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“I know you’re currently incapable of getting the job done.” I know what I’m doing, and I might as well have signed my own death note.
Another intense burn from a slap is felt all throughout my body, and I whimper.
“Really? Incapable, huh?”
I angered the devil, walked into his den, tempted him, and now he’s blazing red from the inside out.
“Shit,” I whisper. It’s about to get really fucking good, but I know it wouldn’t be for the faint of heart.
“Yeah—‘oh shit.’” He takes the back of my thighs in his hands, roughly spreads me as far as I can, and without any warning, he slams two fingers in me and curls them downward, immediately hitting that tender flesh deep inside me.
I almost come. But before I can, Theo removes his fingers, leaving that special spot inside me without any friction. He’s withholding my orgasm.
“Theo!” I scream.
“That’s right. Scream for me, Hanna. Make sure the camera hears how bad you want me.”
“You asshole!” I cry out, my hips circling as my body seeks relief.
“What do you want?” He laughs like the devil himself. The sounds from the movie are almost drowned out.
“Fuck. Me,” I choke out each word, beyond feral at this very moment.
“Like this?” His invasion is back, but this time, one finger enters slowly, sliding in and back out, then back in with a second finger. As he repeats this movement, I cry his name again when he inserts a third finger. Theo moves them in and out, circling them and stretching me in a deliciously achy way.
“I’m close. Don’t stop. Please,” I beg him. He pulls out his fingers, and I can hear my arousal mix with my protest.
“I can’t get the job done? I’ll just have to keep trying, I guess.”
This bastard. Fine. Two can play this game. I take my hand and slide it into the tight space between my stomach and the velvet chair. My finger makes contact with my clit, and I begin to rub vigorously. It takes less than a second for Theo to realize what I’m doing, and he grabs my hand and keeps it in his.
“You don’t get to touch yourself unless I allow it. Have you forgotten the rules? Your body is fucking mine. Made for me. Programmed to take me. Don’t you do that shit again.”
I pull my hand back and hiss as Theo slaps my pussy. My swollen clit gets the brunt of it, and I orgasm so hard I can feel my skin prickle and the roots of my hair stand up. My stomach contracts and my toes curl. This whole night has been the lead-up to my orgasm. Each moment, each touch, each second, and each minute has been bringing me up to a full boil until I exploded like a volcano at its breaking point.
“God! Shit.” My legs shake, and I’m about to lose control of them as they start to give out underneath me. The only thing that is keeping my knees from buckling is Theo’s hands on my hips.
When did he put them there? I have no idea. But if they weren’t, I would be a puddle on this floor.
“Good girl. Keep riding it out,” he praises and guides me.
“I need something to cling to,” I ask him unabashedly. My core is still pulsing. The orgasm I just had can only be described as surface-level. It took off the edge, but there’s something still deep inside me stirring, brewing, and waiting for the real thing. Him. If it isn’t all of him, it isn’t enough.
“Say you’re sorry,” he taunts, massaging my hips and licking and nipping at my lower back. He takes the extra skin and folds between his teeth. The way he always takes the time to appreciate all the parts of me that I wouldn’t believe could be a turn-on will never cease surprising me.
“I’m sorry. For teasing you and pushing you to punish me. I’m ready for you. Do your worst, Theo. Fucking make a mess of me.”
“Much, much better, puppet.”
I wait for his next instruction. His hands and mouth leave me, and the anticipation builds my need to come again. The wait may be torture, but when the prize is him inside me, using my body as I use his, that is worth it all. I could play this type of game with him for days. If we had that kind of time, I would take it. Use each moment teasing, taking, and receiving. Making it last until the very last second we had.
After tonight, we will have to figure out a way to get back to this. Will every time be like this again? No. But will most? God, I hope so.
“Prop the camera against the chair back and stand. Keep your hands on the seat.” He hands me his phone, and when I get it in my hand, I see myself and him both in the screen. He’s standing at his full height, but I can only see the silhouette of him. The wall behind him is lit with the movie, and it casts him in a menacing, haunting glow. He is a shadow. And to think—they used to scare me.
