Page 81 of Ready Or Not

Manson’s beside me in a flash, hand around my throat and slamming me into the wall. “Thought you could get one over on me?”

I chuckle as I try to suck in a breath. “No piss kink then? Shame. And I always thought you were freaky.”

“Riley.” His grip is so tight I feel the blood rushing in my ears.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” I gasp as his hand spasms.

“What were you doing?”

Manson loosens his grip just enough that I don’t pass out completely.

“I was going to call Noel and tell him to go to hell.” I smirk.

Manson’s head is by my neck, his breath hot in my ear. “He’ll never touch you again. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking ruin him, Riley. It’s over.”

Annoyance shoots into me. “Oh, shocking. You’re fighting my battles for me.”

“Riley.” I feel his hand slam into the wall by my head, and it sends a thrill through me. His voice trembles. He’s barely in control.

I laugh around the pressure he’s putting on my throat. I know poking him is the worst thing to do. There are two parts of me: one that wants to push him until he breaks and another that hates the idea of a world where he actually does give up.

But when I open my mouth, what comes out is, “Did Rachel hit you in the head? All you’re saying is Riley, Riley.”

Before I know it, I’m on the couch, and Manson drops over me. His hand is back on my throat, and he rips my shorts down. The violence of it shoots pain through me, and I revel in it. The chaos in my brain feels right when he’s like this.

“Just fucking…stop fighting me!”

I laugh harshly. “Sure thing, Noel. Oops, sorry, I meant Manson.”

If I thought Manson was rough before, it’s like he completely lost it. He flips me over, and I hear the crack of his hand before sharp, delicious pain rushes through my ass. His hand cracks down again on the same spot. Over and over until the pain amplifies with each hit. My skin gets hot, and I can feel the force of the strikes in my bones. I can’t help but struggle a little.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?” He strikes after each hit.

I can’t keep the groan of pain down. But it’s also accompanied by arousing tingles that rush up and down my whole body. My pussy is soaked.

“Suck my dick,” I gasp.

Suddenly, Manson stops. I brace myself, waiting for another hit, and he chuckles. Instead of a hit, his fingernails trace across where he was hitting me, sending another wave of goosebumps over me. It feels fucking amazing.

“What were you doing on my phone?”

“I told you, calling N-”

He hits me so hard I see stars.

I groan, a sassy response hot on my tongue, but Manson switches to my other asscheek, hitting hard and fast, pain lighting up there too.

I struggle to get out from his punishing hand. Manson just laughs, but it’s not amused. “Yes, fight me, Riley. Show me just how much it hurts. You can brat until you’re blue in the face, but I’ll always get my way. Now tell me why you didn’t tell me.”

I hiss, but he hits me again, and I can feel my skin bruising in a delicious way. Again and again and again, the pain comes. I squirm to find relief, which just makes Manson groan.

I feel my body wanting to submit to him, even while my brain screams that we’re in danger. I have to redirect this. “Where’s your mask?” I taunt. “Or are you finally brave enough to admit you’ve been panting after me since we were teens?”

There’s a dark chuckle, and it makes goosebumps run across my skin. I’m tempting fate. I know I am. It makes me feel even more alive, sending a thrill through my whole body.

I expect another hit, but it doesn’t come. I do everything I can to keep from squirming. Manson has gone deadly silent.

Finally, his fingers run softly across my skin. “Oh, is that what you want?” Suddenly, he flips me over so I’m facing him and drops down over my body. He smiles at me mockingly. “You want me to…how did you say it, pant over you?”

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