Page 40 of Mayfly

Whipping around to him, I’m met with the gun pointing right between my eyes.

“Get in the closet,” he orders, and when I don’t move, he presses the barrel against my forehead. “I don’t think you understand what I’m capable of doing.”

He drags the gun down my face to my slightly parted lips, then pressure forces them to open further. The black polymer clinks against my teeth. The barrel is heavy on my tongue. And the tip is sharp against the back of my throat.

“What's it gonna be, Jude?”

I have to force my arms to stay by my side and repress all my years of training.

“Are you gonna do as I say, or do you want me to use the gun in a way youreallywon’t like?”

Slow as I can, I raise my hands in surrender.

Tilting his head to the side, Curren grins, slides the gun from my mouth, and turns me away from him.

“Go.” He jabs the barrel between my shoulder blades, and it never breaks contact until I’m stepping into the large double wardrobe by the king bed.

I expect Curren to just stand beside me, but after pulling the door closed, he slams my chest against the side wall. My back curves as I'm forced against it, and with my cheek squished against the wood, I can just see out through the tilted slats.

With one hand on the back of my neck holding me in place, Curren draws the gun the whole way down my spine and between my legs until it’s resting against my balls. “If you make a sound. I’ll shoot her.”

We don’t hear the door open, but as soon as the room service cart rattles, the pressure is gone. “You gonna behave?” Curren whispers, then bites my earlobe harder than should feel good.

I nod. And when he releases my ear, I catch him reaching up to sit my pistol on the shelf above us. But before I can even think about moving, his hand is already over my mouth.

“We both know I’m faster than you are… So don’t try anything.”

I nod as much as I can, but his fingers dig painfully into my cheeks.

Then his hand shifts to pinch my nose as well—completely suffocating me.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you both… The only thing keeping her alive right now is how badly I wanna fuck you.”

“Mr. Clarke?”

My eyes struggle to focus on the waitress as she tentatively looks towards the bathroom.

“I’m not sure where you wanted me to set up, so I’ll just go ahead and leave you the trolley.”

“You can go now.”

The waitress’s head whips towards the closet when Curren answers for me. Her eyes squint, and she takes one step towards us but thinks better of it and runs out of the room, almost slamming the door behind her.

Curren uncovers my mouth, and I swallow air like a drowning fish.

All I can see are silver spots in the dark.

I try to push off the wardrobe wall, but as I open my mouth to speak, he shoves one of his gloves inside it and grips the back of my neck. “Do that again and you’ll know about it.”

I mumble around his glove. I need to tell him to stop. But the wardrobe door is knocked open by Curren’s elbow as he pulls back to punch me in the kidney.

My back hunches in pain, my hands slide down the wood, and I feel precum dripping from my dick to my bare feet.

His bare nails scratch at my hip and he pulls my ass back further than it was before.

I hear him spit in his hand.

I feel him slap it against me.

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