Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
COLE
F rom the way I’m lying, I can’t see what she’s up to. All I can hear are her labored breaths as she seems to search for something. My heart rate picks up as I hear the clanging of metal on metal.
What is she doing?
What is she looking for?
What is she going to do with me?
And more importantly, why do I like the not knowing? Why do I enjoy the fact that I never know if she’s going to fuck me or throttle me?
I can see her movements in my periphery, hear her grunt as she seems to lift something.
The only things on that side of the room are…
Is she lifting weights right now? Has she seriously just left me here while she gets a workout in?
It shouldn’t surprise me, really. I’ve never known her to be normal.
Only, she doesn’t leave me alone for long. A moment later, she comes shuffling over, carrying two dumbbells. One’s smaller than the other, and I can’t work out from here what weights they are.
“I got us some toys to play with,” she murmurs, dropping the weights to the floor beside me, merely inches from my head.
“You’re insane,” I spit, my eyes widening when I see how close she just came to killing me.
I know she’s killed people before. Hell, I’ve seen it—and I know without a doubt that that was not the first time, since she’s clearly really fucking trained for that shit—but would she really kill me?
And would she even bat an eyelash if she did?
Or would she just move on with the rest of her day like she did the last time?
“I know,” she laughs and crouches down beside me to look me in the eye, a grin widening her lips. “Being normal is boring, pretty boy. I’m going to introduce you to the fun side of life.”
God help me. Her definition of an okay time is probably tying me to a wooden beam and practicing her knife throwing. A fun time to her is almost unimaginable.
“I’m going to live through this, right?”
She tips her head back in laughter. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on killing you. It would be a nightmare to cover up considering how well known your family is. Besides, I’ve come to rather enjoy our little games, and I wouldn’t want them to end too soon.”
That makes two of us.
I don’t voice that thought, though. I just stare up at her, waiting for her to get on with whatever she has planned.
She picks up the smaller of the two dumbbells and puts it on top of my tied wrists, the metal bar holding my arms in place with no room for them to move, before picking up the second one.
She has a sadistic gleam in her eyes as she crouches down beside me and places the larger barbell on my neck.
I have to push myself into the floor to stop the metal bar from cutting off my airway, and the dumbbell is the perfect size for the weights to fit snugly on each side of my neck.
So long as I don’t move around or push myself up, I’ll be able to keep breathing.
“Insane,” I grit through clenched teeth, since this time she really has rendered me unable to move.
She’s not just holding me in place as part of our little game. If I try to get up, I’ll end up choking myself.
So, I’ll say it again. The girl is insane.
“Shh,” she murmurs, “save your breath.”
She takes off my shorts, leaving me bare on the ground while she jumps up to go get something else. Either that or she’s just leaving me here.
She’s back before I can blink, holding a knife in her hand.
Goddammit, I should have hidden all of the knives in the house before I brought her here.
“Gonna cut me up again, little menace?” I can’t help but ask, and a knowing grin slides across her face.
“Only if you ask me nicely.”
Christ.
She knows I want it, but why does she have to make me say it aloud? It’s easier when she doesn’t give me a choice.
I stay silent, not giving her any ammunition, and she shrugs, letting the knife fall from her hand and it lands beside me.
Her fingers find the waistband of her leggings, and my cock jerks against my stomach as she starts to pull them down her legs until they’re lying on the floor beside us. Her bra and panties are next to go, leaving her as bare as I am .
She’s a vision like this, wearing nothing but the tattoos on her skin and a scowl on her face.
I was right the last time I saw them—she has flowers going up each arm—but what I didn’t notice before is that she also has a snake wrapping its way up each arm, as though it’s coiling around her.
They’re beautiful.
And so is she.
If only she had the personality to match.
Oh, who am I kidding? I think I might finally be coming to terms with the fact that I actually… like her.
Gracie was right about everything.
I don’t know what it was that drew me to Lana in the beginning, but there’s something keeping me there now, too. It’s like now that I’ve gotten a look at what lies beneath the surface, I can’t look away.
She’s going to chew me up and spit me out.
And I’m okay with that, so long as I get to feel the way I do around her for a little longer.
She makes me feel alive.
Her hips sway as she approaches me before straddling me. I groan as I feel her warmth against my cock, her wet pussy just begging me to slip inside.
She places her hands on either side of my head, right beside the weights, and stares down at me, a blank expression on her face.
Normally, I’d probably grab hold of her or lean up to kiss her, but I can’t, not while I’m being weighed down like this, and I’m beginning to think that this is just another way for her to torture me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” she purrs, her eyes going to the knife beside us .
