Chapter 28 #2
My mouth drops wide open, and all I can do is sputter at him, only to gasp when he throws it across the room, landing directly in the small trash bin next to his computer desk.
“Seriously?” I hiss, giving him a filthy look. “You’re jealous of a fake dick? You know I can just go buy a new one, right?”
He reaches in the bag again, and I roll my eyes to the ceiling in exasperation, muttering beneath my breath, “Jesus Christ, what are you, Mary fucking Poppins?”
I practically choke when he pulls out a new dildo—one that’s incredibly familiar, despite having never seen it as a toy before.
Because it’s an exact fucking replica of Dread’s dick.
“I— Wh— D-did you seriously get a mold of your dick?” I sputter out.
I’m frozen as his long legs eat up the five feet of distance between us, stopping just as his chest brushes against mine. He’s so tall, he’s forced to dip his head, black strands falling in his eyes as he stares down at me.
“Even when I’m not around, it will only be me who fucks you,” he repeats, his rough voice stooping low. “Is that understood, darling?”
I can only gape at him, but he must be confident I’ll listen, because he tips his chin up, nodding toward the bed behind me.
“You said you think of me when you fuck yourself. I want you to show me.”
“What?” I squeak, glancing over my shoulder toward the bed then back to him, as if to confirm it’s real, that he’s not hallucinating.
Maybe it’s just me who's hallucinating, because this can’t actually be happening.
“I want you to get on the bed,” he says slowly. “Spread your legs, show me your pretty pussy, and fuck yourself with my cock.”
“Wha— I am not doing that.”
A threatening look hardens his features. My stomach twists itself into a knot while my mind races, desperately trying to figure out how the fuck I’m going to get out of this.
He just… He cannot be fucking serious.
His mouth dips lower, and that simple movement is like pressing the button to turn on a vacuum, sucking all the air out of the room.
“I don’t recall giving you a choice.”
My mouth moves, though no words escape. He tips his chin up again, motioning for me to back up.
“Get back on the bed.”
I grit my teeth, frustrated tears burning the backs of my eyes.
I knew I was going to regret that confession, but for some stupid reason, I never considered he’d make me reenact it. I should’ve fucking known better. It’s Dread, so of course he’s going to make me humiliate myself, and I handed him the perfect way to do it.
Snarling, I turn and climb onto the bed, my movements angry and stilted. I can’t tell who I’m more pissed with—him or myself.
I sit at the head of the bed and lean back against the wall, my knees bent and feet flat on the mattress, though I ensure they're positioned in front of my center to conceal it from his prying eyes, my thighs firmly pressed together.
He curls his bottom lip between his teeth as he gets on the bed before me, setting the dildo and vibrator in front of my legs. Then, he reaches into the pocket of his joggers and pulls out his phone.
My throat tightens, but I’m not even surprised he wants to record it. Just another piece of collateral to weaponize and control me with.
My heart is pounding, and I’m so fucking nervous, I could vomit. For several moments, I can only stare down at the toys, urging myself to just grab them and get it over with.
Except, I can’t move. I’m paralyzed, and for whatever reason, this is so much harder than fucking him.
It’s only me making myself vulnerable now, only me exposing myself and performing something incredibly intimate for him.
The bed shifts, and I raise my eyes right as he leans forward past my bent knees, placing his hands on either side of my hips, caging me in. He tilts his head and peers down at me, his lips only an inch from mine.
“Spread them,” he whispers, the soft command sending a chill racing down my spine.
The effect is instantaneous. My blood warms, heat spreading throughout my extremities, and my clit pulses with need.
Swallowing, I hesitate for a beat before letting my knees fall to the sides. His T-shirt bundles at my waist, allowing him a clear view of my pussy.
However, he doesn’t look, holding his position. His lips twitch, approval radiating from his heated stare.
“Good,” he whispers. “Now, feel your cunt, baby. Is it wet for me?”
The anxiety twisting my stomach ebbs, and my confidence slowly creeps back in. It’s reminiscent of when I stood in the locker room and decided to take back my control. Even if it slipped through my fingers the moment his lips captured mine, my power didn’t.
I held on to it then, so I can do the same now.
Lips parting, I soften my gaze and stare up at him through my lashes. I hear the distinct sound of the bedsheets tightening in his fists, and it’s the last boost I needed to reach between my thighs and dip my middle finger inside.
