Page 99 of Vicious Knight

I plan to eat her the instant I see her.

Finally the two minutes are up. Heather, the girl I hooked up with over the summer, makes her way over to me. Painted on her face is the same sassy smile she’s been using since the semester began to try to win me over.

She knows that hookup was just a one-time thing, so there’s little point chasing me.

I spare her the embarrassment of the rejection I would have given her and move the opposite way.

Once I’m through the door I’m almost tripping over my feet in my haste to get to Ivy.

Several people try to stop me to make small talk but I keep going, my head straight and my dick harder the closer I get.

Within five minutes I’m at Erebus, climbing the stairs to reach my apartment.

I all but yank the door open and head to the bedroom. That’s where I told Ivy to wait for me, and that’s where I find her standing by the wardrobe, dressed in the yellow lingerie I bought for her. She looks like she just stepped out of a porn magazine.

The bra is tight and too small, so her voluptuous breasts are barely contained.

The thong—if you can call it that—is nothing but a string holding together a small triangle that covers the slit of her pussy.

Fuck me. This girl is fucking magic. Every other girl I’ve been with has been a poor substitute for her. Ivy Yegorov is the real deal.

And she’s pissed at me. Clearly because of what I’ve dressed her in.

Or maybe she’s just pissed to see me. I don’t really care. She’s fucking beautiful.

“You were supposed to be lying on the bed waiting for me.” I grin at her and tilt my head to look her up and down.

“You are an asshole. I don’t want to wear this.”

“And yet you are.”

“As if I had a damn choice.”

“You always have a choice, Bambi. It's just that your particular choices are limited. And the alternative to defiance doesn’t look that great for you. This, on the other hand…” I wave my hand up and down as if I’m touching her, caressing her body from head to toe.

“It makes me look like a slut.” Her voice is stiff.

I grin back at her and hold my hands out wide. “But you’re my slut. My good little slut.”

“I’m not a slut.”

I walk up to her and scan her beautiful, tempting body. She was fucking made for me.

Her throat works as she swallows and watches me. The other week she was scared of me, now she looks like she’s scared of herself. Scared of what she’s starting to feel for me.

She wants me, too. It’s in her eyes all the time now, and it makes me savor how much I’ve broken her.

I catch her face and lift her chin. “Bambi, if I want you to be my slut then that is what you’ll be.”

“You bastard.” Her hands fist at her sides.

“Yeah, I am. Now get on the bed.”

She stares up at me. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to go home.”

“Changed your mind about what exactly?”

“I don’t want to be with you tonight.”

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