Page 35 of Lies like Rubies, Part One

Dante hummed. “Close your eyes. Filthy cock sleeves aren’t allowed to see what happens to them next.”

I obeyed him, not wanting to repeat the humiliating experience of being spanked.

“Better yet…” he trailed off. A cool breeze floated over me as he stepped away. He wrapped something around my face, soft and silky. “As much as I would love to punish you for opening your eyes before I gave you permission, I think this will heighten the experience more.”

He’d blindfolded me.

He traced his fingers down my neck, my shoulders, my arms, and then wrenched my arms behind me, looping the same silky material around my wrists.

“I will expect you to obey me without question in the future, but for now, I like you like this, bound and helpless.” He kicked my feet further apart. “Now, I’m going to use you like the dirty receptacle you are. And you’re going to enjoy it, you filthy slut.”

He reached his fingers between my legs to gather the evidence of my unwilling desire, then circled my clit, drawing a gasp out of me despite my determination to lie there and take whatever he dished out without giving him the satisfaction of a response.

When he paused a finger at my soaked entrance, I jerked away. He smacked my bottom hard enough I cried out. “None of that, slut. You saidanything, and I intend to hold you to it.”

He plunged a finger inside of me, hard and rough. I bit my lip back to conceal a whine of pain, but as he pumped in and out of me, I found it even harder to conceal my moans of pleasure.

“Don’t hold back on my account,” he said, laughing, as my hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction, more pressure, anything to relieve the ache he was building in my core.

When his fingers left me, I swallowed a whimper, loathe to give him any sign that I liked the way he touched me, that his horrific treatment turned me on. The sound of a foil packet ripping filled me with relief. Even monsters used condoms.

The heat of his cock burned a hot path into my skin as he drew it up and down my folds. This time, I couldn’t hold back my whine of pleasure as he teased my clit with it. It was so fucking unfair that he was so good at playing with my body, eliciting pleasure, more than any partner I’d had before.Asshole.

He wrapped his hands around my hips, holding me still so he could notch his tip into my entrance. Slowly, he slid inside and worked himself in and out of me. “Fuck, Sofia, you’re so goddamned tight.”

Tight because I didn’t get a lot of action these days. Tight because when I did get it, it sucked. Tight because—oh fuck! He hit a spot that made me see stars. I moaned an intense animal sound from deep within me.

“Slut, you love this,” he said wonderingly.

His smug satisfaction was a cold dash of water over my need. God, men and their egos. I might be willing to do anything for my daughter, but I was damned if he’d make me enjoy being treated like nothing more than a warm and waiting sleeve for his dick.

Men were all the same. He wanted to know that he’d conquered me, that he’d made me climax despite myself, that he’d won this battle and forced me to submit. Convincing him he’d done so, that he’d satisfied me completely and utterly, would be the quickest way to end this farce.

I’d been faking orgasms for men since I lost my virginity at sixteen. I moaned again, loudly, breathily, as he moved in and out, speeding my breath up and letting it out in little gasps. “God, yes,” I forced myself to cry out. As he plunged into me, I relaxed. One more moment, and I’d be able to believably fake it.

He tightened his fingers on my hips and snapped into me. I clenched around him, crying out, “Dante!” and tightened my muscles before dropping into the bed in a puddle of false satiation.

He hummed and ran his fingers over my bottom, soothing the aching sting from my earlier spanking, then pulled out. When he yanked me up to by my hair, I cried out with pain, tears leaking out of my eyes despite myself.

“Did you just fake an orgasm, Sofia Russo?” he asked, his breath hot against my cheek as he pressed his torso against my arms, bound behind my back.

“Of course not,” I breathed, terrified he’d seen right through me.

He pulled my hair harder, then wrapped his long fingers around my throat.

“I have very little patience for liars, you stupid slut.” He tightened his grip, cutting off my air supply one breath at a time. “I asked you a question, and I expect you to tell me the truth.” I couldn’t even nod my head, so tight was his hold on my throat. “Did you fake your orgasm?”

“Yes,” I wheezed.

“Why?”

I struggled to breathe, gasping around his hand as he pressed backward, arching my back obscenely.

“Please,” I gasped out. “Let me breathe.”

He didn’t change his grip. “Why did you fake it, Sofia?”

Somehow it was so much worse when he used my given name instead of calling me a slut, as if I’d disappointed him. Why did I want to please this brutal, dangerous man who wanted my tears in exchange for protecting my daughter? What was wrong with me?

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