Unravel Him

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Chapter 49: Crave


Unravel Him Playlist on Spotify.

Song; (WENS- Bones) & (Kelela- The High)

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His hand dips into the waistband of my shorts and straight into my panties.

My breath catches in my throat when he finds what he’s looking for, his fingers sweeping the material aside, rotating his hand so his palm laid flat against my core.

Sparks of pleasure shoot up my spine and I move my hips as though in pain.

He huffs a laugh. “Still so responsive.”

Slowly, he begun to tease me with slow strokes and gentle rubs.

I try to move, desperate for his heated touch, desperate for friction, anything.

Its not enough.

He’s giving me the hint of pleasure, giving me moments of relief only to take it away all at once.

When I try to hook my legs around his waist, his other hand shot down, pinning my hips flat on the bed, one finger slipping deep inside.

I buck, eyes wide, nails clutching his shoulder.

His mouth moves down the center of my chest, his finger rotates, slowly, a wide arc, then dips in, out, over and over.


I’m panting, teeth digging hard into my lip.

He bites the edge of my shirt, slowly lifting it up my clavicle, exposing my bra less chest to his tongue.

My nipples pebbled beneath the air as he swirls his hot mouth over my right areola, worshiping the skin, moistening the tip with gentle licks.

I crane my head into the pillows, my fingers twisting into the sheets when I feel him insert a second finger.

Too much.

Too hard.

So good.

When his mouth closes around my left nipple, I gasp, losing my grip, allowing his name to slip past my pressed lips.


I raise a hand to my mouth, biting down hard on my wrist as my thighs tremble, both from the effort of holding on and giving in.

I try, really hard, to hold my voice, to keep it in.

But he’s rubbing the head of my clit, changing the motion of his fingers in a way that makes a spot in my center, shake.

“Please, oh please.”

I'm growing wetter, hotter, he's everywhere, kissing, biting, sucking, leaving marks like delicate trails of breadcrumbs.

I slip a hand into his hair, tugging the silky strands.

When he kisses the spot just above my rib cage, I release my wrist and groan, tightening my grip on his hair.

“I... I love you,”

He sits up quickly, eyes filling with an emotion I can’t understand as he rested on the heels of his feet, breath tearing out of his chest.

I sit up with him, breath heaving, chest exposed.

He’s staring down at my features, his fingers clench at his sides, his gaze hot and filled with need.

I reach for him, unafraid of what I’m revealing by doing this. He's mine isn't he? I want him to know I was his. “I love you...”

I’m not afraid anymore.

In one move, he slips his shirt off and lets it fall somewhere on the side of the bed. My shorts and panties are dragged down, his fingers now impatient for more.


I barely have time to question what he’s doing before he grasp both my thighs together and spreads them apart, head dipping down to my core, his tongue pressing flat.

The sensation stuns me and I have to hold my breath when he doesn’t give me time to adjust.

Oh fuck-

His mouth is relentless, moving quickly against my clit, stimulating sounds and feelings from me I can’t control.

My hands grab at his hair, silently urging him to slow down, I can’t take this, its too much.

He goes faster.

I’m practically squeezing my thighs together, hoping to stow the rapidly building pleasure that came from his strokes.

His fingers dig into the back of my knees, his broad shoulders rolling forward, his whole body raising in a way that his tongue pushes deeper, igniting fire.

I throw my head back, moaning loud. “Fuck, Thomas!”

He’s not stopping.

He’s determined to get me to come.

He wants me to come.

Its too intense, its too much, its-

His eagerness, his urge, his desperation, I don’t question why he wants this so badly because I am consumed by firelight, my body too hot my voice too hoarse.

When his teeth gently graze the top of my clit, I lose momentum and fall, hard, the pleasure crashing into my chest, my breath lost in the air, my voice stuck in between a groan and a word.

Oh my god.

My head spins as my vision returns, my gaze foggy even as Thomas straightens himself, sliding his figure back on top of me, his fingers gently grazing the top of my thigh while the other held my chin in place.

“Say it again,”

I look up to his blue green eyes, watching the moonlight reflect his moist lips and dark intentions.

He’s given me so much, he’s given me he’s everything and even though we’ve spoken those three words at each other before, this moment feels different.

The meaning is deeper.

So, slowly, my hands drift up to the back of his neck, caressing the ends of his hair there. “I love you,”

He kisses me, hard, passionately, slow then gentle.

I taste myself, I taste a hint of him too.

I taste everything.

When I pull away, desperate to breathe, he’s there, taking it away again, claiming me, over and over until I’m blinded by nothing else but him.

“So sweet,” I tease, breathless, hearing him hum lowly in response.

“Not sweet.” His chest is rising and falling, matching the rhythm of my heart.

“Just, hungry.”

