Page 69 of Promise to Break

Three fingers push inside me. It's too much. I'm full, so fucking full. I moan. "I'm about to—"

"No, you're not." He takes his hand away, and my legs follow the sensation like an addict who needs more. I almost fall to the ground, but he doesn't let me.

"Please… I need—"

"Tell me what I need to hear, and you'll come on my tongue." I shake my head. I can't tell him that. "You can refuse the real you. It's okay. We'll get there." His fingers come back inside me, but they're too slow, almost lazy. I need more. More friction, more pain, more pleasure. Just more.

"Let's count to ten. Can you do that for me, Little Girl? Let me spank your little cunt ten times, and I'll let you come." His smooth voice is like the finest drink ever created, a caress that doesn't match the darkness that dissolves in his eyes. The blue is swallowed by a black lust. The wet smack on my pussy has me surging forward, almost falling on the man on his knees.

"Count, and don't fall. Try to hold still. It feels stronger like that, and you want to endure your punishment for me, don't you?" Because, of course, he knows everything there is to know about the art of pain.

"One." My voice is raspy and tired, but I can't let him down. He needs me to endure this for him. For me.

"Such a good little girl." Another smack, this one not as harsh, but it's almost worse because my clit is begging for it to end. The tingles are everywhere, but I can't get there.

"Count!"

"Two," I get out with a groan. Two more times make me howl as I count out loud.

"Good. So good for me. You're going to come soon, and I'll swallow it all."

Smack! This one is strong as well, and as I want to say five out loud, I can't because he pushes two fingers inside my wetness. "Speak, Little One."

"F.. five…" He doesn't move his fingers as he uses his other hand to smack me again. "Six," I cry out.

"The last three will be brutal. Just count, and you will thank me later, I promise."

Smack! "Ah. Six!" Smack! Was it six? I don't know… "S…seven… Plea— Eight!"

"Good. You added one more for yourself. But you can do it. Just two more. You can take it."

My mind goes blank. The sound of the ninth smack is so loud I want to fall to my knees. I don't. The last one comes as another lighter caress covers my hurt flesh.

"Nine… Ten…" I say. His mouth is on mine in an instant as I cry out, "Killian… My killer… I need to…. I want to… Fuck me…"

"Yours, huh?" He kisses the skin on my thighs, my ass, and the small of my back. "Come on my lips, Little Girl."

When I think I can't, that I'll stay just like this for eternity in this blissful yet unsatisfied place of alluded passion, he pinches my clit mercilessly. The orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and my body shutters as I fall and fall.

His fingers are inside me, moving, searching for the impossible. His movements are brutal. I'm on my knees, crying, sobbing at this point for him to stop.

"Let me taste you." He eases me down to the ground as gently as possible and moves between my legs. Each touch of his tongue is like a lashing on my tender skin. I come with what I've only seen in porn videos as I cover his face with my essence, splashing all over him. I don't scream anymore. I just let myself feel.

Once I've caught my breath, I say, "I am so sorry—"

"That is the hottest thing I have ever seen." He licks his lips and sits on the concrete ground, not even trying to clean his face from my juices. Then he pulls me on top of him over his raging dick underneath his pants as he lays on his back.

"You didn't—" I start, but he nuzzles my neck.

"It wasn't about me." How is this man, of all people, so selfless? "I can hear your thoughts from here," he says with a chuckle. "Your brain is doing it again," he accuses, and I smile against his chest. "I'm just trying to understand you."

"Do tell." I rub my fingers on his naked chest, always naked.

"You asked me who I am. Tell me, how do you see yourself?"

He strokes my hair lovingly, a direct contrast to how he treated me just minutes ago. I don't know what to fear more, the need for his brand of violence or the need for his care and affection.

I need to stay away from him. All I do, however, is tangle myself even more in the spider web he's created. I'm the naïve butterfly who knows not to fly in the midst of an impending threat. But instead of getting farther away from the dangerous animal he is, I get closer, playing with it until it destroys my wings. Cuts them to bits and leaves me without my freedom.

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