Page 331 of Bad for Me

“If you open your mouth, it better be to tell me you’re hungry, have to pee, or you want to fuck again. Other than that, keep it shut,” he growls at me.

“What’s your name? Your brother never mentioned you.”

He stares at me and shakes his head. “Mitchell.”

I was married to someone who kept his family from me. Twenty-four years.God, I’m such an idiot.The red flags screamed at me every day with my ex, and here I am, trying to get away from him, falling right back into someone attached to the bastard. “Mitchell, please let me go. I implore you.”

“What did I say?”

“Not to talk unless…”

As he stands above me, he brings his shirt over his head. He rolls it into a long, rope-like shape and presses it against my mouth. “You’ll learn I’m nothing like my brother. I’m much worse.”

My eyes pop open, and I try not to think about what that means as he ties the shirt ends around my head. “Now, be quiet while I take a shower.”

When he walks away, I breathe a smidgen easier. Moving my legs, the feel of the rope against them hurts. Ignoring it, I continue to move. My left foot slips from the bonds, but my right foot is still stuck. The skin around my wrists is raw from trying to get loose. Tears of frustration slip down my cheeks. I’m so into my thoughts I don’t hear the shower shut off or notice Mitchell standing there, dripping droplets of water onto the cabin floor.

“You’ve been busy.” His voice shatters my moment of self-pity, and I turn to him with my eyes. I wish looks could kill because right now, he’d drop to his death.

Mitchell chuckles and bends down to sit on the couch. My left ankle is bleeding, and my right foot is free. I kick out at him and catch him on his side. It takes him by surprise, and he falls to the floor, laughing harder.

“Feisty, poppet. I love it. The harder you fight me, the more I’m going to enjoy fucking you until you cream all over my cock.”

Kicking him again isn’t a possibility as he grabs my foot and inspects the wound I have now. “What a shame to see such perfect, unmarred skin become imperfect. Maybe I should cut your foot off. Then, it wouldn’t matter if you had a scar. Yes?”

Oh my God. He’s crazier than I thought.Panic fills me as he caresses my foot. Shaking my head profusely, I try to move my foot out of his grasp. “Don’t like that idea? Would you like it broken?” His glacier eyes stare down at me, and I shrink back from him.

“No? Alright. I guess we can stop the bleeding and patch it up. I mean, if that’s really what you want.” He’s toying with me. My arms shake as fear swirls within me. This is worse than my ex. He would just beat me until I complied. This man. He enjoys emotionally and mentally putting me through hell.

Mitchell kisses my ankle. A tremor runs through my leg as he licks the wound and moans. “You better be careful with my poppet. She’s mine, and I don’t like knowing she’s hurt.” His voice is so soft that I’m unsure if he’s being real or if he’s just thinking to himself.

A suckle on my skin and another long lick against the wound makes me uncertain if he really wants to hurt me or if he’s doing this for his brother. His mouth moves up along my calf and I whimper. It seems I can’t help it when he’s being gentle. Or when he’s giving me amazing orgasms.

The words I throw at him are muffled. Dang it, I wish he could hear me telling him off. I’m not even angry at the fact he would slap me for them.Hell no.I’d rather him be mad at me than be gentle and act like I’m his. I’m most definitely never going to be his.

“Looks like I’m going to have to bandage this ankle and then tend to your wrists. If you hadn’t done this, we could have enjoyed a good evening together.”

He smirks at me and winks. “We still just might do so.” Mitchell laughs and lowers my foot, and runs his hand along my calf, up my thigh, and to my vagina. I close my eyes, not wanting to face the fact that I’m still wet for him. That if he touches me down there, I will arch into his fingers and make myself look like a needy woman.

The problem is that I am needy. For some reason, I can’t seem to shake that I enjoy his touch. It makes me angry that he seems to know that.

“Look at you, sweet poppet. Still so fucking wet.” The first finger enters me, quickly followed by the second. I gasp around the shirt and my mouth trembles. I don’t want to be affected by him, but I am. My pussy clenches around him as he rubs against my G-spot.

Oh God, it feels so good.

“If you give me an orgasm, I’ll untie you,” he whispers. It sounds almost like a plea for him to have me free. To show me some type of compromise, but can I believe that he will hold true to his words?

My body doesn’t give a damn about any of that. He expertly moves around my body, playing with my special button inside of me. It takes four strokes of his fingers to make me shatter for him. The way my mind ignores that I’m in trouble here seems to make this more intense. Mitchell’s free hand is rubbing against my chest, teasing my nipples. I whimper with need as he kisses my forehead.

7

MITCHELL

I watch her for a moment,enjoying the pleasure. Her beauty shines through the second she forgets I’m the bad guy. This is everything to me. It’s hard to believe I’m here, to be honest. My brother will want proof that she’s dead, eventually. Sure, he was happy that I got rid of her so fast, but he’s not one to give up immediately. Hell no. He’s going to want to see the proof.

Do I want to give it, though?

No. Fuck, no.

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