Page 84 of Stealing His Cupcake
“You…love me?” My mind reels, stuck on those words. How could she love me? “I kidnapped you.” My mind might be confused, but my body is not. My cock, now completely erect, jerks against Amy’s ass and I’m sure she can feel it even through her pants.
Resting the blade against my throat, right over my carotid artery, Amy shakes her head. “I was fine with the kidnapping. I accepted it. I accepted everything, Wyatt. Everything about you, about what you do, about our lives. But I won’t accept this.”
“Wh— Argh!” A scream tears from me as Amy buries the blade in the flesh below my right collarbone. She cuts deep, leaving a gash at least three inches long. Blood wells and I feel it trickle down my side, the alcohol she’d poured over me earlier stinging in the wound until the blood washes it away. “Fuck,” I groan as she adds another cut near the first one.
“I brought a gag,” Amy notes absently, fully focused on slicing across the first two cuts. “And duct tape. If you can’t keep quiet, I will use one. Or both.”
Gritting my teeth, I hold back a cry. It fucking hurts, but I guess I deserve it. Fuck, who am I kidding? I definitely deserve this and worse. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I say between pained grunts as Amy keeps carving into my chest. “I just wanted you to be safe and happy.”
“Happy?!” This time, I do cry out as she slashes deeper and the blade skirts across bone. “Happy?” Amy repeats. She still sounds furious but is more careful with the next cut. “I was happy with you, Wyatt, and you took that away from me. You left me. You fucking left me!”
Another deep slash. They’re definitely not random, but form shapes. Letters, maybe? It’s hard to tell without seeing the whole picture, but it feels like Amy is carving words into my chest. “You’re so damn hot,” I groan deliriously, my cock still very much on board despite the pain.
Amy slaps me again, her palm wet with blood. “Is that what this was about? You left because we didn’t have sex for a few weeks? You were recovering from a fucking surgery, you idiot!”
“What? No! It wasn’t about that at all!” Jesus, does she think I abandoned her because of that? “I’m just pointing out that you look incredibly sexy right now.” It’s probably not the smartest thing to say, but she doesn’t slap me this time, just goes back to cutting me.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” Amy grumbles. “I’m mad at you.”
I can tell she doesn’t really mean it, but the pain underlining the words hits me worse than her anger would. Worse than the blade she keeps dragging over my chest. “Rightfully so. I never meant to hurt you, Amy, I swear. I just thought you’d be happier with someone…normal. Someone who wouldn’t have to change just to fit into your world, to be worthy of you. Someone who didn’t almost get you killed.” The shot that nearly killed her rings in my ears once again, the surprised look on her face as it collided with her chest flashing in front of my eyes. “You almost died.”
“It was not your fault, Wyatt, and I didn’t fucking die, so will you stop bringing it up? And please, don’t tell me you actually want me to be with someone else? You, who pretty much went on a rampage the second someone looked at me! I don’t believe that for a second.” Her voice breaks, betraying the fact that she does believe it, and it lances through my heart.
“Amy…” I sigh, then gasp as she makes another cut. “Oh, fuck. Okay, yeah, I deserve that. Of course I don’t fucking want you to be with someone else. Why do you think I’ve been drinking myself unconscious? I just thought I’d do the right fucking thing for once and let you go.”
Scoffing, Amy cuts in a curved motion, almost like she’s forming the letter U. “You’re a killer, Wyatt. Get off your fucking high horse. It’s dead. When did I ever give you the impression that you had to change to be with me? I don’t mind that you kill people for a living. What I do mind is you making stupid decisions thinking you know what’s best for me.” With a corner of a blanket, she soaks up some of the blood pooling on my chest, then picks up the knife again. “You know, the problem with building up a girl’s self-confidence is that you get a self-confident woman. Really, you only have yourself to blame for this.”
“I love your confidence,” I groan. “Take off your shirt, Amy. Please.” My chest throbs and bleeds, but my cock doesn’t care, standing hard and proud and damn eager to sink into Amy’s pussy. Not that it’s likely to happen. Actually, my beautifully terrifying cupcake seems more likely to cut my cock off than ride it. Not even that thought is enough to kill my erection.
