Page 182 of Satan's Spawn
By the idea, or by me.
I can’t tell through my mania.
Felix looks as though he’d rather choose death over doing the very thing he forced me to do to him a short while ago.
“Say it again.” Crayton demands, and this time there’s arousal heating his eyes instead of rage.
“I want you to force Felix to suck your cock like he made me.”
Felix’s head is shaking eagerly, which makes me love the idea even more.
Now, I don’t know if the rumors are true about Crayton having a history of messing around with guys, but if this moment, and the piqued interest on his face is any indicator, I’d have to go with yes.
“You really are a twisted little one, aren’t you Rebecca?” That wicked grin is aimed right for me.
I fucking guess so, Crayton.
Crayton holds the knife firmly to Felix’s neck as he unbuckles his belt,with one hand again damn it, and fuck I hate how much that turns me on.
In fact, this whole situation is becoming an astronomical turn on, sans what happened with Felix earlier.
The debauched looks Crayton’s giving me.
The way he moves.
How he’s standing over Felix like a God about to administer his judgment.
Crayton has managed to make me feel not only in control of this situation, but in control of my body again.
Something Felix so ruthlessly stole from me.
I wonder if that’s what the asshole is thinking as he begs me for mercy, not to force him to suck another man’s dick.
Me and Crayton ignore him, lost in our own world once again tonight, but this time I’ll make sure he stays put.
“I can lie and tell you I don’t need a little help.” His eyes dart to the zipper on his pants. “But I’m turning over a new leaf with that honest thing.”
Those tingles are back, wreaking havoc on my body, but now they’re so intense I have to squeeze my legs together.
I want Crayton to do every dirty thing to me and I won’t even try to deny it. Maybe it’s the drugs, maybe it’s me.
It’s definitely Crayton.
“Tell me what you need from me.”
His smirk is contagious as he shifts his body, dragging Felix along the way so his back is to me. But not completely, because as always, Crayton knows exactly what I like.
And what I like is watching.
He peers down at Felix, who’s got his fingers intertwined, praying.
Crayton must be thinking the same thing as I am because his lip curls, gaze sliding to me.
“You think your God is listening, Rebecca? Should he be merciful?”
I peruse Felix’s pathetic form, so weak and fragile compared to earlier as he took advantage of me. How quickly the tables turn when he’s going up against a man twice his size.
Where was his mercy when I begged him to stop?
