Chapter 22
Efren
As someone steeped in my own depravity, I’ve never struggled to recognize it in someone else. I often wonder if it’s something that was passed down to us through genetics or just the way our environments molded us so we could survive.
Alma and I are survivors. We’ve both been searching for a small piece of our identity so that we can find a purpose in this world. It’s why her eyes flicker to the bruises still visible on me, but she pushes her empathy aside.
Lifting my hands in surrender, I lower my knees to the ground. Her hand with the gun in it trembles, and I let out a small laugh. Her nostrils flare, and the weapon steadies in her hand.
I picked this room for a reason. I’ve seen the things she’s been googling on her phone the last few weeks.
What is the difference between a dominatrix and a sadist?
I don’t know, try and we’ll find out.
Why do men like being dominated?
Why not?
Is dominance trauma related?
Yes. Let’s trauma bond.
“What are you doing here?” she asks again with more confidence.
I don’t answer as I take in her outfit. The fishnet tights, the baby-blue mesh see-through dress and her nipples hardening underneath.
“What are you doing here?” I ask playfully.
That twitch in her nose returns. Her eyes a mix of desire and fire. Crazy looks sexy on her. I want nothing more than for her to unleash that wrath on me.
“I’m in charge now.” Her words cut through the silence. “I’m asking the questions now, not you.”
She walks backward until she reaches the large wall of toys, the gun still aimed at me. I recognize most of them—restraints, paddles, floggers, ball gags.
Anticipation thrums beneath my skin. If I wanted to get up and take control of this situation, I could. But where’s the fun in that? I watch as Alma’s fingers dance between the barbed wire flogger and braided whip. The moment she chooses the whip, I feel the charge between us snap tight.
She studies it, her brows pinched in confusion, lips parting slightly as if tasting the moment. It’s too fucking adorable. I can’t stop the laugh that slips out. Her cheeks flush, and she covers the embarrassment with a scowl that only makes me want to push her further.
“Do you want me to show you how to use that?” I offer.
She clenches the leather grip and snaps it free in one clean line, hitting the concrete floor next to me.
She swings it down again, and the whip cracks against the floor, the sound ricocheting off the mirrors, mimicking that of a gun shot.
I can see the way the power plays in her eyes.
The excitement and thrill of dominance building in her.
“Did you do it?” she asks, her voice shaking. “Did you kill him?”
I don’t reply because it’s more than a yes-or-no answer. A shrug seems to suffice, but that only enrages her.
“Answer me!” Her voice carries, and the whip hits again.
“I planned the whole fucking thing.”
A partial truth. To see if a memory bites back from the depths of her brain. But there’s nothing, just her wild eyes filled with anger and another lash of the whip.
“Move to the chair.” She motions the gun still in her other hand toward the electric chair.
I look at it in the corner and then back to her, my brow arched.
“That chair?”
“Yes! Get naked and get in the chair,” she demands
I swallow back the laugh that comes and move to the chair, kick off my shoes, and slide my hands out of the sleeves of my shirt, freeing myself of the cotton fabric before throwing it onto the floor.
Her eyes soften when she takes in the bruises.
After Savino beat me, he was generous enough to drop me off in front of the hospital.
So fucking generous. My jaw locks at Vidal’s little test and how long it had separated me from her.
The look in her eyes is too soft. I don’t want her soft. I want the parts of her she thinks she has to hide. Her anger. Wrath. The pure, raw, dark feminine energy that courses through her veins. I want to feel it all and be consumed by that darkness that lurks inside of her.
“Don’t you fucking dare pity me, Alma. Don’t forget what I did to Esteban. Don’t forget I’m a cold-blooded killer,” I growl as I undo my pants and slide them to the floor. “You better take control now, or I’ll disarm you in a matter of seconds and—”
Her eyes catch on my hardness pressing through the cotton fabric of my briefs. I inch forward, looking between her and the whip.
“—then I’ll use that on your ass.”
Her nostrils flare as she closes the distance and lashes out quicker than I’m prepared for. The cold steel kisses my cheek. The weight of the pistol cracks against my jaw, snapping my head to the side. My pulse spikes, and my violent fantasies consume me.
I sit back down, watching her as she takes in all of me. Step by step, she walks towards me until she’s standing above me. Grabbing my hand, she guides it over her thigh.
“You know what I think, Efren?”
I feel the smoothness of her skin, the heat of her body. That sweet smell of her envelopes me.
