Page 19 of Cruel Devil

I’m left draped over the chair, shell shocked in the worst way.

Clit throbbing, pussy aching, my entire body shivering.

Savage’s zip rasps behind me. Then muffled clicks as he unscrews his gun’s suppressor.

“I wasn’t finished, you motherfucker,” I say woodenly.

My body still feels shrouded in lead, too heavy to move. Maybe that’s why I barely move when he plants a chaste kiss on my ass cheek, and hardly whimper when he tries to take a chunk out of my flesh with his teeth, leaving a stinging bite mark behind.

He pats me like a horse, and tugs my dress down over my back.

“Only good girls get to come. And you’ve been a bad girl, Angel.”

The rage flares out of me like a lightning strike. I don’t even know what I’m about to do until I’ve hurled myself in the desk’s direction and snatched up the pair of scissors I must have been eyeing subconsciously the entire time Savage was fucking me with his gun.

I must have caught him off guard, because when I turn and charge him, he almost doesn’t get a hand up to defend himself before I have him pressed to the wall.

He could push me away, but now I have a weapon, and its wickedly sharp point is currently denting the side of his neck.

“Why would I be with someone who doesn’t give a shit about me or my sisters, huh? “

He keeps his one hand up, palm facing me.

There’s stony sullenness on his face, and that makes me smile, despite how badly I want to end his life. How dare he fuck me like that and not even have the decency to make me come?

I know it’s his punishment because I ran away, but doesn’t he fucking know me by now?

I can smell his cum, my arousal, the dust and the cheap pine used to make this place. I toss a chunk of hair out of my face. I’m still aching inside, clit still thumping like a second heart.

Maybe I should bend him over the chair and see how deep I can shove that Beretta into his asshole.

God, just the thought makes tears run down the inside of my leg.

“That’s not true,” he murmurs. I don’t like the fact that his usually cold, dead eyes are flickering with a heat that could only be anger. I know there’s a furnace churning inside him most days, but it’s so rare that he allows it to surface.

“If only there was a shred of concern on your face,” I angle the tip of the scissors until it’s pricking the flesh under his chin, exactly where he’d been pointing that fucking gun of his. “But all I see in those pretty brown eyes is a monster.”

Those dark eyes narrow.

I press the scissors a little harder against his throat, right at the junction of what looks like a bird of prey and a flaring sun.

“Stop calling me that,” he grates out.

“What? A monster?” I press a little harder, until a tiny dot of blood springs out of his punctured skin. “If it looks like a duck, and sounds like a duck…”

God, I can’t take it anymore. The way his black eyes are watching me, the slow bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. I’ve never had him at my mercy like this before.

Keeping one hand on the knife, I use the other to gather up my pale skirts until I can slip under and touch myself. Savage glances down, and then his eyes are back on mine, furiously narrowed like he’s daring me.

I don’t need him to egg me on. The moment I touch my clit, bliss surges through me. My mouth trembles as I rub myself faster, tiny moans slipping out as my pleasure builds.

“No one tells me when I can come, Papi,” I breathe, moving the tip of the scissors a quarter inch away from his throat in case I stab him when I climax. But I don’t know if it’s because he looks so grim, but I’m not getting there as fast as I’d like.

I take my hand away, stepping right up to him, his thigh between my legs. My pussy grinds against his jeans, reaching just below mid-thigh.

Fuck, that feels good. I start humping his leg, moaning when he shifts his weight so that his knee is slightly bent, giving me an even better angle.

I’m so close. My eyelashes flutter, mouth parting as I pant softly.

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