Maybe there was a kind and loving God. Maybe. Hugo couldn’t exactly make that case for the world that he lived in or even the situation in which he currently found himself, except that, at the very least, he found himself in it with the only Basterd who was capable of keeping their fucking mouth shut.
Like himself, Millie didn’t talk very much, and, even though he knew next to nothing about her, as a result, he still liked her the most. The only thing she did now that was bothering him, as they remained hidden in a very tight space above a stairwell in an abandoned building, was slap his hand whenever he tried to light a cigarette.
She was right to do this, though, because, if they were caught before they had the chance to escape under the cover of darkness, they could kiss their asses goodbye.
Nicotine being the only vice he had in the entire world, this presented a challenge. He had them, but could not smoke. It wasn’t worth risking his life or hers, but he was growing increasingly unnerved at a staggering rate, and he needed something to occupy his mind.
He sighed quietly and turned his attention over to Millie, who paid him no mind at all. She alternated between watching the door and one of the grime-covered windows.
Things were so cramped that the only possible way to sit in anything remotely reminiscent of comfortable was for her to lean back against him, one of her legs spread across his lap. It was too practical to complain about, but she moved around every few minutes, and he wanted badly to bitch about that.
Finally, he grabbed hold of her midsection just enough to hurt and held her still, hoping that could make his point. Without hesitation, her elbow came back and cracked his jaw.
Oh. This was not good. No, not that. Hugo tried to move away, but, assuming it was a counterattack, Millie hit him again. It would only take seconds for her to realise–and there, she did. She turned to him with a look of exasperation and disbelief, gesturing with her hands to underscore.
She was the one who hit him, and it wasn’t his fault that they had to be so close to each other. It was just a physical reaction and not within his control, why should he be ashamed? Why should she get to feel disgust for him for something he couldn’t even help?
Although…he really wouldn’t mind another knock in the face.
How did one ask for such a thing? There was no possible way he could just start attacking her so that she would fight back and knock him around, she’d think he was trying to force himself on her. That wouldn’t do, and he would hate himself for giving her that impression.
She had already turned away, appalled with him, but–oh, okay, that he liked. The deep expansion of his lungs and how hard he was getting matched the thoughts that raced through his mind.
Fuck yes, he thought, be disgusted. Hate me. Find me appalling. Hit me again.
He couldn’t let her think she was in any way in danger, well, other than being in hiding, but this was past simply ignoring the problem away, and now he wanted her so badly, it literally hurt. Hugo tapped on her shoulder to get her attention.
Millie held a finger up to her lips, indicating for him to stay quiet, and turned away again. With an annoyed, silent grunt, Hugo tapped her shoulder again. She narrowed her eyes at him.
Hugo reached for her hand, pulled it into a fist, and kissed her knuckles. Knowing he had her attention, he mimed the rest, pulling her fist back and smacking himself with it. Millie rolled her eyes at him, so he did it again. Then she pulled her hand back and slapped him so hard, his hands automatically went to his zipper.
Now her jaw dropped and she punched him again, and Hugo held his hands up, pressed together, in a silent plea.
He tried to communicate with his eyes, but that was hard to do, when he didn’t even know how to communicate with words.
Even by himself, this would likely rank as the best sex he’d ever had, and, although he was aware of how inappropriate and unacceptable it was, that just made it worse. The thought of being unacceptable to Millie was making him throb.
After several long seconds had passed, Millie just looked at him with her lip curled, shaking her head, and made another motion for him to be quiet. She hit him again, then, and, with that tacit approval, Hugo pulled himself out with a relieved sigh and wrapped his hand around his cock.
God, if looks could kill. Words would be better, hearing her voice, hearing her tell him that he was abhorrent, despicable, all those things…
She put him through the paces for a while, even choking him a bit at some points. He loved every second, every nerve she lit in his body, and, maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to look her in the eye again, but it was worth it. He kept silent, knowing that if he didn’t, she would probably quit altogether.
She did anyway, though. She was sitting on his knees and grew still suddenly, just staring him right in the eye, still not ever looking down. Without warning, Millie leaned into him and kissed him so hard their teeth clacked together. Her grip on him was tight, and he returned it with such fucking fervor, he wasn’t sure if this was killing him or not.
He would die a happy man, though, if it were. Even if it was almost overwhelmingly intoxicating to feel like she was repulsed by him, feeling that she even maybe wanted him, too, was almost overstimulating. He tried begging her to hate and want him at the same time. He tried with his eyes, with his hands, with the movements of his body. It quickly shifted, though, to a simple silent plea to want him. Him, Hugo Stiglitz, the undesirable, the monster, the wretch.
Millie grabbed his hands and placed them on her belt. His fingers worked numbly to pry it open, to unbutton buttons and unzip zippers.
Millie was holding him, although she may not have seen it that way, when he guided himself inside her body. He bit into his own fist and used the other to squeeze her thigh so hard that it would bruise.
She rolled her hips like it was nothing. Hugo held her steady, but that was it. He wasn’t fucking her, it was the other way around, and he was breathless, mad for it.
Millie was bouncing in his lap, breathing just a bit too hard, gasping quietly. She mouthed his name, his surname, a few times, but made no other sounds.
The enchantment of the look of pleasure on her face was more than enough for him. He circled her nipples lightly with his fingertips and traced down a body that was just as skin hungry, just as touch starved as his own.
She bit him when she came, bit him on the shoulder, and he lost it.
Colors flashed before his eyes, he was cumming so hard, and he could only barely regret not having the forethought to pull out first.Somewhere in the more primal part of his brain, he loved doing it, loved marking her as his own.
stormborns
titsay
vaporwave