“Hmm.” Considering my request, Amy taps the bloodied knife against her lips and fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. “Fine. But I’m only saying yes because you’re tied up and don’t get to touch me. You don’t deserve to touch me.” She takes off not only her shirt, but all of her clothes, straddling me naked, and I just know that my cock is never going down. As it brushes against her ass, I moan, then choke on the sound as Amy digs the knife into my flesh once more. She’s nothing if not determined.
Looking down at her work, she purses her lips. “Almost done.”
Fear lodges in my stomach like a block of ice. What happens when she’s done? I’m not afraid she’d kill me. I mean, as worked up as she is, she just might, but that wouldn’t really bother me. What terrifies me is the thought of her leaving. I don’t know what letters she’s carved into my flesh, but what if they spell “fuck you, Wyatt”? What if she finishes and then simply leaves? I wanted to stay away from her, but now that she’s here, I realize I can never live without her. I won’t survive it if she leaves now and— Fuck, is that how she felt when I left her? God, I’m such an idiot!
“I’m sorry.” It’s not the pain making me whimper. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Chapter 60
Amy
Thebladestillsitsjourney through Wyatt’s skin as I look at him incredulously. “‘Don’t leave me’?” I repeat, my tone sharp. “Are you kidding me? What a hypocritical asshole you are! You didn’t even give me a chance to beg you not to leave and now you’re whimpering like a fucking idiot after I’ve literally hunted you down across half a state?! Why the hell would I come after you if I wanted to leave you again?”
Wiping a tear on his outstretched arm, Wyatt shrugs, then winces in pain as the motion tugs on the cuts I’ve made. “Revenge?”
“Hmm.” Okay, yes, he has a fair point and I’m a little tempted to mess with him that way, except I’ve already cut him repeatedly and there’s a part of me screaming what the hell am I doing, hurting the man I love? A bigger part of me, however, is completely out of control, and it thrives on seeing Wyatt in pain, because he hurt me and he fucking deserves it. I’ve also been cursing a lot without stuttering even once, and I found out that I actually like being able to say fuck, so I’m happy to let that crazy, unhinged part of me lead for now. After all, if I left old Amy in charge, I’d still probably be weeping inconsolably in the doorway. Crazy Amy got usto Wyatt and exacted revenge while making sure he will always remember who he belongs to from now on. Crazy Amy rocks.
“Please, cupcake.” Wyatt groans as I finish the last letter. “I never should have left. I’ll do anything if you take me back.”
“Hell yes, you will,” I murmur, using my shirt to dry out the blood since it’s already splattered all over it, then lean back to examine my handiwork. It’s horrifying, really, but legible, which was the point. I should have grabbed more disinfectant, but it will wait until we’re back home. First, though, we have to set up some ground rules. Then, maybe sex, because I’m incredibly aroused right now and Wyatt’s cock, surprisingly hard given the circumstances, rubbing against my ass isn’t helping things.
I scowl at Wyatt’s puppy dog eyes. “Stop that. I was always going to take you back. That’s why I came here, after all. You see, you said that I was yours, forever, but then you went back on your word.” Wyatt opens his mouth to say something, but a single glare effectively shuts him up. “Honestly, if you’re no longer obsessed with me, that’s your problem, not mine. However, you also said that you were mine, and I won’t allow any take backs on that. You belong to me, Wyatt Archer. You can file for a million divorces, but you will never stop being my husband. You made me confident enough to go after what I want and what I want is you. You will never get away from me and if you try again, you will be the one who ends up chained to our bed. Is that clear?”
Wyatt gawks at me in silent awe, then the corners of his mouth curl up. “Are you…kidnapping me?”
“You bet your balls I am. You see this?” I wave my hand in front of his face so that he can see the ring. “I’m your damned wife, you idiot. I don’t care why you didn’t give this to me, but I’m keeping it.” It’s a lie. I very much care why he never gave me the ring, but I won’t ask because I’m too afraid of the answer.
Wyatt probably senses my inner turmoil because his expression softens. “Amy, I never gave you the ring because I wanted to earn your ‘yes’ first. I didn’t want you to say it because I commanded it like with the wedding.It’s just… The more I got to know you, the less I hoped you could ever love me after what I’ve done to you. You’re such a pure soul that—”
