Page 33 of Look What You Made Me Do

I chuckle again. “Definitely. But you’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

“You’re sick fuck,” she spits out, which is brave of her, considering I’m holding a knife. But I’m not going to hurt her. Not permanently, anyway. I’m far more interested in watching her come.

With the tip of the knife, I lightly trace a pattern across her ass. The dull blade doesn’t cut her, but with just a little more pressure, it will. What I’m interested in now is the long wood handle. Flipping the knife in my hand, I press the handle against her moist entrance, coating it with her juices. Anotherwhimper escapes from her lips, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything.

Maybe she’s finally resigned to her fate. Smart girl.

Slowly, I push the handle in until the heel of the blade is pressed against her entrance. She groans into the mattress, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was actually enjoying this. I pull the handle out, almost all the way, then shove it back into her greedy channel, which earns me another groan.

“You like that?” I ask, thrusting with the hilt, her pussy drenching the blade and my hand.

She mumbles something I can’t hear, so I grab a handful of hair with my free hand and yank her head back. Her mouth is open, just slightly, and she’s squeezing her eyes shut.

“Say it again,” I command. She doesn’t repeat it, so I tug on her hair, pulling her head back a fraction more. Arching over her, I whisper in her ear. “Tell me, or I’ll spank you again. One strike for every time I have to ask.”

Her throat moves as she swallows. “No,” she says, licking her bottom lip. “I don’t like it.”

I’m still stroking her, burying the hilt in her soft, welcoming pussy while my finger flicks her clit. I can see the agony on her face, the torment of an unspent orgasm. Her body is betraying her, making her a liar.

I smile through the thin fabric of my mask. “You want me to stop?”

“Y-yes,” she says, her back arching as I pause to increase the pressure on her clit.

“New rule,” I whisper. “The more you lie, the harsher your punishment will be.”

She can say whatever she wants, but I can read her body like a fucking book, and she’s enjoying this shit. To prove my point, I release her hair and remove the hilt from her body, stepping back to watch her.

For several seconds, she remains on all fours, waiting. When it’s clear I’m not returning to her, she turns to look at me—and I swear to God, her eyes plead with me to continue.

“Should I finish you, or leave you wanting?” I ask. “Which would be more fun?”

She turns to face me, yanking the comforter roughly over her body. If I could see her face clearly, I’m sure she’d be glaring at me. “Get the fuck out,” she spits. “I can have someone elsefinish me.”

She’s saying that to provoke me. She wants me to fuck her without having to admit she wants it. Because saying it would cost her that precious pride she holds onto with white knuckles.

I’m wearing black slacks, and I unzip them, pulling out my swollen cock. Her eyes follow my hand as I slowly begin to stroke, my fist moving from base to tip. I get pussy all the time, and I shouldn’t need to fuck right now, but when I’m in Wyn’s presence, my cockinstantlystirs to life. Doesn’t matter how much pussy I’ve gotten, I wanther.She’s that persistent itch that I need to scratch.

Still clutching the comforter to her chest, she licks her bottom lip, eating my cock up with her eyes. I’m not even sure she realizes she’s doing it. But I know her tells.

“You want this cock?” She opens her mouth to answer, but I interrupt before she can speak. “Lie to me and see what happens.”

She clamps her mouth shut, and I imagine that glare again. She wants to play the victim. She wants to pretend she’s not being given a choice. I’m cool with that. I can play that game.

With my cock still in hand, I reach over and rip the comforter out of her fist, exposing her. She’s kneeling on the mattress, one hand wedged between her thighs.

I shake my head. “See, that’s cheating.”

Leaning forward, one knee on the mattress, I continue stroking my cock. Her tongue darts out as she licks her bottom lip.Fuck.I’m three strokes in, and I can tell I’m not going to last long. The pressure in my balls is already building. It doesn’t help that Wyn is kneeling in front of me with the musky scent of her arousal filling my lungs, feeding the frenzy of need rioting inside me.

With my free hand, I slide my fingers under her curtain of hair, and grip the back of her neck, pulling her forward. By some miracle, she lets me. I tug her head closer, my masked face brushing against her ear. “Do you want my cum, Pretty Thing?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Wyn

Pretty Thing.

I immediately stiffen when he calls me that. There’s onlyoneperson who has ever called me Pretty Thing and that’s Gabriel. He used to say my beauty was otherworldly, that I wasn’t human. That’s when he was being nice.

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