Page 54 of Little Stranger

I mean, I want to say that to her, but I have no idea how.

Instead, while she chews on the sandwich, I lower my free hand to her cunt, gliding my fingers through the wetness there. Always so wet. Fear always turns her on. And pain. I know between her legs and her back hole must be sore, and her jaw probably is too from how harshly I fucked her mouth.

She whimpers around the sandwich as I slip a finger inside her.

It’s been around ten hours since we left the festival. I already sent messages to her friends to say she went home with her biker friend and that she’d reach out soon. I also saw an opened email from Mom with details for her first date with Xander.

My dear sister should be meeting her future husband tomorrow, but it’s a shame she’ll be sucking her brother’s dick instead.

I add another finger, and she tenses everywhere. “Hmm,” I hum, forcing the rest of the food into her mouth to gag her then slowly unclipping the front of her corset. Each clip makes her tits spill out the top, and when I get enough of them undone, she’s writhing in the chains, trying to rock her hips into my hand, while I pinch her nipple.

I twist it, and she screams around the sandwich, spitting it out and gasping, “Please. Please.”

I pull my fingers out of her and walk towards the small table, lifting a knife next to the plate, and I twirl it in my hand as I turn to her. She’s crying again, her pussy soaking her thighs, and I smirk under my mask, blood rushing to my dick.

I walk behind her, and she fights against the chains to watch me, to see what I’m doing, but she’s trapped. I clench my jaw to stop myself from severely hurting her, causing her more pain than she can handle, as I cut the rest of her corset off then press the point of the blade to her spine.

She trembles in only her skirt, the pathetic scrap of material easily ripped off with my hands and thrown aside too.

Her naked body has always been my heaven. Somewhere I don’t belong, somewhere I shouldn’t taint or cut, but as I walk round her and bring the sharp edge of the blade to her nipple, I slice carefully, making her stiffen everywhere as a trickle of blood slides down her stomach. I do the same to the other, and she moans in both pain and pleasure.

Her eyes land on me. “Take your mask off.”

I shake my head, even though a shock of anxiety hits me. If she finds out it’s me, what would she do? I’m having too much fun right now to ruin my hidden identity.

“If you take it off, I’ll suck your dick.”

I frown and stop walking around her. “What?”

My voice is deeper—a warning tone I’ve never heard from myself before.

She has no idea who I am, and she just offered to blow me in exchange for me taking off my mask. I clasp her chin in a firm hold, bringing the knife to her throat and pressing the sharp edge to her pulse. I want to slice it open, deep and gaping, to see her blood spill down her body. But I also want to kiss her, goddammit.

“I have a brother,” she says, her eyes watering. “If you hurt me, he’ll find you.”

“Yeah?” The thrill going through me right now is fucking ecstatic. She just threatened me with myself—she thinks I’ll save her.

My gaze drops to the locket sitting between her breasts, and she gasps as I snap it from her neck. “No!”

I open it, staring at the picture of our younger selves, shoving it in her face. “Him?”

“Y-Yes,” she cries. “Please don’t break it.Please.”

“You love him?” My pronunciation stays firm.

“He’s my brother,” she replies, her bottom lip trembling. “Of course I love him.”

I laugh—really fucking laugh, in a way I’ve never done before. My laughter is usually silent, a shake of my body while I smile, but this time it’s loud, my head thrown back, a genuine grin on my face.

This fucking…

How can she say she loves me after destroying what we had?

I grip my mask and pull it off, and her face falls when she sees the balaclava. “A deal…” I stop, my tone already fucking up. “Is… a deal.”

She watches me throw the gas mask aside, and I walk to the wall all the chains are connected to and loosen the ones on her wrists and collar, making her drop to her knees, her legs still parted wide from the spreader.

Her hair, if I wasn’t wearing fucking gloves, would be so soft in my hold. I grip it while I stand in front of her.

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