Page 141 of That's Too Pucking Bad

The room is dim, just the flicker of candlelight casting shadows on the walls.

His house.

He moved in here a little over six months ago, and it is nothing like the mansion he was used to, but he has managed to make this his home. He is yet to access his trust fund, but he works hard to pay all his bills.

I am proud of him. My mom is proud of him too.

The air smells of wax and anticipation, thick and heady. I can feel the ropes tight around my wrists, my pulse thrumming in my veins.

Zane’s behind me, and I can hear the subtle scrape of his knuckles against my skin as he moves slowly, teasing. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the moan that’s threatening to slip out.

“You good?” he asks, his voice low and husky, like it always is when he's this close. His face is covered with a replica of the red mask. He likes to wear it when we play.

“Yeah,” I manage, barely.

His fingers slide lower, making me gasp as they brush over the edge of my underwear, his touch just enough to send sparks racing through my body. He runs his finger between my ass cheeks, and I flinch.

“Tell me what you want, Remy,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

“Honestly,” I breathe, “just… your dick, please, in my pussy. Maybe my mouth, but nowhere else.”

He chuckles softly, the sound dark and knowing. “You’re mine, right?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I’m yours.”

“All of you?”

“Yes, baby, all of me.”

“Good,” he says, voice thick with satisfaction. His hand slides lower, a slow, deliberate motion that makes me shiver.

I want to scream at him, beg him to do more, but I hold back. I don’t need to say anything— he knows. He always knows.

“Zane,” I gasp as his fingers slip past the waistband of my underwear, his touch scorching, gentle yet demanding. “Please make me come. You have been edging me for so long.”

He pauses, just for a second, and I hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again. “You’ll be fine. We’ve got time. Caleb will not be here for another thirty minutes and I am sure I can persuade him to wait.”

I try to protest, but he swats my ass hard, a firm, possessive smack that makes me yelp. “Not so fast, baby. Graduation can wait. You’re mine right now.”

I moan, giving in to the heat spreading through me. He’s right. I don’t care about anything else, not when he’s here, not when he’s like this.

His hand moves lower, more sure, and I can feel myself unraveling at the way he touches me, so damn sure of what he wants, what he knows will drive me crazy.

“Let golittle slut,” he orders, his voice calm but full of power as he pushes two of his fingers into me.

I try, I do, but it’s hard. His touch is a drug, and I’m high on it, tangled up in ropes and desire.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he mutters, his lips brushing against my neck as his fingers find their rhythm, pushing me to the edge.

I can barely hold it together, but I do. I know there’s no rush, not with him, not with the way he’s working me over. The world outside can wait.

But just as I start to lose myself, he pulls back, his fingers gone, and I groan, frustrated.

“Relax,” he whispers. “We’ve got time. You’re not going anywhere.”

I whimper as I watch him reach for the glistening pink vibrator he has been using on me all morning.Fuck.

His hand smacks my ass, hard enough to make me jump, the sting sending a thrill straight to my core. “You’re mine. You’re not going anywhere.”

---