Chapter 9
Orion
I can’t believe she’s here in my room … with a damn knife against my throat.
This is a dream come true.
I gulp. “Fuck. Do it.”
The blade pushes farther into my skin, forcing my head up, and I meet her gaze head-on. Wow, she’s beautiful, so damn beautiful to look at. It’s almost a pity I won’t ever be able to see her killer face again.
“Do you want to die so badly?” she asks.
“Only by your hand.” My fingers reach up to touch her face, but she pulls back. “Why can’t I touch you?”
“Because you haven’t earned the right,” she growls, retracting the knife.
Still, a droplet of blood rolls down my skin, and the mere rush of nearly dying exhilarates me.
She slaps a piece of paper down on top of my notebook.
“This.”
I frown, inspecting the words on the paper, but before I can even reply, she’s already snatched my notebook off my desk right underneath my nose.
I spin in my seat. “Hey—”
She raises a heel and shoves it into my chest. “Stay.”
A hot blush takes over my face, and I hate it, because red really isn’t my color.
She reads my words without speaking them out loud, her eyes scanning each sentence with great care, and I feel honored she’s putting in so much effort.
She lowers her foot and lays the note on top of the booklet, then checks it over and over, before turning the pages toward me. “Did you or did you not write this?”
Should I tell the truth or lie?
“Because it sure looks like you did.”
After all … if we both get what we want the most.
“I’ll tell you …” I say, leaning back. “If you promise to kill me.”
She stares at me for a moment, and I stare right back at her, her face slowly tilting down.
She chuckles. “This is a joke, right?”
I raise a brow. “I’ve never been more serious.”
She folds her arms. “You want to die.” She snorts again. “That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”
“To someone who so easily takes life away at the snap of her fingers, you sure are easy to dismiss the idea.”
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t even know me.”
“But I want to,” I say. “Desperately.”
She pushes the knife against my neck right on top of my Adam’s apple, and I gulp in response.
“Do it quickly, then. Take what you want from me.”
“Why do you think I would want you dead?” she asks.
“Because you don’t just want—you need to kill—it’s in your nature. It’s who you are.”
“A killer,” she whispers, leaning in. “And you’re trying to persuade her to murder you.”
“I deserve it,” I say.
“For what? Leaving those notes?”
“Because you desire death,” I reply.
She pushes the knife underneath my chin, forcing me to look up into her eyes. “Tell me … what do you desire then, Orion?”
“To be your victim would be my greatest honor.”
I whimper when she sets her heel down on my knee, forcing the tip in so deep that all of my nerves awaken, and my cock stirs in my pants.
But it’s the devilish grin on her face that makes me wonder if I’m going to regret this.
“Fine then … You want to be my victim? Let’s play this game.”
Sunny
This guy is absolutely bonkers.
But I’ll make it worth his while.
I walk around his gloomy, eerily lit burgundy-colored room to admire his sense of style, touching the fabrics of his expensive chairs and bedding, which are perfectly kept. It’s not often I find people decorating their home with scantily clad Roman paintings.
“Do you like my room?” he asks. “You can stay the night, if you want.”
I snort and throw him a glance before I walk to his curtains and take off the ropes, checking them for sturdiness by giving them a quick whip. He jolts up and down in his seat. Magnificent.
“The noise downstairs …”
“It’s a party,” he replies.
I approach him with the ropes. “You like those, don’t you? Yet you’re not there.”
“I was occupied.”
I narrow my eyes. “With poetry.”
I throw the ropes around him.
“It’s important to me.”
I wrap them around and around until his chest is secured to the chair.
“So important you’d rather risk your life.”
I tighten it a little more until his ample muscles protrude from his shirt, and his breath becomes raspy.
“Poetry is my life. It’s the only thing that sustains me.”
I wrap the second rope around his neck.
“The only reason I’m still alive,” he murmurs.
“I’ll give you a reason,” I say, tightening the rope until it becomes a noose.
His muscles tense, fingers clenching against the seat as I watch the light slowly snuff out in his eyes.
“You wanted this, remember?” I lean in and whisper into his ear. “To have your breath taken away by me.”
He moans as his head tilts back farther, and his eyes roll back into his head.
I loosen my rein, and he sucks in a deep breath.
“Fuck.”
He talks too much and says too little.
Just like every other man.
All talk, no action.
I pull up my skirt and drag down my panties under his lustful gaze, pausing for a second to enjoy the agony on his face for not being able to touch me because he’s tied down, then push the button on his chair so his backrest is tilted downward so I can straddle him.
