What the fuck?
He flips the knife around again, the shining steel glinting in the fading light beneath my blood. My head falls back and my hips lift on their own accord as he brings the handle back to my pussy. This time rubbing tantalizing and teasing circles around my clit. It feels so good. Too good. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. I shouldn’t be wet and ready for this monster to use me as he pleases. And yet, I can’t deny what my subconscious and body seem to be in agreement about—as fucked up as this is, as he is—I’m the same level of fucked up. The chaos and destruction he’s offering seem to be exactly what I crave.
“You like that, don’t you? You dirty little slut. Gonna get off on a knife covered in your own blood?” His words are filthy and degrading, and for some reason I can’t explain, they send me careening toward a cliff I’m not sure I’m ready to jump off of. Thick fingers tangle into my hair, snapping my head forward and demanding my eyes. I stare into the mask of the Devil as he drives me closer and closer to the edge. “You crave this darkness just as much as I do. You’ve been pretending to be prim and proper and fucking uptight for too long, Ali. Let go, let me see just how fucked up you really are, Princess.”
My climax is drawing nearer and nearer with each soft swipe of the hard plastic against my throbbing core. And just as I’m about to cum, right as my body begins to crest, he pulls away.
“You want to come? Then you’ll say you’re mine,” he snarks down at me as I gape at him with my mouth opening and closing. My fury is palpable as I war within myself. On the one hand, I want to grab the knife and give him a taste of his own medicine. On the other hand, I really want the orgasm that was just beyond my reach a moment ago.
Again, he falls between my thighs. This time the blade lands in the opposite leg. Pain blooms anew and somewhere in the fucked up wiring of my nervous system, the pain starts to feel good—reallygood. Like a lightness I’ve never known. A release. Three swift cuts tear through my tender flesh, and each one results in a moan and mewl between panting breaths.
“Admit it. You like the pain. You crave the pain.” This time it’s his fingers inside me, curling against my pulsing pussy walls, pumping in and out and demanding my pleasure. “Say. You’re. Mine.” He punctuates each word with a swift thrust of his digits inside of me.
At this point, I’d give anything, say anything, for the release. My body is strung so tight, and yet, my head feels so high, as if I’ve completely left my own head. For the first time in a long time, I’m free of the anxiety, the pressure, the worry. I’m just here, in the moment, with him.
And I never want it to end.
“I’m yours,” I manage to choke out between pants as I chase the release I’ve become nearly desperate to be granted.
His fingers recede from inside me and I sag as my body caves from being denied yet again. His thick digits shove their way into my mouth, forcing me to taste the combination of my blood and desire dripping from his hands.
“Good girl,” he praises as his pointer and middle finger slideseductively across the expanse of my taste buds. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it, Princess?”
I shake my head. As much as the rational, strong, independent woman inside of me absolutely hates to admit it—I do want to be his good girl. I really want to be his good girl. Something about this Devilish monster has my brain short circuiting and my body craving things I never thought I’d want.
“One final step,” he warns as he removes his fingers from my mouth and places his hand around my throat, holding me in place while his right hand brings the blade back down on my thigh.
The pain isn’t as sharp now. It’s almost a welcome warmth as he slices the last few cuts into my flesh. With his hand that’s wrapped around my throat, he guides my face down to look at the marks he’s made on me. ‘M’ and ‘I’ are carved into one thigh, right at the apex. ‘N’ and ‘E’ are carved into the other leg, right on the other side of my pussy. He’s branded me as his—literally. And I let him, no, I encouraged him. I should hate him, detest him, want to turn the blade around on him; and yet, all I really want is for him to make me his in another way. My hips lift up off the wooden surface, an invitation. He stares down at my bloodied wet pussy and growls.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?” His voice is like broken glass—rough and raw, and I can tell he’s barely hanging on.
“Please,” I whine as I run my hands up and down the network of dark ink on the flesh of his arm that’s still wrapped around my neck. “Garett, please. I need you.”
His head snaps to mine, his breathing heavy and harsh behind the mask.
“Say it again,” he demands as his fingers tighten around my throat, not tight enough to cut off air, but tight enough to let me know he’s not messing around.
“I need you,” I whimper as I bring my free hand down tomy aching pussy. I slip and my fingers graze against cut flesh. I suck in a sharp breath at the slight sting. I can feel the blood on my digits, but I’m too far gone to care; I bring them to my clit anyway. The first brush against the hardened nub is electric. It feels so fucking good.
“Not that,” he growls as his eyes slip down again, watching me rub my aching pussy. His hips thrust slightly and I can tell he wants me just as much as I want him. “Say my name. Myrealname.”
“Garett,” I moan as my pleasure begins to build again and my fingers dance faster against the throbbing bundle of nerves. My eyes roll back as I chase the pleasure I’ve been denied over and over again. Each denial built up my need, making this more intense than I’ve ever felt.
“Fuck, Princess.” His hand releases my throat, and I hear the sound of his belt and zipper, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. “Don’t you dare come until I’m buried deep inside you. I want to feel this pretty pussy throb around me as you yell my name. I want you to claim me as yours just as I claimed you as mine.”
His words are wild. Wild and possessive and intense. Exactly how he is. I know it’s foolish and not in any form or way the safety and stability I thought I wanted. But in this moment, I need him more than air, more than life, more than anything.
“Garett, fuck me,” I plead as I try to slow my fingers.
He doesn’t disappoint. The thick, pierced head of his cock pushes slowly at my entrance. Every time I take him is overwhelming. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the girth. It feels like he might split me open each and every time he takes me. And I love it.
“Such a pretty pussy, Princess,” he coos as he slides inside inch by inch. “My pretty pussy.” He thrusts in roughly, burying himself to the hilt. I cry out in shock and pain. “No one else will ever fuck you again.” He pulls out and thrusts in again justas roughly as I scream. “No one else will ever touch you again,” again, he pulls out then thrusts inside me with a feral desire that has me seeing stars, “no one else will ever even dare to look at you again.”
His hips piston in and out of me faster and faster, until he’s rutting into me like a wild beast. He’s a man possessed—possessd by his desire for me. The knowledge that I’ve driven him this crazy is a heady rush. “You are mine, Princess. Even when we’re nothing more than ghosts, I will haunt the afterlife, claiming your eternal soul over and over again.”
With his final declaration, I shatter. Wave after wave of ecstasy ripples through me. The orgasm is so intense that my vision goes black. My mouth falls open in a scream of pleasure.
“So fucking tight,” Garett grits out as he continues to pump in and out of me, guiding me through my release. “Your pussy is begging me to fill it up.”
