Page 105 of I Will Break You
A scream tears from my lips, which has him grinding that thick cock into my ass. I reach between our bodies, trying to grab it, but I can’t even graze it with my finger.
“Dirty girl. You want this.”
“Fuck off.” I clench my teeth, not wanting to give him any kind of satisfaction.
“Oh, I’ll be fucking, alright.” He grabs the waistband of my leggings and yanks them down to my knees. “This sweet little pussy is mine.”
“No—”
He slips his fingers beneath the lace of my panties and over my slick folds. Then he groans to find me aroused. “What’s this?”
“Nothing,” I snap, my hips jerking away from his touch.
He slides a thick finger into my opening, rubbing against pleasure centers that light up my nerves like fireworks. “You’re so wet.”
I swallow back a moan. That’s because my traitorous pussy hasn’t gotten the memo that we’re in the presence of a mass murderer. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Women get yeast infections?—”
He silences me with a hard spank that sends a sting straight to my clit. “Lie to me all you want. That will only earn you a punishment. But your body screams the truth.”
“You’re wrong. I?—”
“Suck it.” He brings his wet finger to my mouth before I can finish my denial.
“What?” I whisper.
“Lick your arousal off my fingers.”
“Or what?”
“I can fuck you all night, keep you on the edge, bring you to the brink of orgasm and never let you come. If you don’t submit to my commands, I’ll make you so frustrated you’ll beg for death.”
Somehow, I don’t think he’s talking about la pétite mort.
Parting my lips, I take in his finger and let him slide it into my mouth. Even if I didn’t see it glistening, there’s no denying the arousal, especially when he’s rubbing it against my tongue.
I clench my jaw, sinking my teeth into the digit, but all that does is make him moan.
“What are you?” I say around his finger. “A masochist?”
“Only if you’re the one giving me the pain. Since you like biting so much, I’ll add that to the list of things I’ll do when I fuck you in the dirt.”
My jaw relaxes, and he pulls out of my mouth.
Drawing back to give me space, he says, “Raise those fucking hips, little ghost. Let me see that pretty little cunt under the light of the moon.”
“No.”
“Very well.”
His body weight shifts. When I glance over my shoulder, he reaches into his leather coat and pulls out a twelve-inch knife.
“What the fuck?” I crawl on my belly, trying to get away, my pussy grazing the blades of grass, but he grabs the fabric gathered between my knees and cuts it loose.
Advancing on me, he places a heavy hand between my shoulder blades and cuts through the back of my hoodie and tank top. Cool metal slides across my skin as he divests me of my clothes.
Terror races through my veins, cold and sharp. The sensation gathers in the pulse behind my aching clit. This isn’t normal. No part of my body should find this situation exciting, but the bundle of nerves between my legs throbs in time with my pounding heart.
“This is the same blade I used to remove that bastard’s fingers and the other bastard’s tongue,” he says so casually that I can’t help but interpret his words as a threat.