“Yes. I’m going to fuck with you.” I grab his eight-incher through his pants and stroke it. “And you’re going to enjoy.” Stroke. “Every.” Stroke. “Single.” Stroke. “Inch.” Stroke. “Of.” Stroke. “Depravity.”
I release him, and he groans with frustration. “Why not just finish me and get it over with?”
“Haven’t you heard? I make all of my victims suffer,” I muse, crawling up to his face until my thighs clench his neck. “And I want you in particular to suffer for not telling me who wrote me several notes.”
Was it him or Xavier? I need to know the truth, and he needs to learn a lesson. I have no fucking patience in dealing with men who refuse to give me what I want. If he won’t do what I ask, I’ll make him my fucking bitch instead.
He wants to die? I’ll give him death.
I push farther until my pussy covers his mouth.
“And since you won’t use your mouth for words, I’ll let you use it to please me instead. Now lick.”
Orion
The moment my tongue tastes her divine pussy, I want to kill myself for not trying this sooner. I should’ve been more annoying, more in her face, more insufferable, because apparently, it’s the only thing that gets her attention to the point of this beauty actually wanting to kill me.
Fuck.
Her taste is absolutely addictive, even more than the wine I’ve been sipping for years.
This. This is the nectar of the gods.
I swirl my tongue around and around, circling her slit while she rolls her hips around. Slowly, the noose begins to tighten, but I keep going to try to please her as best as I can while she suffocates me.
“This is what you wanted, right? To die at my hands,” she says, giggling. “Well, you’ve got your wish now.”
The rope tightens so much I can’t breathe.
“Don’t you dare retract that tongue.”
She swivels her hips on top of my face, smothering me with her hips, and fuck, if I died now, I’d be a happy man indeed.
When she releases the ropes, I suck in the air through my nostrils, then moan out loud.
“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”
She laughs again.
“I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”
“Don’t stop,” I moan, feeling demented for enjoying it.
She tightens the rope again, almost as if she’s insulted by my pleasure.
“You’re enjoying this a little too much,” she growls, burying my face between her legs. “Don’t talk. As a matter of fact, don’t breathe.”
She rolls her hips around my tongue, pleasuring herself on top of my face.
“Just take it like a good little slut,” she groans, tilting her head back.
Her juices drip down my chin, while she fucks herself on my low-life tongue, and my brain has escaped this plane of life already.
This … this is death because I am in heaven.
Suddenly, she grabs my cock, and I jolt in the chair, held back by the restraints she put me in.
“Hard already,” she observes. “I wonder how much harder you can get.”
She starts stroking me right through the fabric of my pants, and I’m losing my mind, absolutely losing it as I whimper for mercy.
Her wetness circles my tongue, clit thumping from the sheer pressure I’m trying to apply to give in to her needs.
“Pray for fucking mercy because I won’t stop until you tell me who wrote those notes.”
Just a little more.
Just a little longer.
This is the kind of death warriors remember.
The kind I’ve dreamed of all my life.
This goddess’s pussy has drenched my mouth without being allowed to breathe.
I am hers. God, I am so fucking hers. All I want to do is satisfy her wicked cravings and die for her.
When she finally releases the noose again, my lungs still suck in the much-needed oxygen, despite my mental protests.
Goddammit.
“That’s it. Breathe. Just a little bit of air. That’s enough.”
She tightens the rope again and continues gyrating on top of me, smothering my face with her delectable pussy. I want nothing more than to drown in it.
Is death by pussy even a thing? I will make it a thing.
And if I survive … this will still feed me for days.
Oh, the poet in me is screaming for words right now, but she won’t allow me to say them.
“Keep that tongue on my clit,” she growls. “Stop thinking and do what I tell you to do.”
Fuck. Yes, ma’am.
“Fuck,” she mewls, crushing my head with her thighs as she clenches.
She grips my package so tightly I squeal, but she silences me with her thighs.
“You said you wanted to die, now take it. Take it like a good boy. That’s it.”
She zips me down and pulls out my hard-on, stroking me until my balls tighten.
“Fuck,” I whimper underneath her.
“I didn’t say you could talk.”
She tightens the noose again, and my head begins to spin. My nails dig into the chair’s armrests as she continues to stroke me until I can barely hold it.
“Don’t you dare come,” she growls. “I want to use you as my personal stress relief toy.”
She rubs herself on top of my nose while shoving my face between her crevice, forcing me to lick out her pussy while she squeezes the life out of my shaft.
The pain shoots up all through my body and back to my balls, and when she grasps them, I swear I’m a goner.
“Go on, then. Whimper for me.”