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Nails raking against skin.

Breaths moving with one another.

“Fuck,” The word rolled off my tongue as I tossed my head back.

My hands are at his chest, my breasts heaves with each exhale as we move, up, down, up and down.

He feels so good, he feels so, so good.

I crave him, I crave every part of him, every inch of him.

Thomas places one hand at my waist whilst the other drags up my bare stomach, going to knead and caress the skin along the way.

He shifts his knees, so the back of his heels allowed more room for control, pushing himself inside me with paced, languid movements.

Our clothes lay strewn across the floor, my red hair is sticking to my face.

He sits up and grasp my hair, twinning it around so his mouth is on mine, claiming me deftly.

I stop moving, daze, but he doesn’t, instead, he grasp my hips with his hands and begin to rock with me, back and forth, going so deep in I’m startled by the zing of pleasure that bursts across my eyes.

“Oh, god-” My nails dig into his shoulders as I hug him, holding on for life, eyes squeezed shut, mouth moving into a silent groan.

He shudders beneath me, grip tightening, chin resting on the crook of my neck where I hear his voice, husky and hoarse. “You feel so good...

The feeling is exquisite.

It feels pure, hot, blinding, erotic.

I don’t remember how this happened.

I don’t remember how our lips clashed and our fingers clawed at clothes so we could feel the skins beneath.

All I know is that, he was inside me, he was kissing me, he was touching me like a starved man, reminding me that I belonged to him.

There was passion involved, but there was also a lot of frustration.

Frustration for not being open with one another, frustration with everything that’s happened.

So many things, have happened.

Because this was fucked up, everything was fucked up, he was fucking me, a murderer, a person who loved blood lust, a person who craved it.

Yet, he was touching me like that didn’t matter.

Because deep down inside,

He loved that about me.

“Thomas.” His name leaves my lips and I suddenly find it very hard to hold on.

“Fuck, I can’t-”

“Yes... you can.” We’re pressed so close together that our noses touch and our lips brush.

“You’re going to feel, every inch of me, in every crevice...”

Thomas flips us over, never once breaking the pace. He urges my hands above my head and lock them still so I can feel the headboard dig beneath my fingers.

“I want you sore, I want you breathless, I want you begging-


I barely caught my breath when his left hand wandered down between us and pushed deep into my folds, rubbing enthusiastically that I cry out in agony and pleasure.

He smiles, a wicked cunning expression that both terrified and exhilarates me.

“Beg, baby.”

He bites the skin beneath my ear and surges into me, the power of his thrust, jolting my entire being.

The bed is shaking, the springs are squeaking, I feel hot and cold, warm and cool.

I raked my nails down his back, gasping.

No, I won’t beg.

His pace is increasing, I’m struggling to contain the breaths that tear out of my chest but it is impossible.

I won’t... beg.

His hot mouth find my ear and he glides along the shell, licking the skin.


I’m forced to grab onto the headboard as the rocking of his thrusts becomes too powerful.

Its too much, I can’t hold it, I can’t contain it.

“You asked if I was afraid of what you did,” He slows down, almost halting entirely, taking me away from the edge I so desperately crave.


“What if I told you... I was fascinated?”

His cock is pulsing, I feel it throb in between my thighs and squeeze my legs together. “Thomas, please.”

I’m squirming, both in confusion and need, mind too haze over to understand.

Don’t stop, now.

He traces his fingers down my cheek and palm the side of my neck, tilting my head to the side so he could catch the corner of my lips. “Intrigued...?”

I arch my back, letting my nipples graze his chest, a silent demand for more.

He sucks the path down my throat, leaving teeth marks.

“When I saw you in the Ring, I wanted to kiss you, I wanted to kill you, fuck, I wanted to bury myself inside you right then and there.”

Please, please...

I’m so raw and vulnerable that it feels like I’m seconds from imploding.

He nuzzles a path down my chest, sucking my breasts and the curve of the skin there, taking tentative care.

“What you’ve done, what you’ve achieved in so little time... it turns me on.

I let out a cry when he grasp hold of my thighs and pummeled in deep, his balls slapping at the curve of my backside.

It feels so full, I feel so full.

“Oh, god-”

His lips curve into a wicked sneer, as he bore down on me, with clear intent. “Think of all the things we could do,”


Then his pace quickens, our breaths mingle and our minds go over, filled to the brim with pleasure and sensuality.

I bite my lip when the pleasure at my lower abdomen began to gather, spiking an erratic feeling inside me that I tremble, from the force and pressure of it.

God, it feels so good...

I don’t know what relationship I shared with Thomas.

All I know was that it was messed up and dangerous.

But I don’t want it to stop.

I want it to go on and on, I’m in too deep, he’s in too deep, we can’t back off, we can’t avoid it, we’re an accident waiting to happen, we’re a bomb ready to detonate.

