Rip Me To Pieces
Lex
I fight to keep my expression unreadable. He can’t know how much this is turning me on. Each step he takes, and I’m drowning in my heat. He is enormous in my room, not that this space is large—no condo in the city is—but even with 12-foot ceilings, the walls feel like they’re closing in.
He’s still in his suit from tonight. All black. Black pants, black button down, black tie. When my back hits the dresser, it’s all I can do, not to moan. He moves across the room toward me, nothing short of predatory. The darkness in his eyes sends a shock across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“But it was Colton. That was the icing on the fucking cake. You made a pass at one of my best friends. Knowing what that would do to me. Knowing what it would do to our friendship.”
He is practically on top of me. I tilt my head up to look into his eyes and press myself harder back into the dresser, wishing it would disappear. When it doesn’t, I huff. I need him to touch me, but how do I ask for it?
Suddenly, his hands shoot up, and I flinch. Again.
Fuck.
They slam into the wall behind me, caging me in. The depth of the dresser means his face is millimeters from mine. Our lips are nearly touching when he whispers, “So, Lex. Are you ready for your punishment?”
Something about the tone of his voice triggers my flight response. I don’t want to get away from him, but I don’t want to submit just yet. Dropping down, I duck under his arm and bolt for the bedroom door. I must take him by surprise because he miraculously doesn’t immediately grab me. I crash into the kitchen and slam into the counter, my lungs emptying on impact. His heavy footsteps follow—unhurried. Controlled. I notice the butcher block in front of me and reach for the largest knife. It’s one of those huge horror movie-like blades.
I spin fast, knife raised, the blade glinting under the light—aimed straight at his chest.
He laughs. Low. Dark.
He. Laughs.
He laughs and doesn’t hesitate for even a second. He stalks forward, reaching out and grabbing the knife out of my hand, flinging it to the floor. I spot the small slice on his hand immediately.
“Do not try something so stupid again.”
His voice is demanding, and the part of me that has always despised being told what to do reacts.
I spit directly onto his face.
Oh. You stupid, stupid girl.
He leans in, pressing his left hand onto the counter and raising his right hand, which drips blood to his face. He slowly wipes the spit, holding my stare, and then sticks the bloody, spit-covered finger into his mouth.
I feel the blood drain from my face, yet the inferno in my veins intensifies. I’ve never been so turned on in my fucking life.
His eyes roam over my face and then down to my chest. I see his expression shift, and his lips quirk up in a smirk.
“Look at you.”
I don’t need to look at shit. I know what he’s saying. My nipples are so hard, and there’s wetness pooling between my legs. I am so drenched and fighting the urge to fuck myself right here in front of him.
Not that I would ever admit that to him, though, so instead I say, “Fuck you.”
His smile widens, and his hand brushes my nipple, and my back automatically arches, pushing me into his touch. This must provide the permission he was waiting for because his hand slowly drops, trailing his bloody fingers across my stomach, leaving a streak of red behind. My hips shift forward, silently begging them to continue.
I hiss a breath when he circles my clit, but I do not break my stare.
His lips part slightly. They are full, and I am desperate to see what his tongue tastes like tonight. I’m leaning toward him when his eyes return to mine.
“Bed. Now.” He commands.
I must hesitate a second too long because the fingers that were lazily circling my clit firmly lock into place, pinching off the blood flow and pushing a high-pitched noise from me.
“Now.”
He’s louder, and there is no request in his tone.
I feel my pulse throbbing between his fingers, and my knees shake.
How the fuck am I supposed to move when he’s holding me like this?
His grip eases as if he can read my mind, but he doesn’t fully move away. Instead, he tugs my clit forward as he takes a step backward toward my bedroom. All I can do is follow him.
It’s awkward and painful but so intensely hot. Still, I can’t help my smart-ass tongue.
“Imagine how much faster we would get there if you fucking let go.”
The best I can do is to pretend I’m not desperate to throw myself onto that bed.
He releases me fully, but instead of letting me walk myself, he hauls me over his shoulder, my bare ass in the air. I squirm, trying to get out of his grip.
I register the sound before my body registers the sharp pain of him slapping my ass.
“Stop.”
I still instantly.
Ow.
A second later, he flings me off his shoulder, and I land on my back on the bed. From this angle, he looks 10 feet tall. This menacing devil here to pull me down to hell with him. I scoot back on the bed a few inches, but he reaches out, grasping my ankles and pulling me back to him.
From here, it’s impossible not to notice the hard outline of his dick pressing against his pants. The sight leaves me gasping. I can tell he’s huge.
When was the last time I had sex?
He’s going to rip me to pieces.
I shake the thought away. I can’t possibly want that, right?
“Actions have consequences, Morgan.”
The use of a name I haven’t heard in years sobers me. My eyes fly back up to meet his, and I know the look on his face is satisfaction over his ability to shock me.
“So, I need to know. Do you want your punishment, or do you want me to leave and never look back?”
The thought of him walking away, of never seeing those dark eyes on me again? That’s the real punishment.
I’m desperate to know what his idea of punishment feels like.
Adrian
She isn’t telling me to leave. While I want to press forward, I’m unwilling to force something on her that she doesn’t want. Her body tells me everything—how she breathes, how fucking wet she is, the way her nipples peak. She wants this. I just need her to say it. I need to know that she knows she wants this.
“What’s it gonna be?” I press.
Say it.
