Page 23 of Panic-Button
Popping her lip out of my mouth, I ran my tongue up the side of her face and crawled over her prone form.
“Should I fuck you now?” I whispered in her ear while sliding my hand down her side and under her shirt. “Or wait until you can look at me?”
Marnie’s eyes fluttered under her closed lids as her face screwed up. Somewhere in her drug-hazed mind, she knew what was coming. She’d known for a long time, and I was done waiting.
I swept my finger along the underside of her breast and bit down on her neck. The small whimper she released in response shot straight down to my dick.
“Feel that, Little Bird. That’s the first of many marks I will give you.”
And what a good mark it was. Bright and red, not enough to draw blood, but enough that she would feel it every time she twisted her neck. She’d feel me.
I pushed myself up and looked down at her outfit. The same outfit she wore for that fucking asshole was now covered in his blood. Served him right. Motherfucker thought he could touch what belonged to me, and Marnie let him.
My eyes snapped back up to her face as my hand wrapped around her chin. “You’ve been a bad girl, Marnie.”
Her brows once again knit as my fingers dug into her flesh. She didn’t like that. Good. I didn’t like the way she held that guy’s hand.
If I could, I’d kill that asshole all over again. I might still kill her. That would all depend on just how much she let him touch.
Only one way to find out.
My knife popped open before I took my next breath. Her shirt was the first to go, followed by her jeans. My fury increased with every slice and tear of the fabric until nothing was left but scraps. Marnie wouldn’t be wearing that shit ever again.
If she wanted to dress up, that was fine, but she could wear clothes she put on for me. Though I did have to admit, I enjoyed the underwear. They were a simple pair of blue cotton boyshorts and a matching bra. Nothing like what her sister would wear, but a sensible set that didn’t show off parts of her body meant for my eyes only.
The most delectable quiver raced across her stomach as I slid my palm over her skin. How many nights had I jerked off to this very image? Sometimes it was so real I could almost taste her on the tip of my tongue. And now, I had my hands on the prize, the soft, supple, and tempting prize.
My mouth was practically watering by the time I slipped my hand under the waistband of her panties. So long as no one else had seen what was under here, I could forgive Marnie’s infraction. We’d call it a lapse in judgment and move on.
The hardest thing I’d ever had to do was to deny the urge to slam my cock inside her. But I did it. I gritted my teeth and pushed my finger into her warm, wet walls. Almost immediately, I was met with resistance that made my anger melt away.
She was still untouched.
“Good girl.” I breathed out, sliding my hand out of her panties and sucking my finger into my mouth.
Satisfaction filled my chest as her flavor hit my tongue. There was no other cock in that sweetness, just her and me. My dick begged to claim her, and I was tempted to give in.
But when I looked down at her face, I knew I wanted more. I wanted to feel her fight, then watch defeat spark in her eyes when I tore through her virginity. Sure, I could fuck her now, but then she’d have no memory of what it felt like to be conquered. And that would be a shame.
I sat up and let out a breath.
“I suppose I should clean you up.” Her clothes were gone, but there was still a fair amount of blood. “Wouldn’t be much fun if you passed out on me again, now would it, Little Bird?”
Besides, cleaning her up would give me something else to focus on other than how she looked lying there, all vulnerable and tempting.
So, I set to work.
I got a cloth, and a warm bowl of water from the bathroom, then began wiping her skin clean. It was cathartic in a way. Every streak and speck I washed away erased a little more of that asshole. Once his taint no longer stained her skin, it would be almost as if he never existed. Marnie would be my pure and clean Little Bird again.
That was until I rolled her over.
All my anger came crashing back in a tidal wave of marks that scared her flesh.
They were all over Marnie’s back. Crooked lines and slashes. Some were so old they’d faded with age.
I gritted my teeth and pulled my thumb along one of the jagged white lines marring her complexion. Someone whipped her. My guess was with a belt with a cross on the buckle. There was only one person I knew with a belt like that. The mark on her lower back was unmistakable.
I knew exactly who my Little Bird’s next kill would be.