She squeezes my balls so tightly I let out a squeak, and she laughs.
“Good boy.”
My hard-on bobs up and down from her sheer cruelty. This is what I want. This is what I’ve always been looking for—a goddess like her to stomp out the will to live. But this is a very special, alternative route, I must admit.
“You want to keep your secret? Tell me or don’t tell me the truth, I will find out … one way or another.” She squeezes my balls and the rope so harshly I nearly faint.
Suddenly, she releases both, and I can feel the oxygen filling my goddamn body, invigorating my cock with greed. Greed for more, so much fucking more.
She slaps my shaft, and I yelp, but she shoves her clit into my mouth instead.
“I’m gonna come, and you’re going to lap it all up,” she groans, rubbing herself on my face. “God, it feels so good to fuck with you. I’m going to leave you drained and spent.”
Fuck yes, I’m nearly ready to beg for her to just give it to me so I can die in peace.
She tightens the reins again, my throat clamped shut as she uses me to her heart’s content. Her clit thumps against my tongue, and she moans out loud.
She’s coming. I can feel it.
Fuck, it’s so hot.
The throbbing continues, and I lap it all up as her wetness pours out of her slit. My tongue spears her, desperate for more of these delicious juices.
Until she squeezes my balls so tightly, I nearly explode.
“Now beg,” she hisses as she slowly lowers herself to sit on my chest, still suffocating me.
The noose is tightening, harder, harder, squeezing the life out of me.
“Kill. Me.”
“No.”
She laughs so cruelly beautiful, it’s almost poetic.
“Beg.”
I did and I would, forever more, but I can barely even speak, let alone react.
I’m tied down and completely at her mercy, just like she wanted.
“Please …” I whimper.
She grabs my shaft instead and rubs me so fast I can barely take it. “You will tell me the truth, or I’ll never finish you.”
“Yes,” I murmur.
She tightens it again, and the hormones surging through my body have me feeling meek and willing to beg for something other than death for the first time in my life.
Fuck.
I want her to finish me, but with an orgasm, not with murder.
What’s happening to me?
My eyes burst open as her fingers wrap around my shaft, meticulously jerking me off until my veins pop and I’m ready to combust.
Then she releases me, and I whimper in response.
“You thought I was finished?” she asks. “I told you to beg for it, but you still don’t understand. I’ll never stop until I have what I want.”
The rope is tightened around my neck, siphoning the very life out of me.
“I’m giving you what you want. Now tell me who wrote those notes.”
“It wasn’t me,” I say with a raspy voice.
“Who was it?”
I huff. “Xavier.”
Her eyes flicker with interest, and she releases my dick from her violent grasp.
I don’t know if she believes me. For all she knows, I could be lying through my teeth.
But at this moment, all I want is for those precious hands to continue their moral destruction. My mind is reeling, obsessed with the mere idea of coming from her suffocation, her wish to kill me.
It’s too much.
“Please,” I beg.
She grabs my cock, thrusting it into her own hand. “If you want to die so badly, then come.”
The asphyxiation reaches a peak, and my eyes roll into the back of my head as the cum shoots from the tip, while the whimpers stuck in my throat refuse to leave my body, just like my soul.
The noose unfurls, and I suck in the breath like an addict, wishing for just another second of whatever fucked-up debauchery this was. She keeps jerking me off until I’m fully spent, then gathers the cum off my belly and brings it to my mouth.
“Now open up those lips, pretty prince,” she muses.
Prince?
A blush spreads on my cheeks as I part my mouth and lick the cum off her fingers when she dips them inside. I truly, utterly love how demeaning it is.
I would do anything for this woman.
Anything she tells me to, as long as she’s the one to end it all.
She pulls the noose off my neck and slaps my cheek. “Thanks for finally telling me the truth, little princy.”
She crawls off me and lifts her panties back into place, then pats down her skirt like nothing ever happened, while I’m still tied to my chair with a royally disgraced shirt covered in my own cum.
“What? That’s it?” I mutter, completely out of it.
She walks back to the window through which I presume she crawled in. “Yup.”
“So you’re not going to kill me?”
She smiles. “I’m a serial killer, Orion, not a psychopath.”
I tighten my muscles so harshly that the ropes around my body snap.
She pauses, and her eyes widen in shock, as if she didn’t expect that I could easily break them. I was just playing along because I loved what she was doing to me.
Now I’m disappointed.
“Why not?” I lament as she quickly crawls out the window before I can get up. “And I thought we were having so much fun.”
“Write me one of your poems.” She winks, and then she’s gone.