"You're a fucking lunatic," I spit.
That only makes him smile wider. "You knew that before you agreed to sell your soul to me, princess."
He kisses me. No. He devours me, biting my lip so hard I taste blood. I try to bite back, but he's ready for it, wrapping one hand around my throat to pin me. His tongue forces my mouth open, and I can't help but moan in response, helpless and furious and so damn turned on I want to crawl out of my skin.
He breaks the kiss, panting. "You hate me so much, don't you?"
"Yes," I snarl, though it comes out shaky.
He lets go of my throat, only to grab my wrists and pin them above my head. With his free hand, he yanks his tie loose and loops it around my wrists, cinching them tight.
I struggle, but it's useless. He's got me precisely where he wants me…helpless and at his mercy.
I glare at him anyway, defiant. If he wants me to submit, he's going to have to try harder. I'll never break for him. "Go to hell."
He smirks, as if that's exactly what he expected me to say. In a single motion, he drops to his knees and rips my skirt down my legs. The fabric tangles at my ankles, trapping me.
"Let me go!" I scream at him, but he just grabs the crotch of my panties and tears them off.
"You fucking savage!" I yell when my core clenches in response.
He stands, balling my panties up, and then shoves them in my mouth. The taste is humiliating, but what's worse is how thoroughly drenched they are. He knows it, too.
He watches my face, drinking in my shame. "I think I like you gagged and silent," he murmurs.
I glare at him, but it doesn't faze him. I'm not sure anything I say or do truly bothers him.
He presses me harder against the door, his hand sliding between my legs. I want to clamp them shut, but he's already got one knee between them, forcing them open. I'm helpless, arms bound, mouth full, and legs spread.
Nothing has ever felt better, and I hate it so much.
He strokes me, two fingers running the length of my slit.
I'm so wet it's obscene. But even now, I want to resist. I glare at him, hating myself for what's happening to my body. Hating that I don't hate it. Hating that he knows it.
He circles my clit with his thumb, his eyes locked on my face. A bolt of ecstasy slides through me, and I buck involuntarily.
The movement makes him laugh.
"Still think you're in control, princess?" he breathes. "You aren't. I could do this all fucking day."
I scream behind the gag, trying to curse him, trying to say his name. All that comes out is an incoherent, indignant squawk.
He plunges two fingers inside me, rough and relentless. I thrash, but he pins my hips with his free hand, immobilizing me like it's nothing. He fucks me with his fingers, every stroke relentless, his thumb never leaving my clit.
I feel the orgasm barreling toward me, overwhelmingly massive after days of being left on the edge, but I fight it, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
Somehow, he knows I'm fighting it. He leans in, his lips at my ear. "Fucking come for me, Brielle. Or I swear to God, I'll make it worse."
I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes.
He adds a third finger, stretching me. The pain blurs into pleasure, blinding and total. I try like hell to hold back, to resist giving even an inch, but I can't.I fucking can't.
My body betrays me, my hips rolling, my pussy clenching desperately around his fingers. I come so hard I nearly black out, screaming around my panties.
He keeps going, dragging out the pleasure until I'm sobbing into the ruined lace in my mouth.
When he finally pulls his hand away, he licks my taste from his fingers, his eyes locked with mine.
