Page 38 of Killing Emma

I don’t want you.

I. Don’t. Want. You.

But I do.

A whimper slips from my mouth as he strokes me, his touch setting my body on fire with arousal. I catch myself arching against him, writhing and squirming for more of him as he plays with me. He climbs onto the bed, using his knees to shove me backward so one hand can touch me while the other grips the belt. However, as he widens my legs, he drops the strap.

So he can flip me over onto my stomach.

I now feel more vulnerable than ever. I have no idea what he’s going to do to me like this. Panic surges through my body, and I try to press myself upward, but his weight is suddenly there, forcing me back down. I choke out a startled cry as his bare cock brushes my entrance, and then plunges deep inside of me.

“Oh fuck,” he groans out as his hips land on mine. “Your pussy is so tight, Little Red.” He pumps into me, and I moan, his fullness doing something in me, shattering walls and guards as he lies on top of me. “You can tell me to stop.” His hot breath hits my neck, sending shivers of excitement down my spine.

I turn my head, my nose brushing his as our eyes meet. His body slows in the moment, and I see him waiting, wanting me to tell him to stop. We should stop. I should want him to get off me—get out of me. But that would be the sensible thing to do, and being sensible isn’t what’s kept me alive this far.

“Fuck me harder,” I breathe out.

My nameless captor is silent, but his cock throbs inside of me. His lips part, as if he might say something, but instead, he pushes himself up. I think he’s about to pull out of me entirely, but I’m suddenly ripped up from the bed. I suck in a surprised breath, and I’m met with leather around my neck.

He tugs the end of the belt, and I realize he’s put it on me like a collar. There is no escaping it.

And I panic.

My hands fly up to it, my nails digging into the leather in pure desperation. He groans as he thrusts into me, holding me by the belt. I let out a cry, and he chuckles.

“This is what you asked for, Little Red.” His lips graze my neck as his other hand slides beneath my T-shirt. He brushes my stomach, and then dips lower, finding my clit. I whimper as he begins to stroke me. “You wanted to know how I killed other women, right? Well, this is how.” He jerks the belt, and I cry out, losing the ability to breathe. “But you’re the only one I’ve ever been balls deep in. You’re the only woman who’s ever kept me hard at such a moment.”

His hips begin to move in rhythm with his hand gyrating against my clit, and I gasp for air, but can’t get any. I claw at the leather, and just as my vision grows hazy, he gives it slack. I gulp in air, the moment sending a burst of arousal through my body.

I cry out as I feel myself growing close to an orgasm. His body slams into mine over and over, and I ride the high, losing myself as the belt tightens and then loosens, but never lets me lose consciousness. I drop my hands from the collar and find his forearm draped across my body.

I hang onto him as he fucks me, and my nails break his skin as I come hard, the walls of my pussy pulsing around his cock.

“Holy…” His voice trails off as he explodes inside of me, his body trembling as he crashes into me. We both fall forward on the bed, though he catches himself before crushing me entirely. His breaths pull deep and long, and I find myself lost in emotions. I squeeze my eyes shut, begging the tears not to come.

But they do anyway.

He pushes himself up, and I tense as the belt tightens.

“Easy, Emma,” he says, his voice heartbreakingly soft. My tears soak the bed as the belt slides free of my throat, death not coming close to taking me this time. A sob threatens to rattle my chest, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m relieved he didn’t try to kill me, or if it’s the fact that I feel things when he touches me.

And I don’t even know his name.

I haven’t even kissed him.

My face stays buried in the quilt as his weight disappears. I know he’s going to leave—that’s what he did last time. It’s almost a relief, as then I’ll be able to sort through all these strange, borderline forbidden, emotions privately.

As I lay there, I listen for the door to open and close, but it doesn’t happen. I tune my ear to any sound at all, but there’s none.

Where did he go?

I finally suck in a ragged breath and roll to my side, startling as I see him standing at the edge of the bed, watching me. He’s fully dressed, and his arms are folded across his chest. I know I look like a wreck, and now, I know he sees that I’ve been silently crying.

“Are you hurt?” His voice is flat, uncaring, and cold.

“No,” I snap, wiping my wet cheeks and scooting toward the edge of the bed. I’m suddenly desperate to wash my body of him. I pull the T-shirt down and stand to my feet, albeit shakily.

He reaches for my elbow, mistaking my unsteadiness for lightheadedness. I rip my arm from him, and his brows furrow—like somehow, it’s shocking I don’t want him to touch me.

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