Page 14 of Game of Hell
I slowly lick up her pussy. I could do this every hour of the day. Feast on this sweet little pussy until it's the only taste I remember. I bite down on her clit and she screams. Her back arches off the bed and tears soak her cheeks.
“This is so fucking wrong.” She whispers. “Ahh.”
Her eyes roll to the back of her head, another orgasm on its way. I pinch one of her nipples between two of my fingers and twirl it. They’d be prettier with piercings.
“Ronan.” She moans and this time I do get up. I lick my fingers clean and look down at her. She sits up, confused and places her arms around her breasts.
“What—did I do something wrong?” She stutters out.
I let the silence carry the moment. My smirk is dark and disturbing as I look over the mess she’s caused on the bed. She looks at me expectantly and her plump lips form a pout.
“No.” I cock my head sideways. “Let's see how long before you beg me for more.” I laugh and she hisses, her lips curling into a sneer.
“I–I.” She's at a loss for words as I walk away from her. I grab my mask I had thrown on the floor and place it back on.
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CHAPTER NINE
Ember
“I gave away easily, even dressed in defiance.”
Stupid.
So fucking stupid. I rush to put on my bodysuit. The side of it is ripped because of how aggressive he yanked it off.
Once the fabric is over my body I ignore his stare and rush over to the bathroom. I want to cry, scream, and throw up all in one go. Why would he do that? Deny me when I was so close. It’s so embarrassing and I'd be damned if I begged him to let me finish.
He doesn’t even know my real name and I let him touch me.
I should’ve stopped him, should’ve fought harder, but I didn’t. I wanted it all. I wanted him to put it in. My mind was so dazed, so easy for him to break down and control.
He wanted my submission and I gave him that. I’d give it to him again if he asked. If he touches my body in all the places that ache.
I’m no better than I was in college.
The thought causes a loud hiccup to come up my throat. Tears now leak out of my eyes, not from pleasure but pain.
I look at myself in the cloudy mirror. My features are slightly disoriented but I can see all the dark bruises on my body. The bites, the hickeys from him sucking on my skin, and the mark his hand left on my neck as he crushed my esophagus. I can imagineif I pull my jumpsuit off there would be even more so I don’t look.
I can’t look at what I have done—what he’s done.
I cast my eyes away from the mirror, too ashamed to look any longer. I pee and leave the bathroom after I freshen up. He sits in that damn chair with his mask back on. His eyes are either on me or something in the room.
I feel exhausted, spent beyond measure.
When was the last time I was eaten out? Now that I think about it, never, that was my first time.
I walk over to the bed and plop down.
“Don’t touch me. I’m going to sleep.” I murmur too exhausted to say anything else.
He’s quiet, his breath even. He completely ignores me and leans back into the chair. One arm behind his head and the other hanging off the arm rest.
I look out through the small window, barely seeing past the huge metal poles. It’s got to be close to evening. I can feel a cool breeze blowing from underneath the old window. Cracks and chipped paint run across the seal. The overcast is still as heavy as it was this morning.
“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?” I huff and roll my eyes when I get no response.
