Page 175 of Piggy

“Go on. Have your fun. you persistent thing,” he says.

My eyes widen, but I hurry, shaking as I loop the second rope, tightening it into a slip knot. His hands are bound.

Isqueal, overwhelmed with power, heat flooding between my legs. “On your knees.”

He glares, but obeys.

I turn on my music. Rosenfeld,Do it for Me. The song fills the room, deep, seductive, filthy.

Take off your clothes

Give me your trust

Look me in the eyes and confess your lust

Get on your knees

Beg me to stop

I promise I’ll love you if you do it

So do it for me

Perfect.

I grab the knife. Slide a leg over his shoulder. Grab his jaw. “Eat.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

His mouth claims me, tongue thick and warm, lips pulling my clit into a slow, torturous rhythm.

“Try harder, Betty Pig,” he rumbles into my pussy, lips slick with my arousal. “This isn’t a punishment for me.”

Fine. I ride him harder. Grind. Pull his hair.

I slap his face. Hard.

Way too hard.

He blinks, then slowly, he rises to his feet like a tower erupting from the earth. His shadow casts over me.

I cower instinctively.

“Sorry,” I squeak, the red handprint already raising on his cheek.

He steps closer, and I back up. His finger presses to my chest and pushes. I tumble backwards onto the couch, legs open, heart pounding.

“I’m yours,” I whisper, sweet and hopeful.

And terrified.

“You are.” His voice is quiet and cruel. “But why do you want to be likeme?”

I shrug, lips trembling. “I don’t know. I wanted to own you. Even if just for a minute. Even if it was fake.”

His mouth crashes down on mine, rough and devouring. His body pushes between my thighs.

And then—

---