Page 50 of Look What You Made Me Do

Then I feel the mattress dip under his weight, maybe just his knee, so he can lean over me. “Scream again,” he says, removing his hand. “Do it and I’ll fill your mouth with my cock. And I’ll pump my load so far down your throat, you’ll be choking on it.”

The cold blade returns to my skin, skimming over my ribcage. Then he digs in. I can feel the pressure, and a little sting as he pulls it in one long line diagonally across my torso. I hiss, and tilt my head back, reveling in the pain. I’d never admit that though—that I get off on this—because that would give him power over me. Still, my God, warmth washes over me, like a beautiful release of tension.

His tongue follows the same path as the blade. “Fuck yes,” he hisses. “I’m going to eat you the fuck up.”

Only then do I realize, he’s licking up my blood. Another sharp sting crosses in the other direction, and again, his warm mouth follows the path, drinking me in.

What kind of sick fuck wants to lap up my blood? This is seriously giving me serial killer vibes, and that pleasure from a second ago quickly shifts back to fear. Tonight has been a whole rollercoaster of emotions—confusion, anger, fear, pleasure... It’s all a fucking

If thisisGabriel, then this is a side of him I never saw. He was always pretty vanilla in the bedroom. A quick fuck, and very little foreplay, if any at all. Most of the time, I’d have to finish myself in the bathroom after he fell asleep.

His soft mouth works down my body, biting, making me yelp, then back up again, over my breasts, sucking my beaded nipple into his mouth, sucking painfully hard. It builds a frenzy inside me, and I thrash my head, pulling at the knot that’s securing my wrists to the headboard. It loosens, just a tiny bit, but not enough.

“I want to devour you,” he whispers against my skin. “I want every fucking part of you.”

“You’re a fucking freak,” I say, twisting my body.

He chuckles a little. He thinks this is funny. “You’re not wrong,” he says against my neck, then brings his teeth down to bite me, his blunt teeth sinking into the column of my throat.

Then I feel it, his hand is between my thighs, but more than that, it feels like the hilt of his knife—or what Iprayis the hilt. The cold handle brushes over my clit, then between my pussy lips, before he pushes it inside me. I freeze, every muscle in my body going stiff.

But as he slowly starts stroking me from the inside, his mouth on my body, kissing my breasts, swirling his tongue around my nipple, my muscles start to relax, and my skin prickles, my body coming alive under his rough touch.

“You know what I think?” he says gruffly. “I think you’re a fucking freak, too. I think we’re more alike than you want to admit.”

“No,” I say, automatically denying it. I’ve been denying it to myself for so long, it’s instinct.

“You don’t think I’ve noticed?” His tongue finds the faint scars on my hip. “You don’t think I’ve known, for a long time, that you crave pain?”

That statement makes my breath catch because I didn’t think anyone knew. I’ve always been careful to keep the cuts shallow, so they heal quickly. I also use various creams to minimize the scarring. But even with all that, a couple of the cuts have left faint white lines behind. They’re not noticeable, though, unless you know what you’re looking for.

Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I don’t like that this guy knows the most intimate part of me. That, more than anything, sends fear rushing through me. Because it means he’s seen how broken I am, and it’s humiliating.

“I fucking hate you,” I spit out, one tear falling before I can stop it. Thankfully, it’s absorbed by the blindfold, so he doesn’t see it.

“It’s okay, Pretty Thing,” he whispers softly against my skin. “I hate me, too. We’ll both just have to live with it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Ghost

I’ve been so drivenby instinct and need, I haven’t stopped to consider my end game with Wyn. Glut myself on her, maybe, then once I’ve gotten enough, move on. The only problem with that is that the more I give into this dark, gnawing need to have her, the deeper, more perverse my obsession grows.

I mean, fuck, I have her tied to the bed, blindfolded, and with every hitch of her breath, my cock grows harder. If I’m not careful, I’m going to rip her apart. That’s how fucking keyed up I am. Rising from the bed, I strip my clothes off, but I leave the mask on. She’s blindfolded, anyway, but it’s not for her, it’s for me. With the mask, I’m someone else. I slip into the role of a predator, and it's Wyn Barker I’m endlessly hunting…

When I get back onto the bed, her thighs are clamped closed, her ankles crossed.

“Open your legs,” I command, impatience rushing through my blood. My balls are so damn tight, I have to grit my teeth. I’m ready to explode. I need to be inside her,now.

When she doesn’t comply, I shove my hand between her thighs and pry them open forcefully. Her strength is nothing to mine, so it doesn’t take much.

She whimpers as I hold her thighs open, positioning myself between them. I grab her face and squeeze. “When will you learn, you can’t keep yourself from me?” I say harshly as I push my cock into her warm, tight pussy. I groan as her channel clenches around me, holding me, drawing me in deeper. Fucking-A. I’m dizzy for a second, all the blood rushing from my head.

It’s like taking that first, blissful hit of ecstasy. Once that drug hits your bloodstream, it curls its warm fingers around your soul. That’s Wyn to me. Bliss. Joy. A warm feeling that makes everything else pale in comparison.

Slowly, I rock my hips forward, pushing in deeper, as deep as her body will take me. She moans and that desperate sound makes my cock swell even larger inside her. Her hips tilt upward, which allows her to take a fraction more of me.

“That’s right, baby. Take my cock like a good girl.”

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