Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
My shoulder is still dripping blood as we both fall silent. My words hang in the air. Words I never thought I’d ever say to a woman. Words I never even thought about.
I’m blaming the blood loss. Though the idea of Prue as my wife doesn’t completely disgust me. Marriage is a legal binding cage, but I don’t think I’d mind being in any cage with her.
Still. Why the fuck did I say that out loud?
“Jesus, Prue. I’m not serious, but if it means you will take my money.” I shrug, trying to gloss over how appealing the idea is becoming.
“I’m not taking your money,” she repeats, not addressing the proposal of marriage at all, which I’m grateful for. “Just take me back to Cameron’s so I can cry in peace.”
“You can’t stay at Cameron’s tonight. Not alone. Maybe not ever,” I say. My plan was to take her back there to grab some things before taking her back to my place.
“Why?”
“Do you think that piece of shit ex of yours isn’t going to come back? I’m pretty sure he is putting a bounty on my head as we speak. If not him, your father.”
“They aren’t that crazy.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Not crazy enough to stab themselves. Mr. loves his car so much doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about bleeding all over it,” she counters.
“It’s used to having bodily fluids in it.” I smirk. She leans over, pressing her palm over my wound. “Jesus,” I hiss. “Give a guy some warning before you cover his bleeding wound.”
“Give a girl some warning before you decide to ask her to marry you.”
“I was joking.”
“I’ve had a long day. I just want to lay in my bed, watch stupid chick flicks, and cry.” She sighs. “Alone,” she adds, leaning back in her seat. Some of my blood sticks to her hands, and I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t bleeding out right now, my cock would be hard.
Never knew I had a blood kink, but it seems she is creating new ways to get me hard.
“You can lay in my bed, watch all the shitty movies you want, and cry, while I sleep on the couch.”
“No. My bed.”
“No. Mine.”
“You’ll have to tie me up because I’m not staying at your place any other way,” she snaps.
“Okay.” I nod. “Have it your way. Lucky for you, I already have the handcuffs.”
“You don’t,” she says, her mouth dropping open as she studies me. I just grin. “You wouldn’t.”
“I do. And I most certainly would.”
My plan to take her back to Cameron’s died the moment she decided to push back against my plan on keeping her at my place, so instead I head straight to my condo.
There is no way I’m leaving her alone. I don’t trust her father, her ex, or herself to not cause problems. She is safer by my side. I don’t give a shit if she wants to watch movies and cry. She can do that in my room, but I’d have to be dead to let her be completely alone right now.
I’ll grant her space and grace, but she needs me around right now.
When we pull up outside my condo, she reaches for the handle, pulling on it. I was fairly sure she would try to make a break for it the moment she could, so I switched on the child safety locks.
Smiling, I slip out of the car, grabbing the bag from the store, before walking to her door. I yank it open and take ahold of her hand before she can even think about bolting. I’m in no mood to chase her right now.
“I’ll make a scene,” she says as I pull her from the car.
“And I’ll make a bigger one.” I shrug, leading her to the lobby.
I keep my grip on her wrist firm, but not tight as we take the elevator to my floor. She keeps as much distance between us as possible. When the door opens, she tries to plant her feet, but I’m stronger, even hurt, so I just tug until she gives in and follows beside me.
I gently push her into my condo the minute I unlock it, doing up the half a dozen locks I have on my door. It buys me time if she tries to run. Gives me a chance to stop her.
“I was hoping to take you back to Cameron’s so you could get a few things, but I didn’t trust you to leave there without kicking and screaming, so here we are.”
“Smart.” She glares at me. Her arms folded over her chest, as her hip sticks out.
“Please make yourself at home.” I wave my hand around. “But first, let’s get some lotion on your tattoo. We should’ve done that hours ago.”
Sighing, she plops down on my couch, kicking off her shoes and pulling off her sock. I grab the lotion from the bag. I kneel before her, taking her foot in my hand.
She just watches as I apply lotion to it. I blow on her skin after, to help the lotion dry into her freshly inked skin. Her ankle looks good with my art on it. Her body relaxes, even if her eyes keep glaring at me.
“I’d ask you to do mine, but I’m pretty sure you’d dig your nails into it.” I laugh.
“I won’t,” she whispers.
“What did you end up having me get anyways?”
“Not telling,” she snaps. She takes the lotion from me, and I tug off my hoodie and shirt, wincing as the wet fabric yanks from the sore skin around the stab wound. “You’ll have to ask the next girl you fuck.”
I laugh, sitting on the ground in front of her. Her hand slaps over my tattoo. The sting of her slap and the cool of the lotion create a pleasant feeling, making me groan. I lean into her touch as she presses her fingers into my fresh tattoo.
She leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. I sit still. There isn’t much I wouldn’t let her do to me right now. Her teeth scrape against my flesh one moment and then she is biting into the shoulder I stabbed myself in. Digging her teeth into my sore flesh and sucking.
I groan again. The pain she inflicts is becoming intoxicating. I would endure all of it just to keep her safe and by my side.
Her hand slides down my side, pressing into my ribs. A whimper escapes my mouth, as she keeps sucking on my shoulder.
The bleeding has stopped, but I haven’t had a chance to clean off the dried blood yet. If it bothers her, she doesn’t show it.
