Page 51 of Seeds of Malice

"What don't you understand?"

"Why me? There are so many other girls in this town. So why me?"

I chuckle. There are so many reasons I could give her. I could tell her the truth about how she's naive, unspoiled, easily manipulated, and so goddamn beautiful I can't stop thinking about her. Or I could confess about how the moment I saw her, I became obsessed with turning her into my play toy.

Instead, I tell only half the truth. "You've seen those girls, Ivy. There's nothing special about them. They're fake. They're mean. They're not who I want to be with. And I told you before, you're real. You're beautiful. You have curves and real boobs, for God's sake. And this pussy..." I put my hand back on it, circling her clit.

She inhales a deep breath again, holding it, waiting to exhale.

I continue. "I want to kiss it. Tell me I can kiss it, Ivy."

She doesn't answer for a moment. She looks so scared I think she might tell me no. But then she surprises me. In her hoarse voice, she barely gets out, "Okay. You can kiss it, Dax."

"That's my good slut. You make me so happy. You know that?"

She scrunches her forehead. "Slut?"

I lean closer and pinch her clit, murmuring, "Yeah, my slut. Every man wants a slut, Ivy. They don't want a tease. They want a woman who knows she's a woman, not a prude. So you want to be my slut, right?"

She holds her breath, and tense silence follows.

I slowly start to roll off her. "Sorry. I guess you're not ready for me. Or maybe you're a prude and don't go after who you want in life...someone who is dying for you and wants to give you the world."

She grabs my arm. "Wait."

Bingo!

I freeze and turn. "It's okay, you don't?—"

She tugs my head toward her and presses her lips to mine.

I mumble against her lips, "That's my good slut."

She stills again.

"You and your hungry pussy are mine, Ivy. Your sexy-ass C cups and teasing lips are all mine. Understand, my sexy little slut?"

Her mouth curves up.

"Ah. My slut likes it when I talk dirty," I claim.

She giggles. A light fills her eyes. "I do?"

And this is why I gave her alcohol.

I pat myself on the back, then praise her some more. "Yeah, my dirty whore. And you make me so happy that if I don't make you feel the best you ever have before, I'm going to die. You're going to be the cause of my death, my pussy-dripping slut."

She beams brighter, but anxiety swirls in her light. I can tell she still isn't totally on board with my pet names, but she will be soon. It's all about training her, and I'm an expert at turning naive girls into wanting me at all hours of the day.

I circle my finger around her clit again and suck on her tit some more until she's moaning. I retreat and ask, "How often do you play with yourself?"

She tenses, staring at me as if caught in an act.

"It's okay, my little whore. Tell me. I can't stop thinking about you pleasuring yourself. It makes me so damn hard." I squeeze her hand that's holding my cock.

"I-I h-haven't," she stutters out.

I can't help it and groan out loud. I shouldn't, but it's better than I fucking thought. I admit, "That's so fucking hot."

---