And he holds me so tight, he holds me so close, his fingers digging into my waist, my mouth finding the crook of his neck where I muffled my moans and wrap my legs around his hips.

More, more, more.

I’m close, I’m so goddamn close.

“Hold it,” He orders, sending a direct calling to my libido. “You’re not cumming, until I say so.”

A part of me doesn’t give a fuck, I only wanted the pleasure, I only wanted the burst of bliss, I only wanted the moment of freedom.

“I-I can’t-”

Tears have filled my eyes from the exertion, yet there’s another part of me, the one that wants to please, the one that wants to listen to his instructions.


“Hold it.” He hisses, cutting me off harshly.

I struggle, really hard to fight the feeling, to force my mind and body to work together, but Thomas is relentless.

And I realize its punishment.

Punishment for making him worry, punishment for going to Jonas, punishment for parading around thinking they didn’t care, he, didn’t care.

He wants to remind me I was wrong.

Skin slapping, moans echoing, fingers caressing, mouths moving, my vision stutters in a blaze of muted colors and I can’t see, I can only feel.

Then, he leans closer, his lips on my collarbone, his fingers wandering down, rubbing all the right places, effectively reducing me to nothing but a mess.

“Thomas, please, please...”

He’s pulsing deep in my core and I feel it expand, contracting my walls that continued to squeeze with need.

I feel his smile against my skin. “Come,”

The word detonates a bomb in my head, sending a flood of emotions and feelings as it washes over me, contracting all along my abdomen making me rear my head back, mouth open in a scream.

“Fuck!” Thomas digs his nails, hard into my hip bones, not prepared for how tight I’ve clenched around him before he releases. “Christ-”

I moan, loud.

He’s there, swallowing my cries, taking me with him, sealing a promise that cannot be heard, nor can it be seen, lifting my behind in his palms so I’m stretch out and he’s on top, hovering, ensuring not a drop of him escapes as my core fills with every inch of him.

It seemed to go on forever, I wouldn’t have minded.

It was bliss, it was pleasure, it was the best sex I could ever ask for.

But it was also more, it was so much more.

When I’ve stopped trembling and my eyes refocus on the hazy surroundings, I catch his blue green eyes and how they watch me.

He’s panting too, out of breath and disheveled, we’ve already gone through several rounds, yet a part of me knows he is no way near satisfied.

Thomas inches himself out of me, rubbing the top of my clit at the same time, ensuring I could feel him as he pulled out, oh so agonizingly slow.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the sensation, the soreness deliciously good.

Before the liquid could drip down my thighs, he spins me to my side, clasping my knees together so I’m bound.

He pulls my back to his bare chest and locks me there, against him, the weight of his bulk, pressing me into the mattress.

I groan at the sensation and wiggled my toes.

“Don’t you dare open your legs.” Thomas stretches his left arm out beneath my neck, curling his wrist so his mouth finds mine, a demand for me to obey.

Even though I’ve just gone through an out of body experience, the stubborn haughty side of me has begun to rear its head.

“I don’t-fuck-

He quickly slips a hand down between my legs and pulled at the flesh, the bite of his fingers a gentle warning to keep me in place.

“Keep them close or I’ll fuck you again. With the way I’m feeling I won’t stop.”

I weakly trashed, unsure if I wanted to ward off the friction or was silently looking for it.

But my eyes are closing and exhaustion has taken control of my being.

His right hand rhythmically stroke the flesh below my hip, dangerously close to the apex of my thighs.

The sensation is so tantalizing that I want to ignore my drowsiness and have him again.

“Can we do that again?” I ask, my voice scratchy.

He chuckles, breath fanning the top of my head. “I’ve worn you out,”

“This is nothing,” Shaking my head, I forced my lids open, ignoring how they wanted nothing more but to close.

“Come on Moore, I’m not made of glass.”

“If you were, I’d had broken you.” Grasping my hips, he pulls me closer, slipping his own leg between my feet, so we’re intertwine.

“Sleep, Ginger.”

“I don’t want to,” My eyes are closing, my heart is settling.

A part of me want to stay awake with him so I don’t miss anything in the last few hours of his departure.

“You’ll see me soon,” He kisses my temple, hand stroking the back of my neck, tangling through my hair in an effort to comfort me.

“I promise.”

Sleepy, so sleepy.

“Thomas...” Sleep won my overall consciousness and my legs relaxed between his, my head going slack. "I missed you..."

I had missed him.

With all my heart.

The last thing I remembered was his hand in between my legs, palming the flesh, keeping his claim right where it belonged as I drifted into blissful sleep.

“Wait for me,” He whispers so softly, that I am sure it was a dream. “No matter what happens...”

“Please, wait for me.”

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