Murder Mystery - H.S

57*

* Hi, if you're participating in Ramadan I would just like to clarify that this chapter does contain sexual scene. If you would like to skip, you can scroll down till you see the stars!

Trigger warning:
Mentions of self-harm, body dysphoria, and body changes.

Juliet.

Eighteen months.

"Fuck." I threw my head back and inhaled sharply, his rough, strong hands running down my naked body and his soft lips pressing a kiss all over my neck, leaving a trail of wet open-mouth kisses. My hand reaches for the sheets and scrunches them under me. Addicted to pleasure.

My eyes fluttered open, struggling to look at him, watching the way his ruffled black hair stuck to his sweaty, soft pale skin, sweat rolling down his toned muscular chest, brown eyes piercing into me as he concentrated on the pleasures of my body. He runs his hand through his hair, his thrusts becoming sharper. I cry out, arching my back and shooting up to hold onto him, biting down on my lips to keep the noise in. "Faster please." I cry out, my eyes fluttering shut and my breath becoming heavier with each sharp thrust.

"Please—I've been a good girl." He hums, lowering his head down until our lips press against each other. His soft, wet, warm lips savor each second of mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, and the kiss becomes messy, lustful—desperate.

"Good fucking slut." He whispered against my raw lips, his thick Italian accent surrounding me and disappearing into the air. "Just like that." He held my face in the palm of his large, rough-but-soft hands. Suddenly, he pulled away and I gasped, crying harder, tears streaming down my red cheeks.

"Denver." I gasped. My eyes shoot to look at him. He didn't let me register it; his hands landed on my hips, spinning me around until I was on all fours. "Hands behind your back, you fucking slut."

I whimpered at his dominance, feeling submissive to him. I'm absorbing him—feeling his tip run up and down my wet pussy—and my head falls on the mattress, only for Denver to grab a fist full of my black hair and force my head back up, lips near my ear.

"Behave." He murmured. His voice sends chills down my bare back. Denver suddenly pushes into me so quickly and deeply that my mouth drops open. I screamed out, and my eyes slid shut, feeling our skin. So close—so intimate—the sound of our skins coming into contact mixing around the small room of my apartment.

"Denver please." I shake my head; his grip tightens, and pain shoots through my scalp. "You feel so fucking good." I hummed as his own moans entered my ears. His hands go to wrap around my body, lifting me softly yet so aggressively and demandingly, while his pace continues menacingly.

I couldn't take it. I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. The sound of him sliding in and out of me mixed with our moans as I trembled under his hold.

I scream out, not being able to keep my voice silent. "Fuck—just like that. Harder." I gritted through my teeth, feeling the sweat trickle down my body.

"Are you close?" He asked. Pushing deeper into me—getting lost in my head—I closed my eyes, and my mouth dropped open. I whimpered, nodding my head, and my legs started to shake—the feeling in my stomach felt like a burst of fireworks, never-ending. My hair stuck to my skin, leaving an uncomfortable feeling, but I was feeling so good. I was so close to feeling everything all at once.