me, just how he knew he could.

“Ach, Amber was right then.” I’m expecting him to push me away and call me out for being the liar that I am, but he doesn’t do that.

He grips my chin, roughly tilts my neck back, and kisses the living fuck out of me. The angle is painful, but I don’t care. All that matters is this.

Our lips can’t keep up with our frantic kisses, and my body is about to explode. I need him to punish me because being an American is just the start of who I am.

“Don’t talk about her when you’re with me this way,” I caution from around his mouth. The relief at being able to expose this small part of myself to him is incredible.

I knew my accent wasn’t perfect, but I thought my performing arts degree, which I was halfway through at a community college in Illinois, would have fooled the locals. But because Amber is American, she saw through the bullshit easily.

“Thon shade of green suits ye.”

He won. I’m officially frustrated and will do anything to appease this hunger within.

Spi

He tosses his now ruined shirt to the side, latching onto my nipple as I moan, fumbling with getting his belt buckle undone. Once it’s unfastened, I unbutton his pants and yank down his zipper. The moment I slip my hand down his pants and feel him flesh to flesh, we both moan as the hunger between us just grows.

Punky isn’t wearing any underwear, and that just makes him all the more hotter. I grip his shaft and am overwhelmed by his size. I’ve been with two guys before, but they’re a distant memory because I’ve never felt this desire as I do with Punky.