Page 101 of Whispers of Obsession

The sound of Cora’s cries is muffled by her head in the pillow, but I can tell she’s fighting to get away from me. It’s futile. I’m too strong. Her whimpers and pleas are like music to my ears, driving me on. I feel an orgasm rising in me, and I know I’m close, but I won’t succumb before she learns that this is what she needs. It’s who she is. I thrust harder into her, the knife digging deeper into her flesh as she lets out an anguished wail. She’s close too. So fucking close and needy.

With one hand, I fist her hair to turn her head to the side, raising the other hand, which clutches the knife before her face. Her eyes widen and she starts to buck and scream when she sees the blood on the blade, but all it does is force my cock even deeper into her ass.

“Don’t fight it, Cora. Your cunt is clenching and dripping at the sight of your blood. You love this, little darkness. Embrace it.”

The more it hurts, the closer she gets to orgasming.

And she’s so fucking close to coming that it must really fucking hurt.

But it’s not enough.

She needs a different kind of pain to get her over the finishing line.

Cora’s eyes widen in terror and pain as I force the blade into her mouth, the cold steel of the knife touching her tongue, the metallic taste of her own blood flooding her mouth, especially when I press the blade down and nick her tongue.

The sudden release of tension gushes out of her in waves, and she experiences what I know is a mind-blowing orgasm ripping through her entire body. Her muscles clench, releasing a flood of fluids that mix with our combined energies, the sound of it almost drowning out her screams of pained pleasure.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. You bleed for me so well. So prettily. Embrace this, Cora. Embrace this pleasure that only I can bring you. Because you’re mine. Your darkness is mine. And I’ll kill anyone who tries to tell you differently.”

As Cora convulses beneath me, my hands grip her hips tightly, riding the waves of her climax as best as I can. I can feel the vibrations of my thrusts resonating through her entire body, her skin aglow with the intensity of our connection. I’m forgotten, consumed, and lost in this moment, in the dark, twisted world we’ve created together.

As the last wave of Cora’s orgasm recedes, I withdraw my knife and clamp my hand over her mouth, muffling her screams of pain and pleasure. I slide out of her ass, my cock twitching in response to the release. Cora shudders beneath me, her body still trembling from the force of her climax.

I grab the knife and wipe it off on the rumpled bedsheets. I stare at her a moment, my eyes lingering on the discarded vibrator and the gun.

I could end this game now, but I’m not ready to stop playing.

Cora needs me. I need her.

We are bound by a darkness that only we can understand.

45

CORA

It’s been three days since my life went to shit - all my own doing I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. I’m so fucking mad at myself. Mad and ashamed.

Not only did I push Slater to do something he clearly wasn’t ready for or comfortable with, I then cheated on him with the masked man and never said a word about it.

I don’t even remember if I asked the masked man to stop.

I was exhausted by the time the masked man had finished with me, falling into a disturbed slumber that was full of pain and suffering.

Suffering I wholeheartedly deserved.

I woke up a sore, groggy mess - untied - but that was nothing compared to my emotional turmoil. There’s burn marks on my wrists from the restraints, scabs where my cuts have started to heal over, bruises, nail marks, dried blood. My muscles ached from the intensity of my orgasms, my ass was on fire without even lying on my back, my throat was raw from sobbing and screaming, and my face was tight with dried tears.

A mess.

I may have cleaned myself up, changed the sheets, made it seem like the masked man was never here since then, but it didn’t matter anyway. Because Slater hasn’t been home.

Three days.

Three days of not responding to my messages and calls. He had me taken off the roster again at work, so I’ve not had any shifts, and I don’t feel comfortable going to the bar and confronting him when he’s at work. I don’t even know where he is, or if he’s okay. Where is he staying? Has he gone home to his dad’s? Why is he staying away? Was what we did that terrible? Do I disgust and sicken him that much?

Is he comparing me toher?

The nightmares are always worse when Slater’s not around, but that’s a selfish reason to ask him to come back. I miss him. The apartment is horrible and empty without him, and the longer he stays away, the less welcome I feel. I should go back to my dorm, but I’m weak. I feel like the second I set foot in there, Sean will show up again and finally break me.

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