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“Pull those panties to one side and keep touching yourself. Play that sweet clit.”
There’s another sigh, a muffled moan that’s half dipped in humiliation, and fuck me, it lights me up like a goddamn flare.
“Slide two fingers into your tight pussy, Pollyanna. Imagine they’re mine. Think about how it’s gonna feel when my cock’s thrusting into you.” I pause, hand on my thigh, said cock hard and heavy and aching to bust out of my pants.
To be brutally honest, I’m not sure who this is torturing more, me or her.
I live for the waiting game, that build of suspense and need, the holding off of that crash of euphoria. I’m thinking she just might, too.
She’s a natural-born sub. It’s in her blood and bones and soul. Just like a particular type of humiliation can rip her to shreds and the other can boost her pleasure.
I can deliver on both with a precise touch.
“How does that feel? Are you going slow or hard? Curl your fingers.”
“Ohhh.” Ivy gasps. “That’s…”
“Good, isn’t it? I bet you don’t touch that hot little cunt of yours enough because you’re such a sweet and innocent Pollyanna, aren’t you? Move those fingers faster.” My breath hitches as images of Ivy stroking her clit wallpaper my mind.
“Shoot…”
Does she even fucking swear?
“I’m going to enjoy fucking you, tearing you down from your ivory tower. Splitting you apart as I slam into you with my dick. And soon you’re going to be covered in the mud of me, of my sins.” My voice tightens, fingers clenching the phone tight to my ear. “I’m going to fucking ruin you and you’ll beg for more.”
She’s gasping, moaning, tiny protests that speak of need and want and desire.
I stroke my hand over my cock, then squeeze it hard. It’s a bite of discomfort, enough to drag me back from my brink. I listen to her sounds. They’re like the most erotic music.
“Merc—oh! Sir, I’m going to?—”
“Stop. Pull your hand away right fucking now.”
“Bastard.”
Her whisper is low, so low she probably thinks I didn’t hearit. I let it slide. It tells me she was right on the cusp, and she did what I asked. What I ordered.
And she does swear. I brought it out of her.
I look around, just noticing that the car is stopped. “Do not touch yourself. Be ready for me at your fucking door.”
“But—”
I hang up.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I take in a long breath.
Like her, hate her, the fact is that Ivy Gardner does things to me. Who’d have thought the skinny little kid would turn out so hot? She’s no siren. Pollyanna is way more complex than that. She’s so many things, and I’m going to enjoy uncovering them all, diving into them, working the lust from my system and then using her to bring everything down.
With that in mind, I adjust myself and get out of the car.
Nothing will get in the way of my objective.
And shattering Ivy Gardner beyond repair will be the icing on the whole sick and twisted cake.
TEN
mercer
