Page 233 of Broken by my Bully
Either way, we’re still those kids. Just in adult bodies, with adult consequences.
I mimic her touches, one hand propped on the tree above her head, the knuckles of my other one gliding along the side of her neck. Her eyes flutter open, and she stares at my mask as she slowly drags her fingers down my chest.
I follow suit.
She caresses my pec, eyelids slowly lifting so she can peer into the sockets of my mask as she tweaks my nipple through the trash bag.
I don’t know which possibility is worse. That she thinks I’m a complete stranger…or that she knows who the fuck I am and she’s playing coy.
Fuck it.
Wherever my drugged-up lamb leads, I’ll follow.
She moans when I rub my knuckle over her nipple sticker.
Her teeth clench around the sucker stick as she smiles, her hand sliding down my stomach.
I mimic her, my body tensing. The lower she goes, the lower I go.
But I stop her when she tries to grab my cock, because right now, there’s nothing to grab. And she resists, so I slam her wrist into the trunk above her head.
Just like I did that day in the gardens. Just like I did under the bed.
She likes it when I trap her. Always has.
And then, in case she still wants to get handsy, I do the same with the other, trapping both her wrists in one hand, my other free to roam her body.
Down her arm, slow.
Skating over her throat and having to fight the urge to seize it. Down her torso instead, rubbing the sticker over her nipple until she’s moaning. Her trash bag rustles, chips of dried paint peeling off inside.
Her body goes liquid under my hands. I watch her expression, transfixed by the way her eyelashes flutter, her mouth opens and closes.
Down I glide my hand. To her stomach.
Between her thighs.
She gasps, her legs spreading for me when I drag my nails over her underwear.
So wet already for anyone who’ll touch her.
“Fucking slut,” I mutter.
Haven’s eyes fly open at the same time her mouth does. There’s a flash of desperation in them before she groans and bucks against my hand, her lips trembling.
It’s all too much.
Too fucking much.
She has no idea how lucky she is that the molly KOd my dick, else I’d be nailing her into this tree right now. I need something to take off the edge, something to give my body the release it’s so badly craving.
I can’t look away from her mouth. How she winces, moans, gasps.
And it’s dark out here, right? Too dark for her to make out my face.
Her eyes are closed anyway. She’s lost to the touch of my fingers as I stroke her clit and pussy through her already soaked underwear.
I turn my head, shrug off my mask, and look back at Haven, expecting her to be staring at me, ready to attack.
