Page 140 of Reckoning

For a second I can convince myself that that’s it. That he’s had his fun and we’re done here. Only that’s not Koen, is it? He forces something new into me, something that feels equally as strange.

He lights a cigarette, leans down over my body and I swear to god he’s going to burn me, just the way Otto did.

“No,” I cry.

But I don’t feel that pain. I don’t feel that heat. When he sits back up he’s grinning.

What the… my mind registers the pain, the momentary feeling of what is unmistakably hot wax. He shoved a candle in me? What the fuck?

He moves back around to my face, props me up on my elbows and holds a shot gun like it’s some sort of gift. It’s barrel is long but obviously missing half.

“Your pussy seemed to welcome this just now.” He states and I gasp.

He fucking fucked me with a sawn-off shotgun? What kind of psycho would even think to do that?

He meets my gaze and then says, “Lick it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve got until the candle burns out to get it all clean.”

I stare up at him, seeing the serious look in his eyes. He’s not joking. He’s not fucking around.

If I disobey, if I turn him down, what else will he do to punish me?

“Why?” I ask the question more out of habit than because I want an answer.

His lips curl, he drags the metal across my lips and I can feel my juices, I can taste myself on it.

“This weapon is all that stands between you and whoever is trying to kill you. The least you can do is show your gratitude.”

Gratitude? He wants gratitude?

I shift, feeling that candle move. If I relax my inner muscles too much will it slip out and set fire to the bed? To be honest, I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that. I extend my tongue, glaring up at Koen as I do and slowly take one lick.

He doesn’t react. He just stays there, kneeling, holding the Berretta perfectly still. And bit by bit I run my tongue along the metal, tasting myself as I lick it clean.

Every few seconds a drop of wax hits my skin and I wince.

It’s so hard to do it, to move my mouth without moving my lower half.

Once the outside is practically spotless Koen turns the barrel, pointing it at my face and he taps my mouth.

No. Not a fucking chance.

“Open up, princess.”

I shake my head, only that rocking motion makes my whole body move and I drip even more wax on myself.

I hiss at the burn and the bastard glances down and laughs before his face turns deadly.

“Open wide or I will force this between your lips.”

He’s not joking. I can see it in his face. I part my lips, shouting every curse word I know in my head.

“Now, imagine it’s my cock.” He taunts. “You’ve enjoyed sucking that off enough times.”

I hate that I do it. I hate that in some perverse way this is turning me on, but I shut my eyes and suck it.

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