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I stare at her, wondering how a girl who’s so sweet and innocent on the surface but is so dark and depraved under the surface.
A girl who might just understand me.
“More,” she breathes, making something unfurl within me.
“You cut for release.” It’s not a question.
It’s a statement.
One I understand all too well.
She nods once, regret and shame glittering in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asks when I move closer, pressing my thigh between hers, putting pressure on her pussy. “Oh God.”
Just as I thought.
I press harder against her, earning a moan to spill from her lips before I press my thumb into the freshly opened wound.
“Feel that?”
She nods eagerly, her pupils dilating as the pain and pleasure mix.
“You want more?”
She nods again. Her hips grinding against my thigh.
Desire like I’ve never experienced before shoots straight to my dick, making it ache with need.
“Shit, Red. Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look right now?” I groan, letting her take what she needs from me.
Her head falls back against the rough wall as she finds her rhythm.Her eyelids lower, threatening to sever our connection.
“Eyes, Red. They need to be on me. I want you to know who’s giving you this release.”
I have no idea if she’s willingly following orders, or if my demand shocks her so much that her eyes widen.
“That’s it. Use me, Red. Be a good girl and find the release you need.”
The heat of her pussy burns through her knickers and my trousers.
The need to replace my thigh with my fingers is so fucking strong. But I know that if I do that. If I feel how wet she is right now then I won’t be able to stop.
“Oh God,” she whimpers, the blush on her cheeks spreading down her throat and disappearing beneath her school shirt.
“That’s it. I bet you’re so beautiful when you come, Red.”
I press my thumb into her wound harder as my hand on her hip drags her closer, upping the friction on her clit.
“Oh God. Oh God,” she whimpers as her release approaches.
The greenish-brown flecks of her eyes are almost completely black.
“Did he make you feel this good?” The words slip free, and I hate myself for asking the second they roll off my tongue.
She doesn’t react, and I pray that she’s already too far gone to have heard them.
The last thing I need is her to know just how fucking jealous of that motherfucker I really am.