Her lips press closed as she fights to bite her tongue. I’ve never met anyone so fucking stubborn. We’re playing chicken right now, and there’s so much at stake. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I open them, she’s looking down toward her bed. She looks submissive like this.
I can’t be wrong.
I take a step back toward the door.
Her eyes flash to mine, and she rushes out, “No.”
Anchoring my feet, I ask again.
“What. Will. It. Be?” Each word stabs the air with intensity.
Her voice is small and cracks a little.
“Punish me.”
Good girl.
Her hands move slowly to the hem of her shirt, curling under it. She takes a shaky breath before slowly pulling it over her head. How her hair spills out of it, landing on her shoulders in soft, loose waves, might be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. It’s not enough, though.
“Punish… me…?”
She knows what I’m asking for. I see it in the way her nose scrunches, and she fights the urge to tell me to fuck off.
“Ugh. You’re impossible.”
I step back again.
“Punish me, please!”
Her tone is higher, pleading.
“Sit on your knees. Hands behind your back.” I demand.
I could come right now—the experience of her surrendering to me. Begging to be punished for the stunt she pulled tonight.
It’s too delicious.
I’m still basking in the glory of the moment as she slowly shifts onto her knees, her feet tucked under her ass, thighs together. She slowly moves her hands behind her; they land on the soles of her feet.
“Do not move, Morgan.”
“Please.” This time, her tone is different. There’s a sadness to it. “Please don’t call me Morgan.”
She doesn’t shift to look at me. Her gaze tilts toward her knees.
I won’t argue with the request.
“Do not move, Lex.”
I see her shoulder rise and fall with relief, and I spin to grab my backpack. I put it down on the bed beside her and opened it fully. I want her to see what’s inside. However, she doesn’t move. Her eyes trained straight ahead.
I retrieve the black canvas straps from the inside. Stepping behind her, I secure them first to her wrists and then push her forward so her face is against the mattress, her ass in the air. This allows the access needed to secure the remaining straps to her ankles. I grab her by her shoulders and pull her back up onto her knees, and—Jesus Christ. The restraints force her into a position that pushes her chest out and doesn’t allow her arms to come out from behind her.
She’s utterly helpless like this.
“Spread your knees. As wide as you can.” My voice grumbles, thick with desire.
I’ve waited for this.
She shifts back and forth to wedge her knees open. When she stills, I can’t help but smile. This is exactly as I imagine it would be. She is perfect. The position grants me access to her pussy, but restricts her ability to push me away.
“You say no or stop, and this stops,” I tell her. I’m not fucking around with safe words.
She nods slowly, and when I look at her, her eyes are already rimmed with tears, and she trembles. I return to the bag, removing the items and lining them up right in front of her, where she’s locked her gaze. I need her to see everything.
When I’ve finished, there are three suction cups, a device one of my buddies told me his wife calls the ‘Soul Sucker 3000’, and a large wand that is hilariously marketed as a back massager. She’s breathing fast as she takes it all in. I take the suction cups and fasten one to each of her nipples and push her panties aside to attach the final one to her clit. When they are in place, I straighten to my full height. I’m breathless; she looks like a fucking dream, and my control starts to slip. I’m not sure how I will manage to get through this.
I need distance before I lose control.
Spinning, I storm out of the bedroom; her strangled moan echoing behind me.
Once in the living room, I pace. Those initial steps pushed me so close to the edge, and I can honestly say I’ve never been nervous about coming in my pants just from looking at a woman.
Calm down.
The wrinkly, freaky little cat sleeps soundly on the couch. I drop down beside it and gently pet its head.
Not at all how I thought this thing would feel.
After a few moments, I’m no less hard, but the threat of blowing my load seems to have subsided, and I can only imagine she is losing it in there. Rising, I go back to the room, ensuring my back is straight and my head’s held high as I enter. She hasn’t moved, and her eyes are still in the space in front of her. I can see through the suction cups that her clit is swollen. It must be so sensitive. Her hair has shifted and lies around her face, covering her breasts. Her shoulders rise and fall in rapid succession. I cross to the bed in two steps, reaching down and flicking the suction cup between her legs. She groans, her head falling forward slightly. I break the suction and remove it; its effects make my mouth water.
“Lex. Look at me.”
Her eyes shift up my body slowly.
Any anger she held before has evaporated. Her eyes are hooded, filled with lust. Her lips are parted and moist. I reach for two items left on the bed, holding them up.
“Choose.”
Her brows furrow.
“I—I don’t know what they do.”
I cock my head. “That’s not what I asked.”
She looks back and forth between them. She knows they have a purpose relevant to this, but not how they work specifically. Her eyes set on the smaller of the two, and I work to hide the smile that wants to spread onto my face.
“That one.”
She tries to sound confident, but she’s breathy. Hungry.
I toss the larger of the two items onto the bed, my focus locked on her. I couldn’t be more pleased to give this a shot. One night, the small toy came up in the locker room, and my buddy Ben claimed that his wife had found God with it. It seems appropriate since I am about to show Lex that there are only devils here.
Kneeling on the bed in front of her, I notice she is once again dropping her eyes down. I gently tilt her chin upward, forcing her to look at me.
“Eyes on me. Always. Got it?”
She nods.
I press the power button on the toy, and a low hum fills the room. I advance, reaching out to her panties and ripping them off. She flinches slightly. I reach forward with the small toy, stopping just before her clit.
“And, Lex? You will not come.”