Page 22 of Make Me A Sinner
So, as my thumb’s still pressing against her lips, I lean over her. "You want me to takefullcontrol over you?" I taunt, promising to fulfill her greatest wish—no responsibility for her actions whatsoever. No guilt. No control. Just the way she wants it.
And I've never heard a needieryesin my whole life—like she's been waiting for me to take this burden from her all along.
"Give me your hands then," I say, and she stretches her hands in front of me, her wrists already glued together, eager to become my obedient doll.
My cock twitches again, just from the sight. And since I’ve got nothing I can use for a rope around me, I pull the phone charger cord from my pocket and wrap it around her wrists, careful not to hurt her, but hard enough so she can’t escape.
She's so fucking eager to feel me inside her again, I won't waste another second before finding my rightful place.
I've never seen her so vulnerable as when she’s completely mine. But it's not enough to fully get her to trust that her mind should align with her body. I know her obedience is only momentary.
Even if my throbbing cock won’t be satisfied with coming just once tonight, I can't let her find her orgasm. She's close enough as it is, and I'm already playing with fire. So, I bury myself inside of her a few more times. But just as she starts to tighten around me, I abandon her warmth and slide my own hand over my shaft a couple of times, until I spew white hot strands of my undoing over her stomach and up to her breasts.
Every cell in my body is shaking, and I'm not even one with her yet.
I want her to realize how badly she wants me. How she’ll take anything I have to give. So I take my cum and smear it across her swollen cunt, sliding it in with filthy strokes, marking her whole body as my territory.
She is mine in every sense of the word.
I hear another moan drowning down her throat again, and I know she's terrified of how fucking much she loves it.
She lets me dirty her in any way I want. And I’m so fucking grateful to see the real her that I'll fulfill every single depraved fantasy she’s ever had—as soon as she admits to herself that she wants to be mine. My fingers slide in and out a few more times, smearing her with what’s left of me. Yet she doesn’t even realize our game’s almost over.
"You're under my control," I breathe, yanking the phone cord she let me tie her with—just to prove my point. "From this second on, only I dress you. Only I wash you. Only I touch you."
"What... no?" I hear her whimpering, realizing my fingers had stopped moving for good.
"Yes!" I confirm this isn't a game anymore. She gave me permission to gain full control over her, and she doesn’t get to take it back.
"Set!" she cries out, already knowing there’s no way around this.
"I'm the only one allowed to do any of it, until you're brave enough to claim what's yours. You don't get to touch yourself. You don’t get to finish tonight."
"Set," her voice more pleading this time, like I am her water and her mouth is the goddamn desert.
"I told you I’d punish you. But, look on the bright side, this is your dream come true." I pull a sheet over her, letting her have what I'm surewon'tbe a good night's sleep. "I won't fuck you again until you claim what's yours."
twelve
-Serena-
I wake up in the morning with Set’s hand tucked between my legs, like he’s guarding his damn property—reminding me of what happened last night. I can't even begin to list everything that’s wrong with me right now. I blame it on being scared, vulnerable and completely fucked in the head. And I'm sore everywhere. Actually, it's so bad I can't even pay attention to the headache I woke up with. The tension low in my body is unbearable. My whole core feels twisted, knotted with pressure and a kind of anguish that has no chance of finding any ease—despite the fact that I still have a hand resting between my legs.
I mentally scream just thinking about last night. The memory claws at me, sharp and painful, and I chase it away before it can twist the knife deeper in my stomach.
I haven't been myself since I found out there’s a hit out on me. Nick put me in just about every dangerous situation he could. Still, I didn't have a literal contract on my head before—at least, not one I knew of. But I can’t be sure if this is tied to Set, the break-ins, or Nick’s gambling debts. Yet, since Set’s the only onestill standing—and he's the reason Nick is dead—I think it's only fair to hold him responsible.
Then again, the fact that Nick’s dead has been lingering on my mind all day. Especially since I'm the one who killed him. I'm a killer because of Set, and now he’s brought me back to finish his twisted creation.
Funny how every one of my deepest fears collided the moment I saw Set walk back through the door last night. I shouldn't have said the things I did last night. I regret most of them, especially since he did have a point. None of the people I killed were good. They hurt me so badly that I'll never heal from the scars. And still, I keep telling myself I shouldn't be with Set because he's not a good person—but neither am I.
My only real fear is that when I’m with him, parts of me—I didn't even know existed—begin to surface. I let him do all those things to me last night. And I want more. I want him in the most vile, depraved ways imaginable. I want him to test my limits and go beyond them when we're in bed. And honestly, I don't even think I can go through with hispunishment. Because my body hurts in ways it never has before. It's not just my wrists, it's like my body'spunishingme, turning on itself because I dared to leave Set. And even if I understood why he wanted to teach me a lesson, this was a very painful one.
I only managed to fall asleep last night because I hadn't closed an eye yesterday while he was away. Maybe that's why I was so bitchy to him—not that he deserved any better. The man’s an animal. And he proved that to me by marking me, because I know that's what he was doing, like a damn alpha, tracing his property lines. I just wish I weren't so fucking turned on by wearing his marks. By belonging to him.
I try to move and break free from the phone cord, but as Set feels me moving, he pulls me onto him, and throws a heavyarm around me. "Ten more minutes," he groans, keeping me prisoner under his weight until I can hardly breathe.
Well, that's not entirely true. I'm just pissed off that I'm tied up, which gives me a reason to protest. "You're too heavy, I'm suffocating." I squirm under his arm, struggling to break free, hoping he's not serious about keeping me tied like this.
