A moan rumbles up my throat as his tongue licks at me, the sharp sting from the cut only making me wanton and needy for him again.
“Oh shit,” I hiss when his finger runs through my wetness, swirling in the cum he left inside me.
“Open your legs for anyone else, and they’ll know your mine, Hellion. Mine,” he repeats, bending his finger and sending a wave of pleasure racing through me.
Pulling his head back, he rips his finger from me and runs it over his initials, mixing my blood and his cum.
It’s like some fucked-up satanic ritual, and my eyes are glued to the patch of my skin he’s touching.
Suddenly ripped from his trance, he pushes to stand.
“Open,” he demands, holding his finger up, and my traitorous body follows orders like a good little princess.
His eyes flash with heat as I suck on his digit, swirling my tongue around just like I’d have done to his cock should he have given me the chance.
Pulling it out, he drags my bottom lip with it.
His eyes drop down my body, taking in my dress that’s pooled around my waist and my garter belt and stockings on show.
Pulling his cell from his pocket, he holds it up. His eyes find mine. There’s a challenge in them as he waits for me to tell him to stop.
But what’s the point? He’s already got one from the other night with my tits covered in his cum. What’s another to add to his ammunition to ‘ruin’ me?
Tilting my chin, I force a smirk onto my lips.
“Whore,” he breathes, but the word lacks the venom I’m sure he was hoping it would have.
“Better than an entitled cunt,” I throw back.
With one more look at his handiwork on my thigh, he does up his pants, spins on his heel and marches from the room.
“Fucking asshole,” I scream after him, and just before the door slams closed behind him, I swear I see his shoulders shake with his laugh.
Cunt.
I sag back against the wall, tilting my head up to the ceiling. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for. God certainly isn’t going to help me after all the shit I’ve pulled.
Glancing around the room for the first time since I was carried in here, I find a large black and white bathroom that would look quite at home in my house.
Making my way over to the toilet, I start pulling my bra and dress back up into place. The fabric brushes over my tender nipples and I wince.
There’s nothing gentle about being with Seb, that’s for sure.
His rough touches and wicked words feed something inside me, something I’ve been desperate for such a long time.
I knew something was missing. I guess that’s why I had no issues going through guy after guy trying to find it.
But that…
Whatever just happened in here, just like our two times in the graveyard… It was exactly what I wanted. The hate, the passion, the pain. All of it.
And fuck if I wouldn’t do it all over again if he were to barge back in here right now.
Pushing my messed-up hair from my face, I rest back and run those few minutes through my head over and over, my heart continuing to race as if it’s happening right now.
Aware that the door’s unlocked and anyone could come barging in, I finish what I’m doing and clean up, careful not to open up the cuts on my thigh more than they already are.
I stare at his handiwork, my feelings over the fact that he branded me like a fucking cow warring within me.