Page 50 of Make Me A Sinner
But then I think of something that might actually hurt him, maybe even more than a weapon ever could. “I hope you know that if you are going through with this, it'syounot getting sex ever again,” I say, hoping it lands as hard as intended.
“Actually, it’s only for a week... maybe two,” he says, that smugI know betterlook in his eyes. “Depends on how it heals. Plus, we can improvise.”
“You didn’t seem to understand what I was saying,” I mutter, my voice low. “You’re not touching me after this,” I threaten again. Maybe that’ll get some sense into him.
“Not touching me after this?” he scoffs. “The same way you didn’t ride me less than an hour ago? Or is it the same way youhaven’t touched yourself while I watched?” The bastard preens on having control of me. Well, if he thinks his magic cock can put a spell on me, he’s got another thing coming.“Now, stop fighting this. Sit on the couch, and open those pretty legs for me,” he gestures, as if I’m a dumb kid who can’t follow simple instructions. The problem is I don’t want to follow them.
But that doesn’t matter—he hauls me by the hand to the couch, plants me on the edge, and stares down my pussy like it’s some prize.Psycho.
“Don’t move,” he warns, disappearing into the bathroom. A few seconds later, he returns, with disinfectant, some cotton, and...is that some kind of needle?
I instantly panic at the sight, not because I’m afraid of pain or needles in general. But a needle going in there? Yeah, I’m afraid of that.
Let me correct that—I’m fucking, terrified.
“You’re not putting that through me,” I utter, trying to get up from the couch.
“I promise it won’t hurt more than a regular piercing. A quick sting, then done.”
“If you know what you’re doing, which you obviously don’t.” I counter.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. Trust me, I’d never hurt you.”
“You’re planning to do it right now,” I bite back.
“Only to bring you pleasure. Don’t fight me on this. You know you won’t win.”
“I hope you know we’ll be back straight to ground zero if you go through with this.”
“There’s no going back after tonight—and you know it. So stop fighting it and give me what’s already mine.”He reaches for one of my ankles, and I instinctively fight it. I actually want to kick him in the head for what he’s about to do to me. But he catches me before I turn full karate on him, pinning my foot tothe couch. “Behave, and I’ll be gentle, I promise. But if you don’t behave…”
“What? You’ll torture me to death?” I mock, defiance burning in my gaze.
“No. I’ll just get you another piercing. See how many you can take. How many places can I mark as mine.” I shiver at his words because I know he’s not bluffing. He’s just waiting for an excuse to cover me in his marks.
My resistance eases, and I don’t fight him as his hands trail up my legs until they reach my thighs, pushing my legs open. Now I’m really starting to panic.
My head falls back. I don’t want to watch this. But still, I don’t fight the thought of wearing his jewelry—not even a little. For some reason, I found that kind of commitment intriguing.
But then I feel something cold against my folds, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Set seems ready for this, and before I can flinch, his hand presses me down, and his voice turns warm and reassuring. “It’s only disinfectant. I need to clean the area first. Breathe. It’s all in your head. It won’t hurt nearly as bad as you think .”
I really want to believe him, but I have an internal defense system that can’t stand the thought of that needle coming near me. His fingers gently glide across my sensitive skin, and suddenly, I’m melting. Just like that, every other thought vanishes—along with any last scrap of resistance.
I close my eyes again, hoping to get through this fast and pretty much pain-free. But I feel him shift on the couch, and I feel forced to look at what he’s doing. He’s opening the damn box, the piece of jewelry gleaming under the chandelier’s light. “It will look amazing.” He chants as if he’s getting ready to create a work of art. When all I can feel is panic. And the more I think about it, the more I stiffen. “Relax,” he says, unwrapping the sterile needle like this is some damn spa treatment.
“How the fuck am I supposed to relax while you’re about to stab me with that?” I could rip his head off just watching him approach me with that.
“Don’t curse. I need to stay focused,” he grunts, showing for the first time a sign of frustration.
Okay, I don’t want him tense while he’s doing this. But I can’t help myself either, especially as I feel his hand brushing against my pussy again, preparing to put in the piercing.
I can’t tell if I’m breathing too fast or not at all, but the curses pour out of me anyway as he’s putting pressure against my skin, assessing the spot he needs to pierce. Then comes the sting—barely there at first, then almost vicious the very next second. “Oh, just wait ‘til I pierce your cock. See how that fucking feels.”
“Well, I’m already pierced. But if you want to take another shot at it, be my guest,” he answers, maddeningly relaxed as I feel another sting. Strangely, it doesn’t hurt as bad as I expected. Which means he probably hasn’t really started yet.
Then it hits—a sharp, stabbing pain like I stepped on a needle. “Oh, I could kill you right now,” I growl through clenched teeth as I start threatening him again. But before I go on, I see him putting the needle away, then he leans over me to kiss me. There’s a rush of pain flaring through me, but he’s doing a pretty damn good job of stealing it away, especially since one of his hands slipped inside my robe and is now toying with my breasts.
Every time his tongue pulses against mine, the pain fades a little more. “So, so sexy when you’re mad,” he whispers, dark and smug, just waiting for me to take my best shot while I try to process what the hell just happened.
