Mother I Crave Violence Gif Novels & Stories

Who did he think he was, touching my mother like that, holding her so intimately? My mother jerked her arms free, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. "Stop this!" she spat, her voice echoing through the air. "Go back to your mate, your daughter. Leave me be!" She screamed the words, her pain and longing palpable. But the man's face didn't reflect the anguish of rejection; instead, his eyes burned with a cold, calculated rage.

Boom The goddess knows how to make life easy for me, he gifted her as my mate. I smirked, walking towards my mother, crouching beside her, my face covered with satisfaction that finally I could get the blood for her. If it takes me to drill every blood from her just for my mother to be held again I will do that without battering. "Mother," I called softly, yet with a quiet force in my voice, "you will be healed soon. I swear it."

“Don’t touch me! You monsters! Where is my husband? Where is he! He took our son! I know that boy is dead! He promised me! He promised!” My throat convulses as more shrieks fill the hallway–a tangle of terror, grief, and rage. A woman’s rage. The rage of a mother. Something I haven’t yet had to feel, but I’ve seen it in my own mother’s eyes… recently, actually, when I accepted KiloKilo’s terms…

I desire clearer view so sneak further. My eyes darkens at the ongoing scinerio. They glow ox blood. My tooth grit and heavy grind themselves. My fist also morph tightly. They desire ripping apart my enemy into bloody shreds. Before me stands brother Rowan and mom. Mom is all battered, torn and blood covered. But he care less. He continually punch till she sprout numerous blood amount. Mom only smile and chuckle. She whisper few words into his ears. He growl. He angrily turn towards my mate.

she shouted trying to hit me but how can she hit me when she is too weak from the fucking? “ Manners.” I teased as the room echoes her endless moans in the background of the video. “ Your mother will not be too proud of you! You are a demon! You are an evil creature!” I gripped her neck at the mention of my mother’s. “ You…. how dare you!” I slap her so hard that she landed back at the bed. The thought of her using her dirty mouth talking about my mother made me lost my sanity. “ Don’t talk about my mother!” I snapped and grab the remote control before mercilessly implanting it inside her cunt. It wasn’t soft nor hard, it was intense and too much. I didn’t plan to have any mercy with this bi

I love the feeling of being used, of my mouth being nothing but a hole for his pleasure. Suddenly, a sharp ringtone cuts through the air. Tristan groans in frustration, his hips stilling for a split second. He doesn’t pull out, though. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand, checking the screen. I glance up; the name "Valeria" flashes on the display. My mother. He looks down at me, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. He shushes me, placing a finger over his mouth, then taps the button to answer.

I used my hold on Xavier to steady myself and move in front of him, directly facing the two bastards in the cell. "I don't just want them dead." Their chuckling stopped. "I want them tortured until their bodies give up. I want them slowly torn to shreds. I. ." Images of Mom's death came to mind, maybe more violent than it actually was. But maybe not. Maybe they were worse than what my mind was willing to comprehend for the death of the woman who raised me and loved me. "I think you should feed them their own body parts. One last meal." Their eyes widened as Xavier snaked his arm around my waist. Maybe I do understand his sense of violence.

“I’ll pluck out her fingers, she’ll bleed, but I won’t bother about cleaning, because your cum will wash away her blood.” I flounder, my chair scraping the tile, but his iron grip secures me taut. “And if you don’t?” His gaze stalks to the hounds. My bowels constrict. Mom’s face is ashen. “Then, my hounds will taste her.” “Eat shit!” I explode. Blood drizzles from his bandaged belly to my thighs. It does nothing to ease his grip. “If you touch my mother I’ll kill you.” As if psyched to him, the Canines prowl to Mom: tongue wiping teeth, cut-out tails wagging for orders, with a feral hunger in their eyes.

Usually, I walked away whenever she showcases women to me. But not today. I needed someone, anyone to vent my anger on. “You’re doing it for the fucks, right? You’re going to get what’s coming,” I pushed her away and stared hard at them. “All of you.” “Call Damien,” I said. The guard at the door left without hesitation. “If you don’t want them, just tell me. There is no need for violence,” Mother said. “This will be a lesson to anyone who claims to be my mate,”