Page 166 of Under the Bed

“Such a dirty slut.” I slide my fingers up to her eyes, closing them. She shrieks into the cloth, rocking her hips into me. “Such a pretty, fucked-up girl. Such a pure one. Life has hurt you, but you haven’t given up on us. You’ve waited for me to destroy you. Hoped I’d break you and put you back together. Beautiful, Shi. So beautiful.”

“Hmm.” She bobs her head as much as I allow. The movement causes my hand to slide into her hair.

“Good girl.” The roots of her hair are now painted, too. Ruined. Demolished. Gorgeous.

I’m baptizing her into the fucked-up religion that is my life.

Her new reality.

“There’s more. I’m not finished with your mask.” The second tube I bought is out of my pocket. I pop the cap with my thumb, squirting black paint on both her closed eyes. Throwing it to who-the-fuck-cares once I’m finished.

“Needy whore. Begging for cock.” I drag my fingers over her eyes, painting a black X shape on each of them. “My whore. Let me look at you. Open your eyes.”

She flutters them open. Stares at me.

Her blue eyes are dazed. Wanting. Desire bleeds from them.

I’m suffocated by it. My dick aches for it.

I have to touch her in order to wipe the remaining paint on her clothes. I need my fingers clean so I can do—yes,fuck—this. Shoving my fingers in her cunt is all I’ve ever wanted.

She’s dripping on me, clenching, riding my hand. Moaning when I curl my fingers inside her.

A flick of my thumb on her swollen clit, and Shiloh gives in to me. Her orgasm reverberates through her body. Wrecks it. She’s shivering hard, nostrils flaring. She needs air faster than she can get it.

And I smile.

Every night I spent at Berkshire. Every session where shrinks tried to pick my brain apart. Every disgusted look someone aimed at me. Every time Dick stole my things.

Every time I had to jerk off into the drain instead of filling her with cum.

Worth. It.

“On your knees.” I’m not asking. I’m demanding, shoving her to the floor by her shoulder.

Her knees hit the tiles, andyes. I ruined another part of my princess. Her expensive clothes are torn and in disarray. Her face is a mess. Hair disheveled from being pushed against the wall.

“Poor little rich girl. Poor little princess. That role never suited you.” I tilt my head, ripping the gag out of her mouth. “Has it?”

“Never asked for it,” she growls.

I have one hand in her hair, silky and smooth, and mine. The other hand is on the button of my jeans.

I pause. “Take me out. Put those lips around my cock. Paint it fucking white.”

“Yes.” She isn’t defeated or sad anymore. She’s eager, pushing my jeans and boxers down.

Her small hand is hot around my length, and I can’t help it. I thrust into her. Slam one hand on the wall and rock my hips into her fist.

She’s taking what only I could give her.

Happiness. True happiness. The kind that her heart desires, not some bullshit that society told her she should feel.

One that can’t be bought. That can’t be forced onto someone.

She knows I’ll always give it to her.

She can see it coming, the pain and torment I’m about to inflict on her.

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