Page 30 of Beg for Death
Not like I did with him. I licked my lips. "Not really, maybe every once in a while, when we used toys. But he said his pleasure should make me happy. If I was a real submissive I wouldn't need anything else."
Ezra whistled. "You got some nerve when you’re sporting a fucking four-inch cock." He brought the blade down against the base of my ex's cock. And in one fluid motion, he cut it off.
Blood gushed up and sprayed Ezra, soaking into his clothes. He wiggled the small flaccid thing as if it were a worm.
"Well, you and any other unfortunate soul won't ever have to be subjected to this thing again." He turned back, dropping it on Cameron's chest like it was nothing.
Watching him kill was like all those kids I grew up with, envious of who got to cheer their boyfriends on during homecoming or some sporting event. Ezra's event was killing. Thinking about it that way brought a smile to my face. With him, I got to experience so many things that I'd always dreamt of but knew would never happen.
Every single time my ex seemed to be slipping away, Ezra would drag him right back. Slapping him on the face or dosing him with smelling salts. At times, he stabbed him harder, and Cameron would just end up screaming until he went hoarse and started all over again.
I was transfixed by him. Ezra looked mesmerizing, covered in blood with a smile on his face as he relished in the screams of my ex. The fact that someone was dying in front of me barely registered. His screams and cries fell away, and all that was left was Ezra sporting a smile and, fuck, a hard-on.
I hope he fucks me.
"You look hungry." Ezra stood up, stretching. His wet jeans molded to his body leaving zero to the imagination.
"Daddy, can I suck your dick?"
He swore in Spanish under his breath. "Not happening."
It felt like a slap to the face. There was no denying that he was hard.
"You didn't take your meds. Consider this your punishment."
Tears broke free, and I stuck my bottom lip out. "But?—"
"No, come here so I can put the cuff back on you. I have to go handle everything."
I moved toward him, wanting nothing more than for him to force me on my knees and shove his pierced cock back down my throat. I wanted to feel the ridges of the piercings against my tongue.
The cuff clicked back in place. "Be good, go eat a small snack, and take your meds. Continue not to follow the rules and I will be beating your ass until you cry real tears."
How fucking messed up was it that I kind of wanted to see if he would do it? I really wanted him to hurt me, to fuck me, to ruin me, to make me beg in ways that no one ever had before.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ezra
Iwatched as Felix moved around the kitchen, cleaning it up. His hand hovered near a glass, and I growled. Immediately, he snatched his hand away. There was only one glass in the house now, and it was mine after his little breaking shit stunt. He got the blue plastic one for his meals. But sometimes I saw him going for it as if he thought it would be fun to do it all over again.
"Do I need to remind you what happens if you break anything again?"
"No, Daddy." He stiffened. "I'm being good."
That was a lie. Ever since I'd dispatched his ex-boyfriend, Felix had been driving me up a wall. I gave him his meds, and he pushed them around the nightstand until I ordered him to take them. Breakfast? He ate either so glacially slow I had to sit with him forever, or he begged me to feed him because he couldn't hold the fork. There was no fucking reason he couldn't hold the fork! And I still fed him. The other night, he stubbornly refused to come when I called him. Not outright, but he pretended that he couldn't hear me for a while until I stepped toward him andhe squeaked. The little shit was pressing every goddamn button that I had. I wanted to strangle him.
But that would just give him what he wanted.
"Boy, what are you doing now?" I asked.
"Putting away the dishes."
Wrong. He was putting them away wrong. Felix knew exactly where everything was supposed to go and he was choosing to be a little shit about it. I finally had enough. Shoving myself to my feet, I stalked over to the front door and wrenched it open. Felix made a noise like a wounded animal when I walked through it. I ignored him. In the back of my car, I pulled out the bag I'd been meaning to bring inside, but hadn't been able to. I was trying to keep him at arm's length. To put some distance between us. I knew, though, that if I didn't put a stop to his bullshit I was going to have a never-ending headache from his bullshit.
I stalked back into the house and Felix was staring at the door like he would never see me again. He brightened right up, though, when he registered that I was back. I watched him turn and go back to doing his chores. God, it was way too damn easy to make the boy happy. A little nod of approval here, a kind word there, and he was putty. Seriously, he was a puppet that needed strings. One that begged for them. How no one had seen it until now was beyond me. They were stupid, though. I would take every cracked bit of him and eat the pieces.
