Page 6 of Save Me
“Yes,” I pant. “Fuck, yes. Hurt me.”
He pulls out of me and flips me over again to loom over me. He reaches for his belt and pulls it out of his pants, loop by loop before he draws it together and whips my breasts hard enough for me to yelp. Then he brings the hard leather down on my pussy, making me shriek and scoot back.
“Stay,” he growls and whips my pussy again.
“Fuck,” I whimper. “Thayer.”
“Do you still want me?”
“Yes.”
“Dammit, Vogue!” he roars and then his knife is pressed to my throat, the cold steel digging into my skin. “Now?”
“I need you, you fucker. Why are you doing this?” Tears prick my eyes, but even then, I don’t push him away. The numbness has gone, the alcohol has been burned away with driving lust.
He drags the blade down my throat, the tip slicing into my skin before he trails it down between my breasts. “Watch what I’m doing to you, Vogue.”
His voice is cold, and it terrifies me. I duck my head to see what he is going to do with his knife. He carves into me, shallow cuts but enough to make me cry out.
“You belong to me,” he whispers. “My initials are etched into your skin, and you can never escape me. Do you still want me, Vogue?”
“Yes,” I sob. “I want you.”
He doesn’t say anything but trails the knife down my body before he flips it over in his hands and shoves the handle intomy pussy. He fucks me with the knife as I weep openly, but it does nothing to squash the undying need for him. He has done something to me that has consumed my soul. I want to possess him completely.
“Please,” I beg. “Please.”
“What do you want, Vogue?”
“You, please.”
“Say my name, baby girl.”
“Thayer. I need you, Thayer.”
“Better,” he says and pulls the knife out of my pussy, discarding it on the bed next to my head before he drives his cock into me again. He is enormous and like steel. I clutch him desperately.
“Squeeze my cock with your cunt, baby girl. I need to feel that. Do it now, or I walk.”
“Thayer, wait!” I scream in panic, clinging to him, never wanting him to leave me. I wrap my legs around him and roll us over. He lets me, his hands gripping my waist as I ride him, working my hips like I’ve never had to before, just to please him, to keep him inside me.
“Fuck,” he growls as I feel the first clench of my walls around him. “Fuck. Vogue!”
He cries out my name, and I feel like a fucking goddess. I ride him so hard the bed bounces, and I feel like his cock is going to snap, but I keep going. My muscles are aching, screaming for release, but I fuck him harder, wilder, soaking him.
“Come again, Vogue. Don’t disappoint me,” he demands.
His hands come up to my breasts, squeezing painfully hard on my nipples. I fling my head back, my mouth open in a scream that says his name over and over as I rotate my hips, rising up and slamming back down on his cock.
“I don’t feel your cunt coming all over my cock, Vogue,” he says. “Don’t you want me?”
“Fucking prick!” I scream at the emotional blackmail that is so fucking hot right now I can’t see straight.
My hands go to my clit, eager to please but he bats them away, gripping my wrists tightly as I fuck him harder, faster.
“Yes,” he groans when he feels my climax hit me, my nipples peaking painfully as it crashes into me, my blood roaring like lava from the eruption of the orgasm. “Fuck, yes, baby girl. That’s it. Claim my cock as yours. No one else will ever have me. Is that what you want?”
“Yes!” I scream. “You are mine!” I yank my hands free from his grip and rake my nails down his chest, marking his pale skin.