“I think I’ve always had control over you.” She laughs, dropping the whip.
Her fingers sink into my hair as she yanks my head back. My neck strains as I look up into her darkening eyes, burning through me. She presses the gun to my temple.
“I want you to eat this pussy like a good boy.”
Fuck. Me.
Did my little kitten just say good boy? Those two words unravel me. I lift her leg to the arm of the chair and rip off her thong. She gasps, but I don’t give her time to regret anything as I bury my face into her bare pussy, taking in the sweet scent of her.
She keeps her fingers laced through my hair, the grip tightening when I run the barbell of my tongue piercing against her clit.
“You taste so sweet,” I murmur against her folds before I plunge my tongue inside her.
Her body comes undone. One, two, three times, I apply my barbel ring to her tender flesh in fleeting strokes.
“More,” she cries, pulling my hair harder.
I slide two fingers inside her, thrusting in and out as I nibble on her clit.
“Fuck. Like that.” She moans.
“Your tight little cunt is going to explode around my fingers.”
“Fuck you.” she pants.
I laugh and let my fingers power inside of her. I lick her swollen clit, alternating as I bite gently on the nub. There’s no holding back. Her body craves this. She was never meant for fragility. She was made to demand her every desire.
She pulls harder on my hair, pain exploding through my body in the most satisfying way.
I add one more finger and pound into her harder until I’ve pulled her under that wave.
Until I feel her liquid heat flooding into my mouth and her moans echoing through the room.
She releases my hair, and her legs shake as I continue to eat up her orgasm.
Her leg drops, and she falls onto me, straddling me. That addictive smell of hers puts me in a chokehold. I need her to claim me tonight. Own me. Command me to fuck her until she’s crying. My hard dick grazes her soaking cunt.
“You feel that. That’s what you do to me,” I mutter.
Her body stiffens, and she goes to move, but I pull her back down.
“Beg me for it, Alma, and I’ll be a good boy for you,” I whisper into the crook of her neck before I suck it into my mouth.
She whimpers, her nails digging into the back of my neck, the gun still clenched in her hand. My mouth moves lower until her tits align with it. I lick around the hardening peak. Her body roars back to life, a fractured moan catching in her throat.
I knock the gun out of her hand. She stands and rushes for it, but not before I grab her hips and slam her back down onto me. She yelps.
“It’s Daddy’s turn to take control,” I whisper.
I spread her thighs and free my throbbing cock. Gliding it over her folds, I feel her body loosen and her need peak. My mouth devours the side of her neck, and her hand massages the crown of my cock.
“Efren. Put it inside me. Now,” she begs
I lift her and slowly glide my tip inside.
“God. It hurts,” she cries out.
“That’s just the tip, Kitten.”
I glide in farther, her tightness closing in on me. Her breathing hitches, and small whimpers tremble from her chest as I push in deeper. All the way until she’s sitting on me, my dick fully sheathed inside her. And it feels so damn good. She feels so damn good.
“Ahhh… Yes.” She moans as I thrust inside her. Sweat falls down her body, and I’m pissed at myself for not keeping her facing me. I want to see her face right now.
“You like that. My cock tearing through your tight pussy?”
Her ass grinds against me, her back arching, and I lift her ass, tilting her forward, pulling out slowly, then slamming my cock back inside her. I lift and lower her a few more times. My hands overflow with her ass, my gaze fixated on the view of my dick disappearing into her.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Her moans are my driving force. I pound into her harder, her ass slapping against my thighs. Blood rushes to my balls. I’m on the edge, ready to drag her over with me. I reach my hand in front of her and rub my thumb over her clit.
“Say my name.” I strain as I hold back my release.
She shakes her head, and I pound into her harder.
“Say it, Alma.”
“Oh God, Efren.” She moans.
I pinch her clit, and she clamps around me, throwing her head back and cumming on my cock. The warmth, the heat, her moans—they all pull me under. I come hard, my own head falling back as her name rips free from my throat.
“Fuck. Alma. Fuck me.”
Spilling into her and filling her throbbing pussy with my seed, I watch her head fall against my shoulder, both our bodies slick with sweat. For a second, there’s nothing.
No fucked up past to bond us. No fractured memories. No right or wrong. Just my heart beating against her back.
She’s mine.
Leaning down, I wipe the blue hair from her face and kiss the corner of her mouth.
“Let’s go home, Kitten.”