"You enjoy pain, don't you?" I asked.
She shook her head.
I reached for the whip lying next to the nightstand, and when it landed on her tits, my little whore proved me right. Her loud moan rippled through the room.
"Liar," I whispered.
The whip descended on her tits again in another stroke, and she jerked harshly, throwing her head backward.
"Please…"
"Please, what?" I taunted her, rolling a nipple between my fingers. "Don't stop? You have to use your words if you want something."
My fascination turned to anger, and that anger turned into something more feral. It heightened my stroke when I whipped her again.
She moaned, thrashing beneath me. The skin around her nipples turned slightly red, but her nipples were as hard as a rock. She wouldn't stop clenching her thigh, and that was enough for me to know that she was already so wet.
My mouth descended on her nipple, and I tugged at it with my teeth, letting my fingers trail down her stomach. Her arousal coated my fingers as they glided over her folds.
She wasdrippingwet.
"Always so wet and needy for me." Her whimpers overshadowed my voice.
Her breathing turned labored, coming out more forced, and her chest wouldn't stop heaving. She was delirious with pleasure, like an addict who was willing to go the extra mile to get what she wanted.
Her body stiffened when the tip of a knife rested on her throat.
"Good girl," I mused, intrigued that she recognized our little knife play from the other day.
The knife looked so attractive against her skin, the sight hardening my cock to the point of pain. I teased her nipple withthe tip, groaning softly as her eyes rolled back in her socket. She was a fantasy come true, a seductive dream that consumed me.
She thrashed as the knife parted her folds, stretching the spreader bar even wider.
"Keep doing that, and you won't get any more of this." Her protesting whimper was enough for me to know that she was against that.
Her wetness made it easy for the knife to glide around her pussy. She arched off the bed, thrusting her boobs in my face, so that she could get a feel of that knife against the aching spot where she needed it the most.
She was so fucking responsive.
"You are a mess—my mess," I murmured, slowly thrusting the other end of the knife into her.
"Hmm…" she moaned, throwing her head to the side.
"You love that, don't you?" Her cunt was so greedy, wrapping around the knife as if it needed it to survive.
Need pulsed in my veins, the need to sink my cock into her and fuck her into this mattress until she couldn't move.
She nodded.
I frowned. "Use your words."
"Yes, please—yes!" she tried to meet the thrusts of the knife plunging in and out of her pussy, making wet, sloppy sounds, but the pace was too slow for her to bear.
Seeing her unravel around a knife was demonically thrilling. The control I had over her, over this situation, made me feel a semblance of power; it made me feel like I wasn't losing control after all.
"I-I need it—please," she whimpered.
"You need what?" I pinched her clit, spanking her pussy so hard. I reached for her hand, using it to cup my engorged cock. "This cock or the knife?"
