Page 45 of Nitro

“You won’t survive it.”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’m starting to believe it.”

“Then let me show you how much I can handle.” I reach for his zipper and yank it down. He groans as I pull his cock free from his boxers. I don’t want to waste time undressing him. I need him now, his savage, barbaric, viciously sexy self. I need him to show me what it’s like to be with a real man. Until now, I’ve only been with guys pretending to be men. Nitro’s not like that. He’s the real deal, and right now I want him to fuck me harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my entire life.

Chapter 13: Nitro

I grab her wrists because she’s clawing at my ass, trying to drag me on top of her. That’s not the way this is going down. If she wants to know what I’m really like in bed, then she’s going to have to submit to me. I want complete control over her body. That’s the only way I like to fuck.

“Stay there,” I growl, pushing her against the mattress.

I cross the bedroom, searching through the remaining piles of clothes I haven’t had time to hang up. My little bag of tricks has to be here somewhere. I hope it’s not out in the garage because I’m not leaving this room anytime soon.

The edge of the small, camo-green duffle bag peeks out from underneath one of my shirts. I grab it. “Nice.”

“What’s in the bag?”

“Toys.”

“Oh, kinky,” she teases. She has no idea how right she is.

I set it on the end of the bed and riffle through it until I find my favorite handcuffs. Sometimes I use them to lock up prisoners. Sometimes I use them to keep a hot piece of ass entertained. Girls love this shit. Right now, though, I’m using them to show Holly exactly what she’s getting into. I warned her, but no amount of talking will prepare her for the real thing.

After straddling her waist, I grab her right wrist and slap the metal cuff on it. I cinch it tight, but not too tight. I don’t want to cut off her circulation.

“Uh, Nitro. These aren’t fuzzy.”

“No. They’re not.”

I loop the handcuffs through the bars in my headboard before capturing her other wrist. I lock it into place then sit back to study her face. Her eyes are wide, and her chest is heaving with every breath. But it’s not fear that I see in her face. It’s desire. She’s turned on by this. Some girls panic right about now, but not Holly. She’s excited and ready for more.

“If you want me to unlock the cuffs or pull this out of your mouth, then just knock twice on the headboard and I’ll stop.” I fish a big, black ball gag out of the bag and dangle it from my fingers.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s for your mouth. Open up.” A sadistic smile spreads across my face. I could hold back and try to pretend I’m not reveling in her helplessness, but I am. It’s fucking hot. I love seeing my women defenseless and completely at my mercy. Holly will understand that about me once this is over.

She dutifully opens her mouth. My cock gets even harder. The sweet innocence in her gaze is my undoing. More than ever, I want to corrupt and possess her in a way no other man ever has. I doubt her spineless piece-of-shit husband ever tied her up or made her beg for his cock. That’s exactly what I’m going to do to her.

I stuff the ball into her mouth and buckle the strap behind her head. She widens her eyes and watches me like her life depends on it. It’s not her life that she needs to be worried about. She should be terrified by how much pleasure I’m going to give her. I’m going to make her come until I break her. It’s my favorite way to get off.

Since I already tore off her panties, the only thing I have to deal with is the bustier. I walk over to my cut and search through the pockets until I find my switchblade. I flick it open. The shiny metal catches the light just right, flashing in a menacing way that adds to the suspense. See, right now, Holly doesn’t know exactly how crazy I am. She’s heard my story, but she’s wondering: Is he just fucking around, or is he going to kill me?

I reach between her thighs and slide two fingers into her pussy. She whimpers but can’t speak, which is so fucking hot I start leaking precum. I stroke in and out a few times, but as soon as she starts moving against my hand, I jerk it away. She growls and arches her hips, chasing my hand as far as she can. A dark, sinister laugh fills the room. It’s mine. Just like her. She’s mine too.

With the blade angled away from her skin, I slice open the bustier. When she walked out of the dressing room, I knew the outfit wouldn’t survive twenty-four hours. There wasn’t a ghost’s chance in hell I’d let her take it off. No. From the second she put that thing on, all I could think about was cutting it off.

She shivers as I run the dull side of the blade across one nipple. I trace a line down her quivering belly toward her pussy. She presses her ass down into the mattress to escape the blade. I don’t want to completely terrify her, so I glide it across one thigh before tossing it onto the dresser. She whimpers with relief.

“You didn’t think I’d actually cut you, did you?”

She shakes her head from side to side.

“Good girl.”

She flushes and wriggles against the bed. Her need for me is clear in every feeble attempt she makes to draw me closer. I like making her wait. It’s fun to watch the play of emotions from desire to annoyance to frustration flicker across her face. She’s trying to grind that sweet cunt against the sheets, but she can’t quite make that happen. It’s entertaining to watch her try.

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