Page 69 of Call It What You Want
God, this girl. She makes me insane.
Her soft, warm mouth sinks down my shaft before drawing up and swirling her tongue around the head of my cock. Fuck. But her pace is slow, languid, and I’m not a patient guy. With my fist tangled in her hair, I force her to take me harder, faster. She moans, but I don’t let up, my hips bucking against her pretty little mouth.
My balls tighten, and that familiar tingle starts at the base of my cock, signaling the beginning of the end. If I don’t let her ease up, I’m going to blow my load in that pretty mouth in seconds.
Then she does something daring. With her head bobbing, she reaches between her legs and strokes her own pussy. I yank on her hair sharply, and her mouth pops off my cock. With her head pulled back, she can’t help but look up at me.
“Ah-ah,” I say. “Daddy didn’t say you could touch yourself.”
Her eyes narrow. “It’s only fair. If you can get off, then so should?—”
I yank on her hair again, cutting her words off. “Who said anything about being fair?” I say with a smirk. “Touch your pussy again, and there will be consequences you won’t like. That’s your first and last warning.”
She wants to spit back an insult—I can see it in her eyes—but she swallows it back. Good girl. She’s learning already.
Releasing her hair, I shove her back at the same time. She looks shocked, and a little annoyed, but that’s the point. If shewon’t give in to me, then she’ll suffer. That damn stubbornness has a price, and she’ll pay it until she can’t take it anymore.
“Turn around,” I command, fisting my cock. She looks confused, hesitating too long, so I grab her arm and force her to do it. “On all fours.”
She complies, sinking down to all fours on the mattress, glancing at me from over her shoulder, no doubt wondering what I’m about to do. But I take a second to admire her beauty, the curve of her back, the swell of her hips, her pink, swollen pussy, already glistening, practicallybeggingto be fucked.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful. And I know I don’t deserve her. I know I’m the reason she’s suffering. Without me, she’d be living a normal life. But I just can’t walk away. Once was hard enough. Twice would be impossible, and I’m not even going to pretend I could.
Reaching down, I brush the seam of her cunt with the tip of my finger. She sucks in a sharp breath and drops her head, shoulders tensing. Then I push inside with one finger, two. She’s soaked, dripping, and I briefly wonder if she’s already come. No, if she had, she wouldn’t be this desperate. She’s just wet as fuck, exactly how I need her for what I have planned.
Using my fingers to spread her wetness, I rest the head of my cock against her back entrance. She jerks forward the second she feels it, but I grab her hips and hold her in place.
“Wait,” she says on a whimper.
“No.”
Impatient, I shift, pushing in slowly, just enough to breach her tight, puckered hole. She freezes, every muscle coiled tight. This isn’t very nice of me. I haven’t prepared her body for this, for my abrupt invasion. But I’m fucking desperate to be inside this girl, and this is the only option that doesn’t give her what she wants.
As I inch in deeper, she fights me, twisting her hips, trying to get away. Frustrated, I slide my hand to the nightstand, thumb finding the latch. A hidden drawer slides forward, and I palm the knife that’s tucked inside. I bury a fist in her hair and pull her head back. With the cold blade pressed to her throat, she instantly freezes.
“Should I cut you open and see if there’s a beating heart inside?” I whisper against her ear.
Her breath comes in quick, uneven bursts, and finally she shakes her head. I know she’s afraid of me. There’s always been some part of her that fears me. And honestly, deep down, I think it’s that fear that makes her feel alive.
“No?” I say, sliding it across her throat gently. The blade is sharp and leaves a shallow cut on the side of her neck. I place it on the bed next to us. “I’ll confess, I’d like to see the inside of you. I sometimes wonder what lies just beneath the skin, the hidden parts of you no one has ever touched, no one has ever claimed, untilme.”
Blood trickles down her creamy skin, and I dip my head to lap it up. She tastes decadent, like salt, copper, and cream. I suck on the wound, using my teeth to nip and bite.
She moans, and I can’t help but smile against her skin. “There’s my dirty girl.”
I pause, savoring the way her body feels, my fingers teasing her just enough to draw a shiver. She hesitates for a heartbeat—chest rising and falling—before her instincts take over. With a sudden, sharp movement, she pulls away, slipping out from under me so quickly I can’t get a hold of her.
I catch a glimpse of her ass as she scrambles to the far side of the large bed and shimmies off the edge. Her feet hit the floor, and she spins to face me, panting, eyes wide, hair tumbling around her shoulders.
With my gaze trained on her, I step to the floor and circle around the bed, stopping right in front of her. She’s cornered, literally. There’s a window behind her, but that’s it. And I know she’s not escaping, naked, from the second story.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, nostrils flared, like a doe caught in the crosshairs of a hunter’s rifle. And that fear in her eyes,fuck,it makes my cock swell even more.
I take a slow step forward. “Are you afraid of me, baby?”
Shoulders squared, chin lifted, she glares at me. “Should I be afraid?”
She’s asked me that before, like she’s testing how close she can get to the fire. The truth? She should be terrified. I’ve never cared about anyone, never pretended to. But Ava…she’s different. She’s mine. And if I have to cage her to keep her, I fucking will.
