“I want you to get on all fours on the floor,” I instruct.
She climbs down eagerly from the desk and gets into position, glancing at me over her shoulder.
The image of her with blood smeared over her body and her tight cunt and ass on display for me makes almost lose my mind. My cock strains at the thought of slamming into her tight little asshole without warning or any lube other than her own natural juices.
I claw back an ounce of control, knowing that would be a step too far—at least for Camilla’s first time. Instead, I drop to my knees behind her, holding the knife, and thrust every inch of my cock deep into her tight, wet heat.
Her cunt tightens around my shaft as if it’s trying to pull me deeper. I spread my fingers through the blood on her back and then bring the knife to her ass cheeks. Slowly, I drag the sharp edge in a circular motion as I inscribe my initial in her skin. The need to put my claim on her, a foreign yet clawing desire. “You will have my initials on your ass, so that you know you belong to me.”
She moans, but it’s tinged with pain as I finish the first letter G in her skin. And then I carve an N next to it. By the time I’m done, my cock is like a steel rod inside her cunt and she’s grasping me so tightly I’m not sure where she starts and I end.
“Fuck me, sir,” she begs, glancing at me over her shoulder.
I grasp her hips hard enough to bruise. The need to dominate and destroy and corrupt clawing at my insides. “I’ll do more than fuck you, Camilla. I’m going to tear you apart.” I thrust my hips in and out with violent movements, pounding her deep and hard despite knowing it’s her first time. “And you are going to take what I give you,” I grunt.
Despite the roughness, she arches her back as if inviting more. I focus on my bloody initials carved into her ass cheeks and almost come apart from the sight alone.
I spank her other cheek hard and she moans, her pussy getting wetter around my cock. “I want you to come on my cock,” I say, gripping her hips even harder as I pull her onto me. “I want you to prove to me what a dirty little pain slut you really are.”
She glances at me again over her shoulder. “Your dirty pain slut, sir.”
I growl and fuck her even harder and deeper than I believed possible, until she screams, “Fuck, yes, sir.” Warning me that the sadistic pleasures have taken her right over the edge of the cliff into a freefall. The tightness of her cunt becomes almost restrictive as her orgasm washes over her in waves.
Camilla’s body trembles violently from the intensity. Her eyes roll back and I can tell that she’s felt nothing like she’s feeling at that moment. The sounds of pure pleasure radiating through the basement.
I sink my teeth into her shoulder and pull her tight against me as I come apart. My seed filling her tight, virgin cunt. I can’t even find it in me to care that we didn’t use protection, as I brand her as mine.
Our labored breaths fill the echoing space as we both recover from our mutual orgasms. I pull my cock out of her reluctantly and stand, walking over to the sink by the wall to wash myself up.
There are no words I can find to say to her. Not after what just occurred. If she expected me to lie down on a soft blanket and snuggle, then she’s going to be disappointed. As I told her before, sex is merely a transaction.
And that’s when I hear her thudding footsteps rushing toward the stairs.
My brow furrows as I watch her run right out of the room in her bloodied shirt and barely put together skirt.Run, little girl,the monster inside of me goads. And yet a part of me feels disappointed that she’s running, as it proves that perhaps she’s not as depraved as me after all.
She’s a scared girl who can’t handle true sadism. I should have trusted my gut instinct, but the problem is now that I’ve had a taste of her, she’s not going to be able to escape that easily.
17
CAMILLA
“Where were you?” Nat asks as I approach our table in the cafeteria. “Did you forget you were supposed to meet us at the library?”
My heart pounds unevenly in my chest as I avoid her gaze. “I got sent to detention,” I lie, feeling sick to my stomach.
Elias is sitting next to her with his arm draped over her shoulders. A cruel smirk twists onto his lips. “I never took you for a rebel, Morrone.”
I glare at him, a part of me wishing things hadn’t changed between them. Granted, I’m thankful that Nat is no longer subjected to his torment, but now we have to endure his presence at every fucking meal. “Shut up, Elias.” I sit down in my usual seat opposite them.
Flashbacks of what I did with Professor Nitkin keep recurring over and over, and the stinging cuts I had to bandage beneath my shirt are an ever-present reminder. I ran as fast as I could from that basement all the way back to my dorm room, thankful I didn’t run into anyone I knew. Or at least, no one who paid me any attention.
The shirt I’d been wearing was so badly stained with blood that I threw it in the trash can, feeling insurmountable shame as I washed the blood from my skin in the shower. I can still see the way the water turned red as it swirled down the drain. And then once I was finished, I dried myself off and bandaged the cuts he’d inflicted, sobbing.
I wasn’t sobbing because of the pain or what we did, but because I can’t quite understand what occurred between us and why I liked it. Ever since, I’ve been trying to convince myself that I didn’t enjoy it, despite knowing that’s a lie.
There’s something very wrong with me.
“Camilla?” Adrianna says my name, brow creased.