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"You can come after you talk to your friend." Jas pulls his fingers out of me and I moan as he puts them in front of my lips. "Suck, Petal. Suck yourself off me."
Desperately, my lips wrap around his fingers and I look into his eyes as I lick my juices off his hand.
"That's right, you little slut. That's what I want. A broken, desperate girl eager to do anything her owner wants. For one orgasm. Just one. Maybe I'll deny you after. Maybe I won't let you come for a while. For now, you stay nice and dripping for me. Stay right on that edge, right where you're supposed to be.”
I cry out and he presses a finger against my lips, warning me to stay quiet.
"Remember what you promised me, Petal?"
"Y-Y-Yes."
"No coming before I allow it. Now, keep riding that edge for me. Keep fucking doing it, right there, so close you can taste it."
"Please!" I'm starting to sob, my body is so eager for a release. "Please, Jas! Stop fucking torturing me!"
"Never," he smirks. "Just hold it like a good girl. Grit those teeth and take it for me."
I do.
And a part of me hopes he'll never stop this.
That he'll keep me in a perpetual state of almost coming, almost there, so close I can taste the sweet release of an orgasm on the tip of my tongue, but never quite having it full. I want nothing else but to obey him. Submit to him. Be his willing slut.
I hope he never stops fucking with my head.25JasperThe doorbell rings.
My face tightens, but I smile. My little Petal watches me closely, the unknown must be killing her, but she doesn’t want to ask.
“That’s your nurse,” I say as I lead her from the bedroom to the small dining room at the edge of the kitchen.
“He’s not my nurse,” she murmurs.
“But he brought you help.” My arm wraps around her waist, keeping her caged in place to my side. “He’s your knight in shining armor, Petal.”
She stares up at me. “At least someone is.”
My hold tightens around her. “Don’t fucking test me.”
She obviously wants to say something but keeps her mouth shut. All the hickeys and her sore cunt are evidence of what I can do to her. She does enjoy it, but she’s passed the line of exhaustion now.
“Sit down,” I motion at the table as the doorbell rings again.
“Are you going to do something to Bill?”
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t want you hurting people just because you can, Jasper. That’s wrong.”
“Newsflash, Pet, if you’re looking for right you won’t find it in me. Now, sit the fuck down.”
“Jerk,” she mutters under her breath but heads to the chair.
The moment she sits, I crouch beside her and turn the seat so she’s facing me. She’s wearing nothing under her long robe, and I did that on purpose.
“What are you doing—”
Her words cut off when I bring something from my pocket and shove my hand between her legs.
The gray of her eyes darkens with her arousal. “Don’t, don’t…” she chants in a small, helpless voice.
I don’t, not until I make sure the object is lodged tightly against her cunt.
“Be a good girl and I might not torture you for long.” I stand up and push her chair back against the table. “Act normal and don’t fucking dare say anything or I’ll chop off the white knight’s hand.”
“This is blackmail.”
“And you love it,” I whisper at her ear and turn on the device from the remote in my pocket.
A moan rips from her as she grips the edge of the table.
With one last stroke of her hair, I push off her and answer the door.
Sure enough, Bill, the fucker who’s wishing to have an early death and a mafia funeral-style ceremony, stands at the entrance. He appears agitated, eyes darting, and he nearly knocks on my face when I open the door.
He’s accompanied by a policeman with a fat belly and small narrow eyes.
“May I help you, gentlemen?” I ask in my most amiable tone.
I can be a good sport, I just don’t like to play the role. I prefer the darkness and the night, that’s when people’s masks drop and they show their true colors.
“This is him.” Bill points in my direction and I’m tempted to cut off that fucking finger and carve his face with my knife. “He’s keeping her against her will.”
“I’m sorry?” I feign surprise. “Keeping who?”
“We had a complaint by miss Georgina Hill’s friend that she’s in a situation,” the cop says.
“What type of situation, officer?”
“Mind if we come in?” He motions behind me.
“Yes,” Bill’s face reddens. “Georgie will give her statement against this criminal.”
Okay, he’s out.
This fucker better start counting his days.
“That’s not something to joke about in front of an officer, Bill.” I’m still in my amicable mood, the perfect disguise strapped in place.
