Page 41 of Cunning Lies
I step forward, then I spread her knees so wide that her skirt is completely bunched at the sides of her hips. The tease of fabric like that kills me. She turns away, but it’s an act. I straddle her, pressing my weight into her thighs. Finally, she peers up at me.
“Have you had sex before me?” I ask, making the question so precise that she can’t avoid it. My cock twitches and her eyes glance down, her lips parting in hunger. I pull a thin white rope out of my pocket, pulling it taut between my fists. I’m crafty with torture, and my little wife obviouslylikesbeing choked. She’ll like this, no matter how hard she tries to deny it.
“You really want to test me?” I ask.
A shiver rolls through her, but she keeps her eyes on my bulge, growing thick in my pants. My little slut likes being choked, and it drives me fucking mad.
“All right,” I say.
Standing up, I walk toward the corner of the room, opening a drawer set covered in mirrors too and removing a vibrator. I turn it on, letting it buzz between my fingers; it’s powerful. I hold it to her pussy and she flinches, bucking backward in the chair. I pull her hips forward, making her clit rest on the toy, then I press her thighs together, keeping the vibrator there.
Her eyes follow me until I’m behind her. I point toward the mirrored wall.
“Look at yourself,” I say. “Such a pathetic, greedy little cunt.”
My dick tents my pants as I wrap the white cord around her throat. Dominance sings through me like a power ballad as I probe her reflection. She’s at my mercy, and it thrills us both. I pull the rope snug around her neck; her face blooms into a deep red, blood filling her cheeks, her eyes bulging, and my cock twitches. She humps the vibrator and it rattles along her thighs and the chair, but her eyes are on me. Not on herself.
I let go of the cord and she gasps, air filling her lungs. The vibrator clatters to the ground and a tear rolls down her cheek. Maybe it’s fear. Adrenaline. The need to fucking run.
But this isn’t where Vi leaves me. This is where she commits. I’ve just got to get those words out of her.
“You want to keep playing this game?” I tease. She nods, too intoxicated by the head rush and stimulation to give a verbal answer. My chest tightens. I’m damn ready to fuck her, but this isn’t about my dick; it’s about getting her truth. I put the vibrator back between her legs. “Give me a verbal answer, baby,” I tease. “Are you ready to tell me the truth?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I cinch the cord around my hand until my fingers go numb. “Why did you lie about being a virgin?” I ask.
“Because I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I—”
I flip a switch on the vibrator, increasing the intensity, and she jolts like I’ve sent electricity through her soul. I growl; I’m jealous of the device, but I want this to be about her. About business. About getting what I want out of her. That way, I can figure out what’s going on in that sly little mind.
“Who told you to lie to me?” I ask.
“M-my—” she stutters, then finally, she adds, “My uncle.”
“And why did you lie?”
Hey eyes fall to her lap. Keeping that vibrator on her clit, I press her legs together.
“You let this vibrator drop again, and I’m going to make you wish you hadn’t,” I warn.
Like an obedient little slut, she keeps it pressed between her legs. And I step around, twisting that white cord around her neck again, admiring the red line on her neck. The rope is thin like a clothesline, and I’m sure that’s what most people would use it for. But when I see rope, I want to tangle flesh inside of it. And her freckles are so damn pretty against the rope.
“You like jewelry, baby?” I ask. “You want another red necklace?”
She blinks at her reflection. “I—”
I pull the rope closed around her, cutting off her words. I move myself so that I’m pressed against her body, my dick bobbing into her neck.
“Why did you lie?” I ask again, but there’s only panic drowning in her veins. She can’t speak, even if she wants to—the rope is too tight—and I love that power. She has no choice but to obey me, to give in to every one of my fucked up desires. But even through that pain coursing through her, she keeps her legs forced together. Sweat drips down her face and my dick pulses, seeing her struggle like that. I’ve got a thing for making women panic and whimper, but when I see that expression on Vi, it unlocks something inside of me.
It can only be me.
Even if this doesn’t work out—even if she betrays me and I have to get rid of her—no one will touch her or see those blue eyes like I do right now. I will make sure of it.
