Page 17 of Crawl
“I want you to fuck me like you hate me,” I blurt out, and his finger freezes above the mouse. I nod eagerly, showing him that I’m ready to play. I have to do this. If I let him control the situation just enough, then it’ll be easier to get him under my thumb too.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“I want you to choke me until I pass out,” I say. My face is red, and everything in my body is filling with heat. I’ve never expressed my desires so plainly before. A lump is forming in my throat and soon, I won’t be able to breathe. But his eyes are completely enraptured with me, and those worries melt away. He’s truly listening. “I want you to make me come so hard I forget who I am. To slap me and beat me and use me and show me what a whore I am for you.”
He pinches my nipple, using it to pull me closer, then forces me over his lap like he’s about to spank me like a child.He did this to Jenna.Spanked her for being late for a meeting. It’s degrading and I hate it, but I like it too. Why am I so lightheaded? He rips down my leggings and pants until I’m completely exposed, and I know then that this is different. He never exposed Jenna like this. Leaning down, he sniffs me, and I blush—I’m ripe as hell—and a groan erupts from his chest like he’s a beast unleashed. He pulls my ass cheeks apart, exposing my dark hole. The cool air tickles my skin and my whole body tingles.
“Why do you want that?” he asks.
“Because—” I start, but I don’t know why. Why him? Why this?Why can’t I be normal?“Because—”
“Because you can’t help it, can you?” he breathes, his voice low and calm, like he’s teaching me why. “You want me to take what I want. To own you. To show you that you’re nothing but my little fuck doll. How badly do you want it?”
His fingertips are like sandpaper, but when he dips one between my folds, I’m so wet that his thick finger glides right through. Using my arousal, he teases my dark hole with his finger, then forces a finger inside. The pressure fills me and I gasp for air, completely stunned. It’s as if in that single movement, he’s telling me the truth: he doesn’t care what I want.
And that turns me on so much.
“Use me,” I whine, “All of my holes.Please.”
“I’m going to use you now, Remedy. Just like I want. All of your holes are mine, little cure.Mine,” he growls, then he impales me with his entire finger, forcing it inside of my ass, biting my neck at the same time, and I cry out, my moan so loud that I try to stop, try to suck it back inside, but he laughs and finger-fucks my ass. I buck my hips forward, humping his leg, wanting more,so much more,my clit bumping up against him. With one hand, he holds my neck like he’s examining a fawn for slaughter, and with his other hand, he fucks my dark hole. Another finger slides inside my ass, filling me up, and my clit rubs against his leg—the sensations so intense that I’m close to the abyss, and I hate it but I love it and I try so hard not to think about what it means. I have to remember who he is. That I hate him. That Cash stands for everything I hate about people like my stepdad and my stepbrother, and so I have to stay strong.
But his fingers slide in and out of my ass, and I lose those thoughts. His thigh muscles twitch, his cock so hard it’s like a rock each time my body pushes against it. His fingers tickle my ass, a light pain mixed with pressure. The tingling sensation runs through my nervous system until it stimulates my neck and cheeks. I can’t stay strong anymore. Cash is holding me over the edge, and I pant, trying to stop the pleasure, but I’ve never done this with anyone before, not even myself. It’s overwhelming me, pushing me to the brink. My face heats, my jaw dropping, and those involuntary spasms mount inside of me—
He instantly removes his hands, reclining in his chair, then laughs. I stumble forward, resting against him, my body covered in sweat. With one quick movement, he helps me stand. Once I’m steady, he exits the message, then switches to another program on his computer.
Like he didn’t just shove out of his pleasurable hell.
Like nothing happened.
My pussy aches. Each twitch of my muscles begs for his touch, but he ignores me, completely focused on work.
He’s done with me.
“That’s it?” I ask.
He motions toward the door. “There’s a general contractor I need you to meet at the shopping center in Waterside Park.”
I blink, then check the time. It’s almost two a.m.
“What for?” I ask.
“An important delivery. He’ll be there at six a.m.”
My jaw drops. He’s serious. Itisover. His expression is completely stoic, his hands typing rapidly, and I have to accept it. He finger-fucked my ass and denied my pleasure to screw with me.
I roll my eyes, then angle toward the door.
“Take my car,” he says. He tosses me his keys. “It’ll be faster.”
“If it’s so important, why leave it to me?”
He finally meets my eyes for the first time since his hands left my body. His smooth lips turn up, and I can read it in his expression: he knows exactly what he’s doing, how frustrated I am, how much I hate that I want more. And he’s relishing it.
“Because I toldyouto do it, Remedy,” he says. “Part of your job description includes going to meetings for me.Learn your place.”
Those words stick out to me. He admitted something, didn’t he?
He wants me to ‘learn my place’ because I’m not staying in my lane. I’m not doing exactly what he wants. I don’t know what it is, but I get this feeling like I frustrate him as much as he frustrates me. And this—making me leave, giving me an order—is a reminder tobothof us of our positions.
