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Gareth only smirked. “We’re getting there. I have to say, it took everything to hold back in the woods, to watch you give yourself to Rick. You know the truth about him, and you still turned around and let him stick his dick in you. Was it worth it? Were you as wet for him as you are for me right now?” His fingers left my clit, dipping lower to my pussy. How easily they slipped inside me was a telltale sign of how wet I was. There was no resistance whatsoever.
“And if I was?” I could hardly say the words. “Are you going to punish me, Gareth?”
The way his smirk deepened made my stomach flip, and he leaned his mouth against my cheek, whispering, “I’m going to remind you who you belong to, and then I’m going to leave you here while I take care of Rick. I’ll deal with Alistair later.”
He set the switchblade down beside my head, and since I was tied up, I couldn’t grab it. Not like that time with the butter knife. Gareth rolled off of me, working to take off his pants and get his bottom half naked. I could only turn my head so much, but I knew his cock had to be hard. He got off on the promise of pain.
Within another minute, he was back on me, his cock free and raring to go. He set a hand on my neck, forcing me to stare up at him as he pushed himself inside of me inch after inch, as if he needed my eyes on him. This was, after all, a reminder to us both that I had agreed to be his, that I belonged to him in every way.
And, fuck, I hated how good it felt to have him inside me. I hated the fact that I let out a whimpering moan when he filled me up, how I had to close my eyes and give in to the twisted deliciousness that was Gareth Montgomery.
He wanted to hate me? He wanted to kill me? The feeling was mutual, and yet, beyond those chaotic emotions was something so much more horrific.
There was nothing more frightening in this world than realizing you were in love with a monster. Realizing you were just like him was the cherry on top of the cake. Flaws, mistakes, murderous tendencies and all; I knew it in my heart right then: I was in love with Gareth, whether he killed Erin or not.
And I hated him for it, just like I hated how good his body felt above mine. I hated how he drew out sounds from me, how my body reacted to his. Gareth was someone who deserved nothing but vitriol and disdain, and yet I craved him like a drug.
He had me tied up and naked under him, for fuck’s sake. That should tell you all you needed to know, but there was so much more to this equation than just he and I. So much more.
My body swayed with each thrust of his hips. Gareth fucked me hard, every movement with power behind it. The entire bed rocked. “You’re mine,” he was busy whispering into my ear as he pumped away at my core, dragging his cock out of me before shoving it back in in a vicious display of affection—the only kind of affection he could give. “You’re fucking mine, Bri. I’m not going to let anyone else have you. Not Rick, not Alistair, not that fucking Neo… anyone who so much as looks at you is a dead man walking.”
So possessive, so willing to inflict pain and violence on my behalf, to keep me as his. Through the haze he filled my mind and body with, it was kind of sexy, in a twisted way.
Every thrust of his hips pushed me toward the limit. I could feel myself losing it, and I fought to stay sane. I fought to resist the orgasm building in my lower half, but it was a battle I could not win. With Gareth above me, filling my head with such deliciously possessive promises, with his cock pummeling my insides, there was no way I could resist it for long.
When the it became too much, I cried out an incomprehensible sound, my muscles spasming—though my arms and legs couldn’t move at all, given how tied up they currently were. A hot, fiery wave of pleasure surged through me, and my core clamped down on his cock, the inner muscles undulating.
“Fuck,” Gareth murmured, “I told you. I told you you were mine.” As if my orgasm was evidence of that itself.
He fucked me even harder after that, drawing out my orgasm with the sheer intensity of how hard he went at me. Over and over, I was fucked to oblivion and back, so hard I could see stars. He didn’t let up, not until he erupted within me.
And when he came, he came with a vengeance. It was like every moment prior had led to this. We’d come full circle. Gareth’s hips bore down against me, his cock filling me up as he let out a guttural moan that told me I was now full of his cum.
We both breathed hard as he pulled himself out of me. I thought he’d linger longer, but he got to his feet and slipped on his pants, stuffing his cock away without so much as a word. I turned my head to watch him. The switchblade still sat, open, beside my head, and he went to pick it up, slowly closing it as his green eyes met my stare and held it.
He was going to let me go, wasn’t he? He wouldn’t keep me tied up like this, where my freaking mom could stumble in and see me naked and spread eagle, cum leaking out of my pussy, would he?
“Gareth,” I started, but he held up a finger.
“No. I told you what I’m going to do next, and you’re going to stay right here while I do it.” Gareth shut the switchblade, a dark twinkle in his eyes. “But, I think it would be nice if you were there with me—a part of you, anyway.” He moved to the side of the bed, to the middle, where my midsection was. His fingers toyed with the shut switchblade.
It took me too long to realize what he was going to do, and by the time it had come to me, he’d already lifted the handle of the switchblade and brought it between my thighs. I couldn’t say a single word as he pushed the cold metal handle inside me, dipping the switchblade in as deep as it could go while he kept two fingers on it.
Having the hard metal switchblade inching inside me was a feeling I never thought I’d have. Uncomfortable, and yet…
I moaned when he pulled it out of me and held it up in the light of the lamp. He stared at it with a smile on his face, turning it so we could both get a nice, long look at how the metal glistened with both my arousal and some of his spent cum. It was like we were together, like whoever he’d hurt with that switchblade after this would be hurt by the both of us.
Disturbingly poetic, but that was apparently Gareth’s style.
“Perfect,” he murmured, and then he looked at me. “There is something else I want to leave you with, though.” He slipped the switchblade into his pocket and walked toward the foot of the bed. I could only lift my head so far to see what he was doing, and it looked like he bent over to pick something up that was on the floor, just in front of the bed.
What now?
A box, a foot long, maybe six inches wide. He set the box on my nightstand, carefully lifting the lid. “Now, I’d rather not talk about what I had to do for this, but obviously, you need some more instruction. My cock is the only one allowed in that tight pussy of yours.” When he turned to face me, I saw he held onto a… onto a dick.
A dick that was a perfect replica of his own.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t. All I could do was hold my breath as I watched Gareth lean over my leg and bring the dildo between my thighs. “You’re going to have my dick in you when I kill Rick,” he told me, so matter-of-factly, too. Like it was just something that had to be done.
