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“You might be scared, but even you can’t hide your body’s need for my cock. You can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?”
Pulling out his fingers leaves me cold and goosebumps erupt over my flesh. His hand leaves my pussy and circles my waist, pulling me backward. The motion causes me to lose my balance and I fall back, right into his lap, my back flush against his chest.
The air stills inside my lungs, and I force myself to breathe. His other hand snakes around the front of my body, trailing over my belly, and up between my breasts. I feel as if I’m in a trance, watching as he touches me with a gentleness that is completely unlike him.
Then, as if he can sense that I’m sinking deeper into his touch, that same hand snaps up to my throat. I gasp as his large hand circles my delicate skin, barely leaving any room for me to breathe. His other hand rests on my stomach and I flinch when I feel something cold touch me. Casting my eyes down I swallow back a scream at the sight of the blade of a knife pressing into my soft flesh. I always thought when he killed me it would be fast, and with a gun, but never with a knife, where he would get the chance to watch me bleed out.
“I’m going to have a scar where I got shot because of you. It’s only fair that I give you a scar in the same spot. Don’t you think?” I can feel every part of him molding against me. Our bodies like two pieces of clay molding together, fusing into one unique piece of art. His scent fills my nostrils, cinnamon, and clove. It humanizes the situation, but nothing about it can calm my erratic heartbeat.
Fear and dread paint me from the inside out. He intends to hurt me. I know it.
“Please, don’t,” I whimper, and I feel his already hard cock twitch while pressing up against my ass cheeks. Is my begging turning him on?
“Tell me to stop, Princess, beg me, and maybe, just maybe I’ll show you the mercy your father never showed our family.”
“Please…please, don’t hurt me,” I beg, my voice giving away that I’m not only scared but also turned on. Is this what he wants? Does he want me to fear him? If so, he is succeeding.
“Fuck Princess, my cock is harder than steel,” he hisses and I wish I could see him. The blade in his hand presses deeper into my skin and the spark of fear I was feeling a short time ago turns into something more, something molten hot.
“Should I fuck you with the blade? Make you bleed like you made me bleed?”
“You…you really want to hurt me?”
A sinister laugh erupts from his throat as he moves the blade lower. “I don’t just want to hurt you. I will hurt you. I want your pain. I want your fucking fear. I want your tears, to taste them on my tongue while I fuck every single one of your tight little holes.”
My breath hitches as he slowly starts to move the knife across my skin, moving up my body. He releases his grip around my throat and replaces it with the edge of the blade. With his now free hand, he grabs onto my hips and makes me sit up so he can reposition himself and line up his cock with my entrance.
“Sit down on my cock. Be a good little slut and maybe I won’t sink this blade into your skin.” Another gush of moisture has my pussy so wet his huge cock slides in with ease as I sit down, impaling myself on it. Pleasure rockets through me at the sensation of his cock filling me, my tight channel swallowing each delicious inch of his cock. I feel so full, and I want more, more of his violence, more of his filthy words.
“You like this, don’t you? Being my filthy little slut. Taking my cock how I want you to.” When I don’t answer him right away, he thrusts his hips up, and I almost fall forward with the jarring motion.
“Tell me and don’t lie to me, your pussy is so wet I can hear it, feel the slick warmth coating my cock. You can’t hide it...” He thrusts upward again, his cock probing the back of my womb, sending a sliver of both pain and pleasure up my spine.
Gritting his teeth, he says, “I’m going to fuck you, Jessa. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days. You want that, don’t you? To feel me inside you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, my cheeks heating.
“Beg,” he growls into the back of my neck.
“Please… please,” I plead.
“Please what?” His jaw is steel, his hold bruising, the knife at my throat sinks a little deeper into my flesh, and I’m not sure I would care if he slit my throat right now.
“Please, fuck me. Please, fuck me, Declan,” I rasp, my pussy tightening around his shaft. With one hand on my hip and the other holding the blade to my throat, he bucks his hips and I’m thrust upward. I slam back down on his cock with a vengeance, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to stifle the cry that threatens to pass my lips. He does this a few more times, my pussy clenching his length, refusing to let go. I want him. I want him so deep inside me that it’s damn near maddening.
“It’s such a fucking sight. To watch your pretty pussy swallow my cock. You were made for us, for us to use, to take from. Our dirty little slut.”
His words are sinister, and though I’m certain they’re meant to be degrading, they aren’t to me. They make me hot, drenched with need. I want to be his dirty little slut. I want to belong to all three of them in every single way possible.
Pressing my hands against his thighs, I start to bounce up and down on his cock. I sink my nails deep into his flesh, wanting him to feel the same spike of pain and pleasure he makes me feel. He groans behind me, moving the blade away an inch while I bounce up and down on his shaft, proving to me once again that it isn’t pain he wants to inflict on me.
The need to look at him, to see the carnal want in his eyes, overpowers me. I want to see how much he is enjoying this, see if he likes it just as much as I do. I want him to see my need, how his darkness turns me on.
“I want to turn around,” I pant in between bounces. “Please…”
He releases his hold on my hip and drops the knife from my throat, giving me a slap on my upper thigh.
“Turn around then. It’ll make watching you bleed out easier.”
