Page 6 of Reckless Hearts

“Hold still, or I’ll cut you,” he spits. “But I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Wes pulls the ribbon at the top of my corset. “I could gut you like a fish and your pussy would still weep for me.”

What is it about me that makes me instantly soaked at the thought of being helpless and bleeding, begging for mercy as I surrender to his every command?

He hooks the knife underneath the ribbon and pulls it taut, keeping me anchored. In one quick motion, the knife slices through the lacing, exposing the swell of my chest. My nipples, hard and heavy, threaten to tear through the fabric.

“Such a pretty little whore,” he coos, his voice dripping with sadistic cruelty, before he raises my phone, filming me. “Such a perfect body in such a silly costume. Are you so desperate forattention that you have to dress like a slut and meet strangers on the internet? Hm? You don’t have to dress up on my account, baby, you’ve already caught my attention.” He slices more of the ribbon, tugging my corset strings apart to expose my flesh. “What I really need is to see you beg for your life.”

I gaze into the black holes of Wes’s mask, biting my lip. “Please don’t kill me,” I say, looking through my lashes like a good little victim, feigning fear and innocence at his impossibly tall, broad stature. “I’ll do anything. Please.”

“Killing you would be a damn waste of that body, slut.” He hooks two fingers into my mouth and pulls me closer, the musky, slightly sweet taste of leather seeping onto my tongue. “Then again, I’d still fuck this pretty mouth if you were dead. Imagine if you took your last breath on my cock. You’ve got me so hard thinking about how I could end your life with you choking down my dick,” he growls. It’s messed up, but it’s probably the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.

May as well book my ticket to hell.

In one swift motion, Wes’s knife slices through the remaining lacing. The corset falls to the floor, leaving me exposed in nothing but my tiny skirt and stockings.

“Mm. Perfect,” he croons, dragging the tip of the knife from the swell of my chest down to my nipple, pressing the blade into the centre of the puckered bud before retreating to the bed, perching on the edge.

A flash of movement in my periphery catches my attention. Outside, amidst the stillness, a masked figure stands in wait. Instinctively, my hand shoots across my chest, covering my modesty. They’re looking straight at me through the window, and it takes everything not to convince myself that this isn’t the same person in the hallway or the one on the stairs. Whoever they are, they have the same black hoodie, the same weathered mask, down to the black leather gloves that Wes is wearing.

It’s unsettling, yet the thrill of someone watching turns me on more than I care to admit.

“Eyes on me, dead girl,” Wes clips. Reluctantly, I turn to face him, trying my hardest to redirect my focus. “Get over here. I want to see you crawl.”

Heart racing, I take a breath, too freaked out to return my gaze to the window, but too curious to ignore it. Wes knows fear turns me on, he knows my preferences, my hard and soft limits, and I’ve mentioned that I’m open to being shared.

I’m perfectly safe.

Steeling myself, I look again, but there’s nobody there. Now, I’m left wondering if I’m hallucinating, or if Wes is just that good at messing with me.

4

“Get over here,” Wes repeats, his tone commanding. “Crawl to me, dead girl.”

I drop to all fours and crawl across the cold surface toward him. As I make my way up his legs, I lay my palms against his shins and rise to my knees. My fingers swiftly work on his buckle. He stands, adjusting his jeans just enough to free his cock from his black briefs.

Fuck. Is there anything about this man that isn’t perfect?

I bite my lip, savouring the sight of his swollen head, his shaft adorned with thick, bluish-green veins, and the drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip, begging to be licked.

Bold, colourful tattoos cover the tops of his thick, muscular thighs, extending down to where they hide beneath the black denim. Dragging my nails lightly across the ink, I lick my lips and waste no time wrapping my mouth around him, drawing a groan from him.

My hands press into his thighs as I suck the tip with fervour, flicking the head with my tongue. Then I take him deeper intomy mouth, zoning into his noises and the way his chest rises and falls for pacing cues. He tastes like dick should taste, like sweat and skin, and a distinct muskiness that has me salivating. It gets me instantly wet. Sliding my tongue around his shaft, I moan as he eases into my mouth inch by inch.

“Mm, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he says as I experimentally work my mouth around him, sliding my tongue along the underside of his shaft. I slowly take him to the back of my throat, pulling back repeatedly, building momentum before popping off, a trail of saliva connecting my mouth to his cock.

I spit again, deliberate and rough, as I fist his length, stroking him with my hand while I suck on his tight balls, circling them with my tongue.

“Fuck, Tatum,” he hisses. “Such a good little slut for me.”

My stomach somersaults as warmth gathers between my legs, his praise driving me to give him the best head of his life. My only goal right now is to make him feel incredible.

He pulls out my phone again. I freeze, popping off while keeping one hand wrapped around his length and the other on his thigh. “Let’s make a movie, dead girl. Be my star,” he says, his voice low and compelling. “I won’t show your face,” he reassures me as his finger swipes the screen. “Don’t worry, baby. I promise I won’t.”

I’m not entirely sure how he’ll keep my face out of the shot, but his offer is so enticing that I find it hard to refuse. I nod quietly, accepting his request, and dip my head between his thighs. I flick my tongue over his slit, savouring the beads of pre-cum, before sliding him deeper into my throat.

“Fuck, Tatum," he hisses. "Your mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock.”

The noises this man makes should be illegal. Throaty, guttural, and saturated with so much lust that all my focus is on bobbingmy head up and down his dick, wringing out those sounds again and again until he's dripping down my chin.

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