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“Take these off.”
My lip trembles and a single tear slides down my temple.
“Please, don’t do this.”
He cocks a brow, and the act is damning. He looks so damn unimpressed with my pleas, causing another tear to trace the path of the first.
“Now, Adeline.”
Sniffing, I finally listen. Hooking my thumbs in the band of my leggings, I pull them down. I’m only able to reach mid-thigh before his body gets in the way.
He takes the hint, lifting up and ripping the leggings down the rest of the way.
More tears follow suit.
“T-shirt next,” he orders, jerking his gun to signal his order. I lift up and slide the shirt over my head, laying back down with a huff.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes tracing over the curves of my body. Fucker is lucky I’m wearing my black lace set tonight.
He doesn’t fucking deserve it, either.
He leans over me again, his mouth kissing the last bruise he left on my shoulder.
“Do you know what these mean?” he whispers, kissing another spot. I shudder beneath his touch, electricity sprouting from the point of contact and dancing across my skin.
I don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“They mean that I own you. Marked you as mine.”
The tip of his tongue darts out, trailing my flesh as he moves down towards my breasts.
“Don’t—”
His teeth pierce the swell of my left breast before I can finish my pointless demand. I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut as he leaves another mark on my skin.
Once he’s satisfied, he renews his path with his mouth, leaving hickeys on both of my tits and several across my stomach. And all I can do is just take it. Because that gun in his hand is keeping me pliant—just like he planned.
When my body is well and abused from his teeth and tongue, he lifts up and forces my thighs open. I strain against him, but it only hurts me in the end. He’s too strong.
His pointer finger curls in the edge of my thong, tracing the lining from the juncture of my thigh, down towards my center. Before he reaches my clit, he pulls the material out and runs his finger up and down the fabric, his finger a mere inch from my pussy.
I want to cover my face because I know he’s feeling my body’s betrayal.
“These are soaked,” he rasps out, his lips still wet from his saliva.
“That’s called discharge,” I snap, hoping my lie turns him off. He smiles in response.
“As much as I hate to say this to you, I’m no stranger to a woman’s pussy and what it feels like when it weeps for me.”
I curl my lip in disgust. “Last time I checked, most girls weep because they’re upset. Take a hint.”
He chuckles. “Little mouse, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He then pulls my thong to the side, baring my pussy to him, and the arousal glistening from within. He mutters a curse under his breath as his eyes devour every inch of me. Another tremble of my lips has me biting down on the traitorous flesh.
Keeping one finger hooked in my underwear, he points the gun in my face with the other. I recoil, pinching my eyes shut and letting loose a startled yelp.
“Relax, I just want you to suck on it.”
It takes several seconds for his words to process. To process that he didn’t pull the
