Page 17 of Cunning Lies
She angles her head to look at me, and I grab a pillow and slip it under her head. Tension swims in her eyes at the gesture, but then her focus gravitates to my cock, the bulge growing in my pants. She averts her eyes to the ceiling again as if she’s going to get in trouble for looking at my dick.
“You like what you see?” I chuckle. “Touch yourself. Show me how much you like it.”
She cups her pussy like her hand is underwear, but she doesn’t move. Her neck is red, her baggy shirt still covering her breasts, but those nipples are erect, pushing against the fabric of her shirt. I rub a hand over my pants, my hard length twitching in my hand.
“You’ve never touched yourself before?” I ask.
She meets my eyes and bites her lips. “What do you want me to do?”
For a second, I lift her hand so I can see her: a drop of need pools at her seam, dripping down to her dark hole. I lick my lips—god, I wish I could taste her right now—but this is a game. I want to mess with her. To test her limits. To see if she really is an innocent little angel. To see how far it takes to make her run, or if she’s already too deep to leave.
But with her pussy dripping like that, soaking the bed sheets, it takes all of my strength to stay in place, inspecting her. I move her hand back, letting her cup her pussy once again.
“You like being watched, Vi?” I ask. “That’s why you didn’t stop me at the gala. Your pussy is wet already and I haven’t even touched you.” Though she keeps her on the ceiling, her pupils dilate. She likes when I talk dirty to her then. “Do you see how hard my dick is, just looking at you? A shirt on. Your pussy covered by your hand. Do you know what I want to do to you right now?”
At those words, her fingers twitch, the friction rubbing against her clit.
“Go on,” I murmur. I kneel again so that I’m closer to her. I whisper in her ear, “That’s it, baby.”
A panting breath shudders through her, and she startles, placing her hands at her sides. My dick is hard as hell, pre-cum staining my pants. I’m not supposed to touch her right now. This is a game. A little trick to see that ‘virgin’ come undone.
But I can’t hold back. Iwanta little touch.
I grab her hand. Her skin is cold, her hands trembling, but I guide her until the tips of her fingers are resting on that beaded clit. A small gasp escapes her, and her eyes lock on mine. Blue. So fucking blue. Like a damn iceberg. I move her hand back and forth, making her tease her own clit.
“Just like that,” I say. “In circles. You feel how wet your pussy is?” Her fingers slip down into her slit, but then she’s back to her clit again, using her own lubrication to play with herself. A groan erupts from my chest, but my eyes never leave hers. Her bottom lip quivers, and though she’s stunned by my presence, there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s touched herself before. A complete virgin would move with a raw frenzy, but my future wife has practice in these movements. She knows what she likes. She may be a virgin in some ways, but she’s still a dirty bitch who gets off on being watched.
And thatthrillsme.
“Good girl,” I murmur, and a small whimper travels past her lips. She spreads her legs wider, her fingers grinding harder.
I’m tempted to rub my dick through my pants, but I keep focus and she squirms. Her blue eyes. Her quivering lips. The light sheen of sweat building at her temples. She’s nearing that abyss and I want to see her drown in it, but I also want to hold on to that moment. To save that first expression of absolute pleasure for when my dick is deep inside of her.
“That’s enough,” I say. I’m not sure if it’s to myself or to her, but I move her hands to the sides, then I head to the front door.
Her eyes dart around frantically. “That’s it?” She sits up, gawking at me. “We’re done?”
“It’s late,” I say, glancing at my watch. “I just needed to make sure.”
“Make sure of what?”
“That you know what your future will be like.”
Your final warning, sweet wife.
She squints her eyes. “Why do you keep saying stuff like that?”
“You should’ve run. You shouldn’t have indulged me or your uncle in this marriage, and you shouldn’t have let me take you to our resort so you can have your own room.” I lean on the doorframe. Her shirt pools between her legs, her nipples pebbled through her shirt. “But part of youwantsto see what it’s like to be mine,” I say. “I’m going to warn you, once again, that if you don’t leave by the morning, you’ll be mine. Forever.”
‘Forever’ hangs in the air like a ringing church bell. I want her to embrace that coldness, to know that she’s not as powerless as she thinks she is. She can run. She can hide somewhere. She doesn’t have to be with me.
“Goodnight, Vi,” I say. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She doesn’t say a word. The door closes behind me, and I exit the Samurai Castle.
CHAPTER7
VI
