Glances generate panic and sweet agony the second I spot that glinting knife, and I wonder if she’s going to cut me like she’s cutting him.
The fear alone makes me whimper.
“Please …” I beg.
My cock throbs with need, still on that edge, unable to finish.
My hands reach for her body, desperate to get closer, desperate for that danger, no matter how bad a choice it is.
“Donottouch me,” she growls. “You haven’t earned the right.”
My fingers immediately retract, and I groan in frustration. “Please …”
“I told you men you needed to learn a lesson,” she says. “You messed with the wrong bitch.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I mutter.
She throws me a maddening glance, dangling the bloodied knife over her shoulder. “Show me how sorry. Keep fucking the giant.”
I gulp. “Yes, ma’am.”
Even her smile could kill. “Good boy.”
My entire body zings from her approval, and I bounce against the dildo even faster, harder, deeper.
I need it. I need her to be happy. I needher.
My greed is immeasurable while she gyrates, and I imagine it’s me she’s riding. I fuck the dildo so hard I begin to moan out loud, and the cum jets out on top of my belly.
My head tilts back to the floor, but her giggle makes me look up.
“No one told you you were allowed to stop,” she says, squeezing my shaft.
I yelp as it stays hard for her. It always does for her, even when she’s not touching me, but especially when she touches me …fuck.
“Go on, fuck that thing until you come again,” she muses.
“Please …” I beg.
“Please, what?” she says.
“Please, fuck me, please. I want you. I’m begging you.”
I’m pathetic.
I don’t care.
I’m pathetic for her because she terrifies me.
Fear turns me on.
But when she turns her back on me … that’s what I fear the most.
I’ve been pulled into her world, and for better or worse, I don’t want it to stop.
Not now, not ever.
She rubs my shaft, and I whimper on the floor, gliding from side to side to slip the dildo in just as she instructed. It feels so full and so delicious, but I can barely take another go.