Fuck.
Goddammit.
I’m going to strangle her for this later.
“Okay,” I mutter.
She chuckles softly. “Say please.”
Fuck strangling her, I’m going to kill her nice and slowly.
“Please,” I whisper so quietly it’s barely audible even to me.
Mischief dances in her eyes as twirls the knife in her fingers. “Sorry, what was that?”
“Please,” I say louder, desperation clear in my tone, and I hate myself for it.
Almost as much as I hate her for making me say it.
“So needy,” she coos before her face takes on a more serious expression. “Okay, real talk. Are you clean?”
The thought of having her bare is almost enough to make me whimper, but I manage to hold it in.
“I’m clean,” I rasp. “Are you? And are you on the pill?”
She smirks at me. “No need to worry about any of that. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”
She lifts her hips, and my cock flexes beneath her, missing the heat and pressure from her body. I don’t have to worry about it for too long, though, because her hand wraps around me and she gives me two quick tugs before lining me up with her entrance.
Fuck. Me.
How does it feel even better than the last time?
Even with only my tip breaching her entrance, it’s still one of the best goddamn feelings I’ve ever felt.
She slides down me slowly, taking me inch by inch until I’m finally buried to the hilt.
“So fucking good,” I growl, and she laughs before bringing the knife to my chest. The L she carved into me last time is still visible, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to leave a scar.
I’m also pretty sure that I’m losing my mind, since I actually kind of want it to leave a scar.
She rocks her hips, making me want to buck up and fuck into her, but I don’t, because I know the moment I start moving my body, I’m going to cut off my airway.
The knife digs into me, just next to where she made her last cut, but I can’t see what she’s doing. All I know is she makes one lined cut.
She rocks faster, leaving me panting as I start to struggle to hold myself still, every couple of breaths I take being cut off as the bar digs into my throat.
“Breathing okay?” she asks, and I rasp out a yes.
She frowns.
“Well, that won’t do,” she says, and starts riding me harder, this time lifting up before sliding back down my length.
Her warm cunt envelopes my cock and she clenches, making me tip my head back with a groan.
Only the groan turns to a choke as my brain catches up to my body and I realize I’m suffocating myself.
If I had information that Lana wanted from me, I’d give her it in a heartbeat. No need to torture me for days, this is torture enough.
She slows down a little while I catch my breath and attempt to compose myself, but she doesn’t stop.
She’s still moaning and whimpering as she rides me, my dick hitting her G-spot.
“More,” I say huskily, and she gives me it. This time, I force myself to stay as still as possible, clenching my jaw in an attempt to stop myself from moving while her movements quicken, and she brings the knife back to my skin.
Another straight line cut.
I’m so close to the edge, but I’m not ready for this to end just yet.
“Use your other hand to play with yourself,” I say, and she raises a brow.
“Since when did you get to make demands?” she says haughtily, but she does it anyways. Her hand cups her breast before tweaking her nipple and sliding down her stomach.
She finally reaches her clit, and she makes small circles with her fingers. Her head tips back as she moans and rides me harder, rubbing her clit faster.
Her chest rises and falls as she does nothing but seek her own pleasure.
“So fucking hot. So tight around me. Jesus, Lana, your cunt was made for my cock.”
She moans at my words, and I take that as encouragement to keep going, it’s a good distraction, since it gives me something else to focus on instead of the dumbbell that’s moments away from killing me.
“You ride me so well, baby. Fucking beautiful,” I say hoarsely, but I can’t keep going.
Fuck, I can’t breathe.
I try to cough, but it comes out as more of a gargling sound and Lana focuses her attention back on me.
She nods to herself before bringing the knife back down and cutting into me while simultaneously clenching around me and riding me harder.
My vision goes black as I ride out the euphoria that is my orgasm.
I’m not sure if it was the knife, the lack of air, or whatever she did when she squeezed me so fucking good, but I come harder than I ever have before.
I might even pass out for a moment, because once I finally manage to blink my eyes open, my neck is free from constriction and Lana is untying the hoodie string from my hands.
“What did you do to me?” I ask, though it comes out as more of a strangled gasp.
She pulls the hoodie over her head before replacing her leggings and shoes.
I sit up on my elbows as I watch her dress, taking her in and noting that she looks as wrecked as I feel.
“I showed you how to have fun,” she says, though her tone has lost the playful edge that she had before. Now, it’s almost monotone.
“See you around, pretty boy,” she calls as she dips under the rope and makes her exit.
I flop back down and stare at the ceiling.
What in the holy fucking hell just happened?