Page 65 of Dare Me

With a forced scowl, she cinches one of my wrists to the headboard, then the other. As she leans forward, her pelvis drags against me, and I can feel the material of her panties.

“You can act like you hate this, but you and I both know that’s not true.”

With a stoney face, she says, “It is true.”

I smile out of the corner of my mouth. “Then why are your panties soaked?”

She pointedly yanks the tie, making it even tighter. “Any chance you have a gag in that murder kit of yours too?” Before I can respond, she slides off the bed and adds, “I’ll be back.”

I’m half-expecting her to walk out and never come back, but it’s only a minute later when she returns in a T-shirt dress with her hand stuffed inside a bag of chips. She only spares me a single glance before plopping herself in an armchair in the corner of the room. I watch, more and more confused, as she picks up the remote and turns on the TV.

She pulls up The Office where we left off. Taking another handful of chips, she grins mischievously and presses play.

Dropping my head into the pillow, I groan. “You gotta be kidding me.”

About halfway through the episode, Stella gets a call. Her phone must be on silent, but I can hear it vibrating on and on. I sigh. “Are you gonna get that?”

“That’s not my phone.” She looks at me like I’m being dumb.

“If it’s mine, I can’t very well pick it up myself, now can I?” I huff, writhing in my confines for emphasis.

She wets her lips before they spread into a small, devious smile. “It’s not a phone at all.”

I turn my head as much as I can, but the arm of the chair blocks her entire lower half. Damn.

“When did they start storing vibrators in the snack closet?”

“I got it from my room, idiot.” Despite her tone, her words come out breathy and it makes me pull on my restraints with a snarl. She inhales sharply, her teeth digging into her lip.

“Fuck, at least let me watch.” I groan.

“You can see the TV just fine,” she says, amused. She thinks she’s just so funny.

I listen to her soft whimpers, my jaw getting tighter and tighter with every shallow gasp. After a few minutes, I feel like my ribcage is going to explode. My desire is driving me mad. Then, I get an idea.

“It’s okay, I’ll wait,” I say cooly, trying to come across relaxed.

She pauses the show. “For?”

“Sooner or later, you’re going to get yourself so worked up that you’ll come begging for my cock.”

She barks a laugh and spins in the chair to face me. “You think I need your dick?”

“Need? No, but I do know that pussy loves being stretched.”

“Aww, someone’s little man ego thinks toys are competition,” she mocks.

“Nah, we’re teammates, baby.” I smirk. “And when you’re whining and desperate to be fucked full of cum, there’s only one of us who can deliver.”

Her eyes sharpen, and she hops out of her seat. She stares me down, a taunting tug on her lips as she slips off her panties under the long shirt. My immense satisfaction grows as she climbs onto the bed with the fire of something to prove in her eyes.

Full of stubbornness, she straddles my thighs and undoes my pants. Fighting back a smirk, I lift my hips and she pulls them down with my briefs.

She tilts her head quizzically to the side and reads my tattoo. “Fox Junior . . . ,” she says slowly, as if reading it for the first time. “Junior as in small?” She bites her lip after letting a chuckle slip out.

She dangles the bait, but I don’t bite. “Actually, I think your exact words were, ‘Fuck, you’re too big.’”

I see the urge to keep up this verbal sparring in her eyes. She resists and chooses something much more powerful. Placing her feet on either side of my hips, she slowly lifts the hem of her dress until I can see her cunt hovering just above my throbbing cock.

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