When her mouth breaks away from my skin, her hand drops to the front of my jeans. I shift, granting her better access. My cock is stiff, has been from the moment she bit me.
“Do you want me to touch it?” she whispers in my ear, before letting her mouth wrap around the lobe.
“No,” I counter, and she pulls back, but I grab her hand, keeping it in my lap. “I need you to touch it. Please.” How I’ve become so willing to beg for it, I’ll never understand, but I’m desperate for her.
“If I touch it, if I make you cum, will you let me leave?” she asks.
“No. Not happening,” I say, jerking forward.
I push myself to my feet. “I much rather have you stay here, where you are safe, than I would cum, but good try.” I stroll to the kitchen.
She is evil. A vixen from my worst nightmare.
My cock aches for her, but I’m not playing whatever game she is playing.
“Now I’m starving. How about a frozen pizza? ”
“Then that’s the deal.”
“What?” I counter, looking back at her as she sits back on my couch with a smug smile on her face.
“As long as I’m trapped here with you, you can’t cum.” I stare at her, processing her words. The idea is pure agony, but she has my back against the wall. “Like at all. Not from my touch or your own. Or even involuntarily. You cum. I leave. Deal?”
“You’ll stay here as long as I don’t cum?”
“Yes. I won’t try to run. I will stay put like a good girl, as long as you don’t cum.”
“Fine,” I groan. “I accept your terms.”
Have I ever cared for anyone as much as I seem to care for Prue? I highly doubt it. The extremes I’m putting myself through to keep her safe and sane are pathological.
I wouldn’t even do this shit for Wes, and I feel like I owe him my life, so what does that mean I owe Prue?
My soul? And why? Why do I care about her so much?
What has she done other than cause me a shit ton of problems, deep throat my cock and cum so hard around it that I still feel her pussy like a phantom limb.
Now she is torturing me by dangling good behavior in front of my face.
I can’t cum and she will stay put. Should be easy enough given the amount of pain my body is in right now, but as she strips down to just her underwear, curling up on my couch with a plate full of frozen pizza in her lap, I think I’m going to have to chop my balls off to keep from exploding.
She eats slowly, groaning with every bite like it’s the best damn thing she has ever had, despite the fact it was just frozen thirty minutes ago. But right now, she would probably eat grass while moaning just to make me suffer.
I’m not normally into being tortured. Light manhandling has happened in the bedroom, but nothing compared to what she does to me. My shoulder still throbs from where she bit me, and I stabbed myself in front of her father like a fucking psychopath.
“I’ve never had frozen pizza before. It’s disgustingly yummy,” she says, putting the plate on my coffee table and her feet in my lap. “Ever gotten a foot job?”
“No.”
“Want one?”
“I can’t cum, remember?”
“I didn’t say cum, but a little light edging might be fun.” She grins.
“You’re evil. Pure, evil.”
“And you like it.” She laughs, nudging my hardening dick with her toes. “Come on, I’ve never given a foot job before and with my new tattoo, I bet it would look so hot.”
“Prue. I’m exhausted. I doubt I could cum if I was allowed to.”
“And you aren’t allowed to. Not as long as you want me to stay put.” She flashes me the evilest smile that makes my cock even harder. “I, however, get to cum as many times as I want.”
“Jesus,” I groan. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I pull it out and see Wes’s name, I get even more annoyed. I answer it anyways, if only to distract myself from the fact Prue is half naked on the other end of my couch, with her foot in my lap. “Hey,” I say into the phone.
“So, I heard this interesting story from Aaron today.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Wes.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Prue and I’m pretty sure she’s the devil in pink panties and a white bra.”
“Not for long,” Prue whispers, and I get to helplessly watch as she undoes her bra.
“How did you two meet?”
“I called her a stuck-up bitch at a party and have been trying to make up for it every day since.”
She slips off her panties, taking a seat on my coffee table directly in front of me. Spreading her legs apart, letting me get a good look at her perfect little pussy. My cock leaks in my jeans.
“Seems like you’re doing an awful job,” Wes says on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, just fucking terrible,” I mutter as Prue cups her tit. “Apparently, a busted cheek, crack ribs, mild concussion and stab wound haven’t been enough.”
Prue rolls her eyes as she pulls at a nipple.
“Jesus, dude,” Wes says. “What the fuck?”
“It’s not from her,” I clarify as Prue’s other hand drops between her legs. “She hurts me in much worse ways.”
“Does it hurt?” Prue asks softly, circling her clit. “Your cock claims otherwise.”
“You’re doing drugs again, aren’t you?” Wes asks for the second time today. “Fuck, Ben. We’ve been through this before. Was Janet not a big enough lesson for you? You had to go find another girl to shoot up with?”
“Janet has nothing on her.” I laugh. “I honestly can’t believe I let that girl convince me to do heroin. I would do far worst things for Prue.”
Prue’s mouth hangs open as she rubs her clit. Her juices seep from her opening and my control is slipping.
“Are you fucking high right now?”
“No. Just in extreme agony.”
“Do you need help? A hospital? The cops?” Wes’s voice is laced with concern, but I have no idea how to reassure him everything is fine right now, as my eyes focus on Prue naked in front of me, touching herself.
“No,” I say softly. “I think… I think I’m in love with her.”