Page 28 of Psycho

“No,” she whimpers, as the water falls down her back. Her dark hair is wet, so is her pussy she wants to insist doesn’t like my fingers fucking her. Dirty fucking liar.

I reach my free hand around her waist, and pull her up against me, my cock pressed against her ass, while I move my fingers in and out of her wet heat.

“Lean forward, hands on the wall.”

Pulling my fingers from her pussy, I spread her ass cheeks, and watch the water fall along her crack, enticing me.

“Fucking beautiful temptation. Do you know what I think, little lamb?”

Leaning my face into her neck, I bite into her flesh, as I push my fingers back inside her.

“I think you like being my pretty little whore. Don’t you?”

Her answering whine, as her pussy clenches down on my fingers, says a lot more than she likely wants to.

When I know she’s close to an orgasm, I pull my fingers from her, and ignore her annoyed glare as she spins toward me.

“You come when I decide, and not before. Get the soap and wash the blood off.”

Her soapy hands rub down her neck to her perky tits, and my eyes follow every movement, as blood falls, along with water, from her body, and down the drain. I grip my cock in my hand and squeeze, trying to relieve the pressure, as she flashes me her pissed off scowl again.

“If you’re going to get your rocks off by watching me, can I at least wash my face?”

With a nod, I allow it, because I can always come all over her face again, and probably will.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ANASTASIA

He yanks me by my hair, and practically drags me back to the room I found earlier.

Psycho is never gentle or kind that I’ve seen. Right now he seems angry, and that worries me, because I can only imagine what he’s capable of when he’s mad. He watches me like a wolf watches its prey, and the irony isn’t lost on me. I expect him to direct me to the bed, but he doesn’t.

“Get in the chair, and put your hands on the armrests.”

Psycho stares at me with a heated gaze, as I do as he said. I have no idea what’s happening, and I’m still confused when he grabs a strap from underneath the armrest, and secures my arm in place, before doing the same with my other one.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he grabs my leg and pushes it back beside my head, strapping it there, before also restraining my other leg beside my head.

“What the fuck?”

With a smirk, he drops his gaze between my legs. I’m spread wide open, and I don’t like it. I’ve never had a man look at me like this.

“Pretty boring pussy, but we’ll fix that.”

He opens a drawer on the table beside the chair, and pulls out a needle and a tube.

“What is that?”

I hate the stupid grin on his face, like my misery brings him joy.

“It’s for your piercing.”

He holds up a little piece of jewelry. A fucking knife, because, of course, he would have piercings that are tiny little knives, just like the one he has.

“I’m piercing your hood, little lamb.”

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