I’m already soaked, and I don’t even need to answer his question verbally when a loud squelching emits from my center. Rather than trying to mask the sound, I drag my finger out and swirl it around, ensuring he can hear exactly how wet I am.
His lips part, and his next breath is choppy, shuddering out of him. Still, he resists looking.
“Good girl,” he rasps. “Now, grab the toy and put it inside you.”
The dildo is just outside of arm’s reach, forcing me to lean forward to grab it. My lips brush against his, an electric current zipping between them, but I’m settling back against the wall almost instantly, denying him the opportunity to kiss me.
The corner of his mouth curls as his eyes drop to my lips for a beat before dragging them back up again, causing my stomach to flip once more. He’s amused, but I know he’s also fucking starving.
Holding his gaze, I use both hands to drag the blunt tip of the dildo up and down my slit, wetting it and evoking more vulgar sounds.
My chest heaves, my core pulsing from the mix of pleasure and lust. When I slowly push it inside me, I clamp down on my bottom lip, a low whine leaking past my teeth.
His stare drops again, this time to my chest. The veins in his neck and arms protrude, his knuckles bleached white from how tightly he fists the sheet.
The faintest of trembles racks his body, and I know he’s fighting not to look.
I’m not sure if he’s edging himself or if he’s waiting until I’m fully relaxed, but regardless, I’m grateful for his proximity.
Like this, it feels like he’s just as involved as if he were fucking me himself.
But the moment he retreats and starts recording me, it’ll leave me a little colder, a little lonelier.
He shifts his weight onto one hand while the other dips beneath the T-shirt.
Flattening his palm, he glides it up my abdomen, pushing the fabric along with it.
My abdomen visibly contracts, and my pussy clenches around the dildo while a deep shudder rolls through me, his skin on mine dragging out an electric current strong enough to set my insides aflame.
Brow furrowed, I drop my gaze to watch him bundle the shirt up past my breasts, my arms pressing them together and pushing my hardened nipples farther out.
The sight of his T-shirt framing them, coupled with my hands working the dildo inside me while Dread crowds over me, is erotic enough to send a wicked pulse of pleasure through my pussy.
I look up just as he does. Our eyes collide, and instantly, sparks fly, like two swords clashing amid a brutal war.
My mouth parts, allowing a moan to escape, whispering its sweet melody across his lips. He answers the siren’s call with a faint growl deep in his chest. His hand moves to my rib cage and cups the underside of my tit, pushing it up just as his head shifts lower.
Keeping his stare locked on mine, he pauses when his lips are less than an inch from my nipple.
A wildfire rages within his irises, the tips of the flames lashing at his pupils.
I don’t know what he’s searching for, but he must find it, because another beat, and he sticks out his tongue, licking the hardened peak.
It shoots straight to my clit, sending my spine arching off the wall with a whimper.
With one final shove, over two-thirds of the dildo sinks inside me, filling me to the brim.
My eyes flutter closed, and my head thumps back against the wall as pleasure consumes me. Whatever anxiety lingered inside me completely dissipates. With my back bowed, I pump the toy in and out in long pulls and quick thrusts, shuddering cries spilling from my tongue.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his hot breath fanning across my nipple. “You’re getting so good at taking my cock.”
While I understand his salacious words, my brain can no longer comprehend how to speak. A mess of cluttered syllables tumbles out of my mouth instead.
He sits back on his heels and grabs his phone from the bed, his thumb moving over the screen.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as he points the phone directly between my spread legs and then hits record.
I bite my bottom lip. There’s still a faint whisper in the back of my mind, uncomfortable with him recording me, but the eroticism of what I’m doing has taken over, drowning out the voice of reason.
“Did you fuck your cunt just like this when you thought of me?” he asks, his large palm reaching to grip the underside of my thigh, as if he can’t help but touch me.
I shake my head, prompting him to glance up at me.
He cocks his head, seemingly confused, until he glances at the other toy. “You used the vibrator too? At the same time?”
A single, choppy nod is all I’m capable of.
His answering chuckle is wicked as he grabs the purple vibrator between us and switches it on.
“Such a fucking greedy girl,” he says, his tone almost admonishing.
I nod again, earning another low laugh that travels straight to my core. It shouldn’t sound as sexy as it does, but it has a visceral effect on me, anyway.
“Show me, baby,” he encourages.