Page 14 of Serpent King's Bride

But it was necessary; she had to understand the rules had changed.

She had lied, and she needed to be punished.

Abby’s eyes locked onto mine, defiance and something darker glimmering within their depths. Her lips parted, perhaps to argue or plead, but there was no room for discussion. Not now. I shoved myself into her mouth, feeling her warmth engulf me.

“Better not bite,” I warned, though part of me—a twisted, sick part—wondered if I wanted her to test me. I held her hands firmly, pinning them above her as I set the pace, reminding her of who was in control here. Or at least, who was supposed to be.

Her gaze never wavered from mine, a silent challenge in the midst of her submission. She sucked with a fervor that clawed at my insides, and I could feel the control slipping through my fingers like sand. It was infuriating how she could turn this around, make me feel like the one who was powerless, even as she knelt before me.

“Fuck, look at you,” I growled, watching her take me deeper. “Just like the little slut I always knew you were.” There was no love in my words, only a biting venom. “I collared you for a reason, Abby. Because you can’t be trusted.”

She hummed around me, vibrations sending shivers up my spine. My hips jerked involuntarily, thrusting into the heat of her mouth. Was she getting into this? The thought ignited a fresh wave of anger and desire in me.

“And now you’ll be used, just like the toy you are,” I spat out, each word punctuated by a thrust. “You think you’re in control? You think you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger?” I scoffed, but there was an edge of uncertainty to my voice.

“Remember who owns you, Abby. Remember who put that pretty little collar around your neck.” My grip on her hair tightened reflexively. “That’s right, you belong to me. And I’m going to use you however I see fit.”

The air between us was charged, every insult and degradation hanging heavy, yet it only seemed to spur her on further. She was the living embodiment of my greatest weakness, and as much as I hated her for it, I couldn’t deny the intoxicating power she had over me.

“Keep going,” I commanded, voice husky with lust. “Show me how good of a pet you can be.”

Gritting my teeth, I pulled her up just shy of my breaking point, dragging her by the arm to the kitchen island. The cool marble contrasted against the heat of our bodies as I shoved her forward, yanking down her bikini bottoms with a rough tug.

“Look at you,” I sneered, finding her slick and ready for me. “All wet for your captor. You’re as much a psycho as I am.”

My fingers slid through her arousal, a cruel smirk twisting my lips as I mocked her desire. It was twisted, this game between us, but it was the only one we knew how to play. I dragged my fingers up to her ass, a place I hadn’t used her yet—but fuck, I wanted to.

“Dirty sluts like you,” I hissed, pressing one slick finger into her asshole, “should have all their holes used.”

Did she understand that? That she was mine to use, in every depraved way I wanted?

But even as the thought crossed my mind, my stomach knotted. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her—not really. There were lines even I wouldn’t cross, unspeakable things I couldn’t do to her despite everything.

And I asked, even though I knew it made me weak…because she made me weak.

“Do you want it?” My voice cracked with a mix of anger and lust, my hands betraying the tenderness I felt even now. “Tell me you want it, Abby.”

“Please, Nathan,” Abby’s voice was a ragged whisper, laced with need, as she started begging. Her plea rang in my ears, drawing me closer to the edge of madness where only she could push me.

“Remember this,” I warned her, shoving another finger inside her, stretching her wider. “I’m big. It’s going to hurt.” But she was so wet, her arousal collecting on the fingers that shoved in and out of her ass in a steady rhythm.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, her eyes locked onto mine over her shoulder, her voice growing bolder with each word. “In the ass, Nathan. Do it.”

Her hips pushed back against me, grinding against my cock, begging for more than just my fingers. With every fiber of my being screaming at me to resist, I found that I couldn’t.

Not when it came to her.

“Fine,” I growled, giving into the inevitable. My hands gripped her hips as I lined myself up with her entrance. “You’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you, Abby? Always getting what you want.”

Then I shoved inside her.

She cried out, a strangled sound that made my cock twitch as the tight ring of muscle squeezed around me. As I entered her, her tightness enveloping me, I knew I was lost in her all over again. I thrust into her, each move punctuated by filthy words that spilled from my lips unbidden.

“You’re mine,” I rasped, even as the irony of the statement clawed at my insides. “My little plaything. My pet. You think you control me, but you don’t.”

Yet, with every moan that escaped her lips, with every desperate clench of her around me, I could feel the lie in my own words. She held the reins, and we both knew it. Abbey had become the master, and I was nothing but a slave to her desires—a pawn in the twisted game we played.

“Tell me you love it,” I commanded, my voice breaking as I sought her gaze, looking for any sign that she felt even a fraction of what consumed me.

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