I swallow, tears pricking my eyes.
“Such a gentleman, letting me look at the stars as you murder me,” I mouth off, forcing the words through my tightened throat.
I really need to shut the fuck up. But I can’t seem to stop myself. Apparently, when I’m in a life-threatening situation, all I can manage to do is make it worse.
Some might call it fearlessness, but I just call it stupidity.
He supports himself on one hand as the other reaches behind him. I open my mouth, gearing up for more insults, when his arm reappears, a gun in his hand.
Another audible click of my teeth later, and I’m back to being choked silent with fear.
“You let a man touch you in here. Make you come,” he states, his tone bled dry of emotion. “Normally, I’d replace his fingers with my own, but I think you need something else to teach you a lesson.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I rush out, my eyes widening as he points the gun to my chest. “I-I’m really, rea—”
“Shh,” he hushes. “You’re not sorry yet, little mouse. But you will be.”
Chapter 16
The Manipulator
M
illions of thoughts run through my head on what I could possibly say to get out of this. I’m sorry clearly wasn’t good enough.
“You’re going to shoot me?”
My bladder is threatening to explode, and the knowledge that I might die in a puddle of pee brings tears to my eyes.
“I’ve already said I’m not going to kill you,” he responds, his tone dripping with impatience. He punctuates his response by dragging the tip of the gun down through the valley of my breasts. The gun continues its path down my stomach, stopping at the edge of my leggings.
“Take these off.”
My lip trembles and a single tear slides down my temple.
“Please, don’t do this.”
He cocks a brow, and the act is damning. He looks so damn unimpressed with my pleas, causing another tear to trace the path of the first.
“Now, Adeline.”
Sniffing, I finally listen. Hooking my thumbs in the band of my leggings, I pull them down. I’m only able to reach mid-thigh before his body gets in the way.
He takes the hint, lifting up and ripping the leggings down the rest of the way.
More tears follow suit.
“T-shirt next,” he orders, jerking his gun to signal his order. I lift up and slide the shirt over my head, laying back down with a huff.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes tracing over the curves of my body. Fucker is lucky I’m wearing my black lace set tonight.
He doesn’t fucking deserve it, either.
He leans over me again, his mouth kissing the last bruise he left on my shoulder.
“Do you know what these mean?” he whispers, kissing another spot. I shudder beneath his touch, electricity sprouting from the point of contact and dancing across my skin.
I don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“They mean that I own you. Marked you as mine.”
The tip of his tongue darts out, trailing my flesh as he moves down towards my breasts.
“Don’t—”
His teeth pierce the swell of my left breast before I can finish my pointless demand. I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut as he leaves another mark on my skin.
Once he’s satisfied, he renews his path with his mouth, leaving hickeys on both of my tits and several across my stomach. And all I can do is just take it. Because that gun in his hand is keeping me pliant—just like he planned.
When my body is well and abused from his teeth and tongue, he lifts up and forces my thighs open. I strain against him, but it only hurts me in the end. He’s too strong.
His pointer finger curls in the edge of my thong, tracing the lining from the juncture of my thigh, down towards my center. Before he reaches my clit, he pulls the material out and runs his finger up and down the fabric, his finger a mere inch from my pussy.
I want to cover my face because I know he’s feeling my body’s betrayal.
“These are soaked,” he rasps out, his lips still wet from his saliva.
“That’s called discharge,” I snap, hoping my lie turns him off. He smiles in response.
“As much as I hate to say this to you, I’m no stranger to a woman’s pussy and what it feels like when it weeps for me.”
I curl my lip in disgust. “Last time I checked, most girls weep because they’re upset. Take a hint.”
He chuckles. “Little mouse, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He then pulls my thong to the side, baring my pussy to him, and the arousal glistening from within. He mutters a curse under his breath as his eyes devour every inch of me. Another tremble of my lips has me biting down on the traitorous flesh.
Keeping one finger hooked in my underwear, he points the gun in my face with the other. I recoil, pinching my eyes shut and letting loose a startled yelp.
“Relax, I just want you to suck on it.”
It takes several seconds for his words to process. To process that he didn’t pull the trigger, and I’m not dead. When they do, my eyes snap open, and I glare at him.
“Why the fuc—” He taps the tip of the gun on my mouth, effectively cutting me off. The rest of my words dissipate as he slides the gun across my lips, as if he’s painting them with lipstick.
“Suck,” he orders, his tone deepening with finality. Closing my eyes against more tears, I open my mouth and let him guide the gun between my teeth. I squeeze my lids tighter as I twirl my tongue over the cold metal, cringing from the nasty taste.
“Such a good girl,” he says, pulling the dripping gun out, a trail of saliva following until it snaps.
My entire body locks when I feel the cool metal slide against my clit. I flinch against the foreign touch of an incredibly dangerous weapon.
Pure terror washes over me, and it takes all of my strength to keep from full on sobbing. Holding a gun to my head is far less intimidating than it being held between my legs. A gunshot to the head is instant death, but this? This would be slow and painful. Torturous.
He leans down, close enough for his hot breath to fan across my core. I lift up for a better view just as he looks up at me through long, thick lashes, his mismatched eyes sparkling with delight. Right when I open my mouth to ask what he's doing, he sticks out his tongue, saliva pooling to the tip and dripping off onto my pussy.
"Can never be too wet, can you, little mouse?"
Sitting up, he circles my entrance with the tip of the gun, the metal slipping against my skin.
“Oh my God, please do—” This time, my words are cut off from the feel of him dipping the gun past my folds. Just the tip, but enough to close my throat, only allowing a startled squeak to escape.
He laughs cruelly. “You even sound like a mouse.”
I’d snap at him if I wasn’t frozen solid. I can’t look away. I just watch him push the gun inside me, my rounded eyes barely processing what I’m seeing. What I’m feeling.
Slowly, he works the gun inside me, drawing out both pleasure and pain. I clench my jaw, shuddering from his ministrations but refusing to make a sound. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
He works the weapon halfway in before the gun retreats to the very tip. I’m allowed a moment’s breath before he buries the entire barrel inside me. I suck in a sharp gasp and let my head fall back, no longer having the strength to watch.