Page 152 of Degradation
Another laugh escapes me. She doesn’t sound scared right now, she sounds haughty, petulant even. Like this is a scene we’re playing out. Her pretending she doesn’t want it and me then pretending to force her to submit.
I smirk, moving my other hand, pressing my other thumb in beside it’s brother.
Only, she reacts immediately, bucking her head, trying to throw me off. I land one good slap to her arse and she’s turning, hissing, slamming a fist into my face before she presses something right up against my ribcage.
It’s a knife. A sharp one.
Fuck knows where she got it from. Fuck knows where she found it. She must have snuck it under the pillows while I was gone.
“Smart girl.” I murmur, feeling as it nicks my skin.
She swallows hard, clenching her jaw, jutting her chin out in defiance as she faces me.
“We’ve been here before.” I say. “Remember how it ended last time?”
Her nostrils flare, she pushes just that little bit harder and I narrow my eyes as I feel my blood start to trickle.
“Maybe this time you’ll be the one bleeding out.” She spits, with all that hate, all that venom, all that delicious rage I’ve been yearning for.
I slam my lips into hers, groaning as that blade slips and cuts me deeper. It’s not enough to do any real damage but the hit of pain adds an extra delight to all this.
She tries to fight me, she jerks her body more before she gives in and kisses me back, like she’s forgotten I’m technically her enemy. I drop my hand to her breast, fondling her nipple, circling it and she arches her back as if she needs more.
“You’re a little slut for me.” I murmur against her lips. “You pretend you’re not. You pretend you don’t want it, but I can see it in your face, I can feel it in the way your body leans into my touch.”
“Fuck you.” She snarls, clenching her fist, trying to slice me up more.
I laugh grabbing hold of her hand, forcing her to fling the thing, and it goes flying, landing upright in the floorboard a good three metres away.
“Nothing to protect you now, Paitlyn.” I state. “Nothing to stop me taking that arse either.”
I slam her over, yanking her hips up and the movement is so quick she barely has time to register it. She tries to crawl away but a good hard slap to her arse makes her stop.
“Stay still.” I order, grabbing the bottle, smearing it over that puckered little hole. “Your husband’s cock might have been so shrivelled up he couldn’t do any damage, but I’d hate to really fuck up your insides.”
“You’re a bastard.” She replies. “A bastard.”
I don’t say anything back, I’m too focused on the task at hand, on prepping her adequately enough that I won’t split her in half.
She whimpers as I force a finger inside her. Her arse is tight and muscles clench around me. “Relax.” I tell her. She rewards me with another mouthful of cuss words.
I work my digit in and out, slowly building her up. I swear her hips are moving, I swear my little whore is starting to enjoy this.
I smother a good amount of lube on my cock. The barbs may be gone but that doesn’t mean I won’t still tear her up if I’m not careful.
As I place the tip of myself against her entrance her breathing becomes erratic. I can see the way her body is heaving, the way she’s preparing herself for this pain.
“Paitlyn…”
“Just fucking do it.” She spits. “Stop torturing me and get it over with.”
Torturing her? Oh sweetheart, if I was torturing you, you’d know about it.
I slide my cock in, shutting my eyes, delighting in how truly incredible she feels. I may have found my new favourite part of her; I may have found my nirvana.
She doesn’t cry out, doesn’t do anything but let me have this moment.
And it feels so fucking good.
