Page 72 of Vengeful Lies

“You didn’t really think you were marrying a sane man, did you?” He chuckles as he gently tugs the string of my tampon. “As I’ve told you before, red is my favorite color.”

The moment the tampon is free from my body, he drops it to the floor. I gape in embarrassment at our reflections in the mirror, but he hisses as he inserts a finger into me, and my expression changes to a mixture of mortified and mesmerized.

“Admit it, it feels good,” he whispers into my ear. “Momentary truce?”

I don’t want to admit it. I want to tell him to stop. To tell him this is wrong. But my mouth is dry. And his fingers feel so good.

Maybe it’s the buzz of the champagne that’s locked up my words, leaving me only able to stare into his eyes, as if right now they’re the one thing keeping me from floating away. I eventually nod in answer to his question. Momentary truce or whatever the fuck it is we’re doing.

“Remove your panties,” he instructs as he steps back.

I gulp as I do as he says and then turn to face him. He watches as they slip down my legs to my ankles, and I step out of them. His nostrils flare as he undoes his pants, his cock springing free as he says, “On your knees.”

That’s when I notice the glisten of red on his fingers and want to shy away. “There is nothing about you that disgusts me,amore mio.” My heart squeezes at the endearment, but then I realize the type of sick monster he is when he brings his fingers to his lips. He licks them, and I fall to my knees. I’m unsure if I do it out of shock or because I can’t not do what he says in this moment. He’s so otherworldly in his sexual and primal demand, pushing me in ways I never thought possible. And it doesn’t repulse me. No, it calls to something in me I didn’t know was there.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as he looks at me expectantly. I stare at his massive, veiny cock and lick my lips. The white dress pools around me, and despite the expensive garment I wear, he looks at me as if I’m a whore. My core floods with heat, and I lean forward for a taste. I lick a drop of pre-cum, the salty taste far more inviting than the bubbles of champagne that have clearly gone to my head.

I slide my mouth over his cock, my lips stretching to accommodate him. I fist him at the same time, unable to fit thelength of him in my mouth. He brushes my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and I make a point not to look away as I try my best to take all of him. “So fucking beautiful on your knees for me, Kitten. Now, dig your claws in and make me come.”

He slips his hand to his back beneath his suit jacket, and a moment later, he pulls out a knife. “If you bleed, so do I.”

I pull back as he brings the tip of the knife to my chest. My breath hitches before I realize he’s cutting down the front of the dress.

“What are you doing?” I whisper frantically, freaking out that he’s so casually destroying a six-figure dress.

“We agreed on a slit, didn’t we?” He smirks. “Besides, your breathing is too shallow in this dress, and I want you to accommodate all of me.”

Suddenly, I can breathe properly, and he smirks as he hands me the knife. “Carve your initials into a place my mother won’t see.”

And my mind goes completely blank as he threads his fingers through my hair and brings my lips to his cock again.

CHAPTER 37

Eli

The moment her lips are around my cock, I’m ready to blow all over that beautiful face of hers. I can tell I’m pushing her to her limits, but she’s the first woman I think can actually keep up with my depravity.

Her teeth graze down my cock, and I hiss in pleasure.

This fucking mouth of hers.

She’s on her knees, in a wedding dress I can’t wait to paint red. She’s a fucking goddess. As she edges the blade toward me, I pray that somehow I’ll be able to blackmail this woman to stay by my side even after our arrangement is over because she’s made so perfectly for me.

She keeps the leisurely pace on my cock as tears streak down her face. She tips the blade to my left leg, right above the pretty little scar she gave me when she stabbed me.

“Do it,” I tell her. “Carve your fucking initials into my leg.”

I never want to forget this moment.

I never want to forgether.

There’s a mix of pleasure and burning pain that has my cock twitching with excitement as she carves J.D. into my left leg. Every fine line and curve that slices into my flesh has me so closeto coming in her mouth that I’m not sure I’ll make it all the way through.

The moment she’s finished with the letters, I yank her back from my cock by her hair and bring her to standing. My lips are on hers within seconds as I shove her back until we find a flat surface. She smashes against the mirror, cracking it. When I consider it might hurt her, I pick her up and step back.

She moans into my mouth desperately, her wild beast calling mine. I sink her onto my cock, and grunt as she leans back, her arms around my neck. The white dress is torn in places, spots of blood marring the pristine color.

But it’s not enough.

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