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Her hands fall to her sides as I kneel down and untie each of her legs. Then I stand in front of her. We are both naked. I’m covered in fake red blood.
Tentatively, her hands reach out and touch my chest where I fake stabbed myself. Her fingertips roam over my body as if she still needs to confirm I’m really here and not dead. I let her explore my body. She runs her hands over my pecs, my abs, and then she dips lower.
I hold my hands at my side, letting her do whatever she wants with me. She should be able to do whatever she wants—I’m an asshole.
Her nails dig into my flesh.
I hiss but still don’t move. “Whatever it takes, remember? I had to do whatever it took to ensure Declan’s safety.”
She nods, but she won’t just let this go.
She grips my cock in her hands.
I freeze.
I want to stop her before she does something she regrets, like cutting off my cock or balls for hurting her, but I won’t. I will endure whatever punishment she thinks I deserve.
She slides her hand roughly up and down my length.
I suck in a ragged breath. My body shudders in delight as her nails skim over my sensitive flesh, but I doubt what she has planned has anything to do with pleasure. I try to calm myself down, to get my cock to settle, but when she’s touching me, there is nothing I can do that will stop me from getting hard.
She strokes me again.
I about come undone.
She smirks, enjoying the control she has over my body. Then she kneels—fucking kneels like the goddess she is.
“What are you doing?” I ask, too quickly.
“You don’t get to ask me that after what you did.”
She strokes my cock in her hands as she wraps her lips around the tip. Flashes of what she did to that poor guy on the sex-game yacht, where she practically bit off his cock come to mind. And I would deserve it if she did.
I try not to let myself enjoy it as she pushes her lips down my length. My cock hits the back of her throat, and she extends her tongue to lick my balls with the entirety of my shaft inside her mouth.
I hold back a groan and hold my breath waiting for her to turn vicious, but she just keeps sucking. Until I can barely stand, until my eyes roll back in my head, until I become dizzy with desire, she sucks. I can’t hold back much longer.
Just when I’m starting to let my guard down, I feel my feet knocked out from underneath me.
I fall hard on my back.
Liesel climbs on top of me.
“I hate you,” she growls as she straddles me.
“I know, but I’ll never hate you again,” I say.
She shakes her head stubbornly, and then she’s pushing herself down on top of me. My cock sinks into her. She doesn’t move initially; she just lets my cock stretch her.
Her eyes close, and a tear rolls down her cheek.
“Hey,” I say, brushing her cheek. “I’m sorry. You’re not going to lose me.”
My words cause more tears, which makes me frown. I try to sit up. I’m not sure fucking is the right thing to do now, but then her hand is at my throat, and she’s pushing me back down onto the floor. Her hips move over me hard. When she finally opens her eyes, there’s a fierceness to them that shines through the tears.
She bounces on top of me, hard and fast. There isn’t anything gentle about it—no long, loving strokes, caresses, sweet nothings. This isn’t about lovemaking. This is her telling me how much she hates me.
I test the waters, meeting her thrust as she slams down on me. The look in her eyes turns more feral, so I take that as an affirmation that she wants me to fuck her, just as she’s fucking me.
