Chapter 55 #2
I grunt. Not in pain, but in suppressed panic. With the way he’s holding my arms, I have little range of motion, but I can look down to see what he’s doing.
Although I wish I couldn’t.
Because he leaves the ice pick there, tucked behind my belt almost exactly how I’d had it back in the kitchen.
So close, and yet impossible to reach.
And now, with his free hand, he can test his theory of how much I want this.
His fingertips skate up the inside of my thigh. I squirm away from his touch, but he just follows, chuckling at my pathetic attempts at resistance.
When I try to close my legs, he burrows his knee between mine.
He rubs his fingers over my pussy, and my eyes squeeze closed at his low whistle when he feels how wet I am.
“Your needy little pussy wants this,” he murmurs, his fingertips making my entire body tingle with anticipation as he slowly circles my clit.
He slips a finger inside me. The groan he lets out makes my fucking ovaries quiver.
“You’re so fucking wet. You gonna lie and tell me your tight, dripping, slutty little pussy doesn’t want this?”
My chest is too tight to reply. I’m feeling all sorts of things right now, but argumentative isn’t one of them.
Horny.
Hotter by the minute.
Wound tighter than a fucking corkscrew.
But I don’t have a word to say when he nips my ear, his body melding against mine as his fingers slip over my pussy.
“You want this,” he breathes into my ear, sending a hard shiver through my body. “You need this. If you weren’t so fucking stubborn, you’d be begging.”
“Please,” I rasp, before I can stop myself.
“One little please isn’t good enough,” comes his breathless reply.
“Please-please-please,” I whisper in a rush.
“Please, what?”
I suck in a breath, as much to steel myself as to get air into my lungs.
There’s no way he’s a fucking virgin. He’d need experience to touch me this masterfully…right?
Would he, though?
After all, I spent years teaching Kai how to hurt me just right.
Doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. If anything, that just means he’ll have to work even harder for his prize.
“Please…” I groan. “Please…tell me when you put your dick in, because I doubt I’ll feel it.”
Kai pauses.
I swear I feel his lungs filling with air.
Then he slowly leans back, staring down as if he can see between my legs.
He can’t, though. It’s too dark, and my skirt’s in the way.
When our eyes lock, a shudder slams through my body that’s got nothing to do with the cold.
His fingertips glide over my wet pussy. “It’s not my dick I’m gonna put inside you,” he says.
The ice pick’s handle slides inside me so suddenly, a gasp rattles out my throat.
Kai darts forward, his lips crushing mine. How that touch can be more shocking than the way he’s violating my pussy, I don’t know. Maybe because of how I respond.
I don’t push him away.
I don’t stop him.
I spread my legs, and pant, “Harder,” into our kiss.
He complies—not just with the ice pick, but with his lips, too. I kiss him back just as forcefully until I taste blood.
I moan when he keeps the handle buried deep and uses his thumb to tease my clit, my hips angling into his touch so he can hit that bundle of nerves just right.
His hand shakes as he tries to keep to a rhythm without fumbling the ice pick. He’s making this up as he goes, using my reactions as his guide.
And I’m teaching him how to hurt me all over again.
He breaks off our kiss, moving his mouth to my ear, whispering, “You like that?”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him speak to me like that. Not cruel. Not taunting. He acts like he’s genuinely curious, even surprised, that I haven’t tried to struggle out of his grip.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “Fuck yes.”
We side-eye each other with our faces pressed together, Kai panting as loudly as I’m moaning.
“Wish it was my cock?”
“Yeah,” I moan.
“Wish it was Rooke’s cock?”
“Mm—” I try to stop talking, but there’s that same curious glint in his slitted eyes as he fucks me even harder with the ice pick. “Yes. But only if you’re watching.”
“Jesus, Haven,” he says almost mournfully, grinding his rock-hard cock against my leg. I swear I feel it pulse, like hearing those words turns him on even more. “What the fuck have you done to me?”
He’s right.
I’ve contaminated him. Corrupted him. What else could explain it?
Kai not only watched Bastian fuck me before…he watched the man rape me. The thought of being anywhere near either of them should sicken me.
But it changes nothing inside my crazy, fucked-up head.
In fact…it just makes me want them even more.
Knowing Kai wants to watch Bastian fuck me—that it gets him this hard even thinking about it—is so fucking hot, I can’t stop the swell of pleasure that pushes me over the edge.
When I come, it’s with a whole-body shudder-spasm that seems to shock him more than it does me.
Kai rips the ice pick free, and I hear it clattering over the floor as he tosses it away. Both hands go to my hair, holding me in place as he kisses me urgently, like he wants to steal the whimpers I make as I come undone.
Then he’s flipping me over, pressing down my head, angling my body over the sofa so my ass is up in the air.
With a twist of the top tangled around my wrists, he stretches my arms taut, keeping me from tipping over and hitting my head on the floor…but barely.
It’s in this precarious position, my entire body tensed as I try to keep my balance, that Kai finally claims his ten minutes in Heavenly.
And yes, the fucked-up nympho inside my head wishes Bastian were sitting in a chair nearby, watching.
Waiting for his turn.