Page 5 of Razors & Ruin

“You took my possessions?” he snarls, his breath on my face. “How dare you?”

My back thumps into the wall, and he pins me in place, his free hand roaming over my body. “That means you owe me.”

I’m panting. I can’t speak, not with Sweeney’s hand constricting my windpipe, but if I could, I’d explain that his precious razors are safe and sound. He sees I’m trying to get words out and releases me, tossing me aside as he storms away.

“Explain,” he says, his back to me. “If I don’t like the answer, I swear I’ll fuck you against the wall, and I won’t give a shit if it hurts you.”

I search my mind, desperate to say the wrongest thing possible. He won’t kill me, not when he’s freshly paroled, but I really want him to make good on his threat.

“I sold them,” I lie. “Not for much, if I’m honest. Were they real silver? The man at the jeweler said they were only plated.”

Sweeney turns to face me, his eyes churning with rage, and my pussy seizes with need. This shouldn’t be how it happens. What kind of girl keeps her honor, even through marriage, only to lose it to a brutal murderer?

There’s something seriously wrong with me. But as he clenches his solid jaw, ready to unleash his power, I cannot deny the flood of wetness in my panties.

I’ll tell him the truth afterward, but I’m ready to surrender. I’ve been ready for years.

Sweeney shrugs his suspenders off his shoulders and unbuttons his trousers. I stare, mesmerized, as his cock comes into view.

Even my fevered memory never got it right; it’s bigger than I remember, with turgid blue veins rippling over the length. The tip is a livid maroon color, and a droplet of clear liquid appears as he strokes his hand along his shaft.

“You are gonna take every inch, Nellie.” He pumps harder, his lips parting with a gasp of pleasure. “This is what you wanted, so you’re gonna get it. Don’t you think that’s kind of me?”

I shake my head. Of course, I want it, but I didn’t spend years honing a fantasy for nothing.

I don’t want to give; I want him totake. To make my body his plaything and my pussy his come-dump, now and whenever he likes. To say so aloud would spoil the carefully curated scene that runs in my mind every time I touch myself.

“It’s okay.” Sweeney closes the space between us and groups my chin, thrusting his thumb into my mouth. “I know exactly what you’re about. You want to be my whore, but it won’t do to say so. Luckily, I’m a man who loves a bit of resistance. Makes life more interesting.”

He pulls back his hand and slaps my cheek, not hard, but it catches me off guard and sends me spinning. I fall onto my knees, and he’s behind me, his hand on the small of my back.

“Stay there.” He rummages beneath my skirts, dragging them to my waist, and he tugs at my panties. “These are fucking sodden. You’ve missed cock that much?”

“I’ve never had one,” I gasp, wriggling as he leans his weight onto me.

“You’re joking.” He pulls my underwear down and lifts my knees so he can remove them. “This slutty pussy has never been fucked?”

I part my thighs slightly. “Never. Will it hurt?”

“Fuck yes.” His voice is low, almost reverent. “Although not as much as it would if you weren’t dripping wet. You like to play with your cunt?”

“Um…yes,” I say, shyness taking over. “I get, you know, restless.”

“Dirty little bitch.”

Sweeney grips my hair, yanking my head back as he drags me over his knee. His other hand comes down hard on my ass, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room.

The pain is sharp and searing, and I cry out, my body jolting forward. But there’s something else there, too, something dark and twisted that makes my pulse race.

He spanks me again, harder this time, the air cracking with the sound of the impact. He’s not holding back, and it’s agony, but already my flesh is going numb.

“Stop!” I cry. “I don’t want this!”

“You’re full of shit, Mrs. Lovett.” He pauses, running a finger through my slit. “Needy cunts like yours don’t know how to lie.”

My cheeks burn with humiliation and arousal, and my ass cheeks are just as hot. I’m wet, soaking wet, and I can feel my juices dripping down my thighs. My clit throbs, begging for attention, and I squirm against the bed, desperate for release.

He leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “You like that, don’t you? You like being my dirty little slut.”

---