Chapter 641 | The Sadism Trait Offers No Support

Chapter 641: 641 | The Sadism Trait Offers No Support

I cupped her breast in my right hand and her nipple hardened against my palm and the sound she made was a whimper that she chased with a grind of her hips that pressed her center against the growing evidence that I had noticed everything she was showing me.

My thumb rolled across the peak and Felicity’s fingers tightened in my hair until the sting radiated across my scalp and the Sadism trait purred somewhere in my chest because it did not distinguish between pain given and pain received. Both felt like fuel.

Felicity pulled my hand from her breast and brought my fingers to her mouth and wrapped her lips around my index and middle finger and sucked, her blue eyes locked on mine the entire time, her tongue working against the pads of my fingertips with a commitment that sent a direct signal from my brain to the part of me that was already straining against my trousers. She released my fingers with a wet sound and a smile that showed teeth.

"I’m going to tell you something and you’re going to believe me," she said, her voice rough and low.

"I like it rough. I like being grabbed. I like when it hurts a little and I like when the person doing it knows exactly how much to hurt me. I’ve been thinking about you putting your hands on me and not being gentle about it since the day you carried me from the plaza, and every time you’ve been careful with me and every time you’ve been kind I have appreciated it and also wanted to scream because careful is not what I need from you tonight."

My hand found the back of her neck and closed. Not enough pressure to restrict anything. Enough pressure to communicate that I had heard every word and believed her.

Felicity’s entire body shuddered. Her eyes went half-lidded and dark and her lips parted on a moan that she did not try to muffle.

"Harder," she whispered.

I tightened my grip and used it to pull her mouth to mine and the kiss was not gentle and it was not kind and it tasted like the end of three weeks of pretending that what we were doing constituted friendship.

My other hand grabbed her hip and pressed her down against me and the grind produced a sound from her throat that would have carried through standard drywall to the rooms on either side, which was a problem I would address later.

I stood from the bed with Felicity still in my lap and her legs wrapped around my waist and turned and put her down on the mattress hard enough to make the frame creak. She bounced once and her hair fanned across the pillow and the fairy lights caught her face from below and made the blue of her eyes look like something that should come with a warning label.

"Take those off," I said, and nodded at her shorts.

Felicity raised her hips and peeled the cotton shorts down her legs and kicked them off the end of the bed. The underwear underneath was white lace and she removed that too before I had finished processing the image, and she lay there on the rumpled sheets completely naked beneath fairy lights with her blonde hair spread across the pillow and her freckles trailing down her stomach and her thighs parted just enough to make a statement about exactly how finished she was with patience.

I got my trousers and everything underneath off in a single motion because my Dexterity stat did not distinguish between combat applications and the removal of clothing under time pressure, and the look on Felicity’s face when she saw me was worth every gacha pull the System had ever wasted on moisture control.

"Oh," she said, and the word carried approximately seventeen syllables. Her hand reached for me but I caught her wrist before she made contact and pinned it above her head against the pillow.

"You said rough," I reminded her.

"I said rough."

I pinned her other wrist beside the first and held both with one hand, my hundred Strength making the grip feel casual while she tested it and found nothing moving.

Her back arched off the mattress and her chest pressed up toward me and her breathing came in short sharp pulls that fogged the space between our faces.

"Oh my god," she breathed. "Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted someone to hold me down and mean it? Most guys are afraid they’ll break something. You’re not afraid of anything."

"I’m afraid of your friend list. It’s genuinely terrifying."

She laughed and the laugh turned into a moan when I lowered my mouth to her breast and pulled the nipple between my teeth with just enough pressure to ride the line between pleasure and pain. Her hips bucked upward against nothing and the sound she made was loud enough that I removed my mouth long enough to say the word "walls."

"I don’t care about walls."

"Your neighbor cares about walls."

"Petra can file a complaint with my ass." She wrapped her free leg around my hip and pulled me down against her and the contact between us was hot and wet and separated by nothing at all. "Lukas. Stop talking. Stop thinking. Stop being strategic for five minutes and just fuck me."

I released her wrists and flipped her onto her stomach in one motion that used more of my Strength than I had intended but that produced a sound from Felicity that justified every point of force.

She pushed her hips up and pressed her face into the pillow and her spine curved in a way that made the freckles across her lower back catch the fairy light. I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back just enough to see her face turned sideways on the pillow, flushed and open and wild with something she had been suppressing since the movies.

"Please," she said, and the word held nothing except what it meant.

I pushed inside her and Felicity’s entire body contracted around me and the sound she made into the pillow was high and desperate and exactly what she had been warning me about since the first sentence of this conversation.

She was tight and hot and so wet that the entry was seamless despite the force behind it, and when I bottomed out she pressed backward against me and demanded more in a voice that had abandoned language for something more primal.

The Sadism trait lit up like a switchboard. Every nerve ending in my body registered the feedback loop of pressure and heat and the specific friction of bodies locked together with intent, and the pleasure of it mixed with something darker underneath, the trait’s gift or curse depending on which morning I thought about it.

Every thrust generated stamina recovery that the Demigod trait distributed across my system, which meant that the harder I moved the more energy I had, which meant that stopping required an act of will that the Sadism trait did not support.

I set a pace that made the bed frame protest in a rhythm that would have been mortifying in any other context and Felicity matched it with her hips and her voice and her hands twisting in the sheets hard enough to pull a corner free from the mattress.

Her head came off the pillow and her back arched and she turned to look at me over her shoulder and the expression on her face was the most honest thing I had ever seen from Felicity Hardy because it contained nothing except want.

"Harder," she gasped.