I’ve spilled so much blood that my hands are permanently sullied by it, but this feels so much more wrong than any life I’ve cut short.
Taking away her choices feels fucked.
But logically, she has no choice.
She’s fucking mine.
I resolve to the notion and sink deeper, my hands digging into the pillow on either side of her head for leverage.
“Oh, fuck you feel good.”
She’s the closest to waking she’s ever been, but I know she’s had enough of my special tea to remain unaware even if her damning eyes open.
She won’t remember anything.
Her walls grip me, fluttering around me as I fuck her slow and deep.
Savoring her was never how I thought I’d fuck her for the first time. I thought I’d drive into her, shatter her will and her boundaries. Listen to her scream at me to stop.
But hearing her moan, the closer she comes to climax, does something to me.
“You’re fucking poison. I was right,” I grit, relishing how she grips me.
So tight.
So fucking tight.
She comes with a surprised, drawn-out moan, her walls convulsing around me as I fight to starve off my own orgasm.
It’s too soon.
Pulling out at the very last second, I jack myself over her pussy, coming in spurts that have me seeing stars. “You’re perfect.”
Rubbing the head of my still throbbing length through her folds, I hiss at the sensitivity. “Everything’s different now, poison. Everything.”
Greer is shaking as I lean over her shoulder and cut the feed. “The next day, I watched you in the shower. How you tested your sore pussy with your fingers, wondering what happened. Did you know it was me? Did you know I stretched and fucked you the night before?”
She wipes a tear away and looks over at me.
Her silence angers me. Leaning forward, I bite her pouty lower lip, sinking my teeth into it as she screams, her hands finding my throat and pushing with all her might.
“You’ve been mine since the night you tried to kill me.”
Blood trickles down her chin from her lip, and I grin at a job well done.
A shiver worms through my spine as I thumb through it. Watching her bleed might become a new obsession if I’m not careful.
“What do you intend to do with me?” she asks, finally breaking her silence.
I tip her chin back, the tip of my thumb turning red when another drop of blood oozes from her lip. “Keep you all to myself.”
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“I’m never going to be yours.”
“You already are. Weren’t you watching? Didn’t you hear?”
