He lifts it up and massages the sticky evidence of my arousal between his fingers. “Choking and manhandling. Check.”
I look the other way and wish I could disappear into a hole and never crawl out for the rest of my life.
“Perhaps we can also add the kink of being given an ultimatum.” His face gets so close to mine that I can only breathe his intoxicating scent and minty breath. “You would never admit to wanting me unless you were in this position, would you?”
I’m about to snarl at him, but he strokes my own arousal down my nose, over the slope of my cheek, then presses his middle and ring fingers on the cushion of my lips.
My mouth parts and he slides them inside, forcing me to swallow my own arousal. He thrusts in with a power and control that turns me delirious. He presses on my tongue, then curls his fingers around it, rolling and smearing my arousal. It explodes on my taste buds like an aphrodisiac.
“Lucky for you, I’m very well equipped to play the role of your villain. I will drag out your kinks one by each bloody one.”
He pulls out his fingers all of a sudden and steps back with casual ease.
The loss of his touch leaves me cold for some reason.
“Now, to unlock other kinks.” His voice drops with a chilling edge. “Run.”
The challenge in his eyes strikes me in my bones and a shudder spreads through me for a different reason other than cold.
I don’t know what’s come over me or why I’m even entertaining his crazy.
Maybe it’s my own crazy.
Slowly, I stand on unsteady legs, wearing nothing but my panties and boots, and I do the exact opposite of what’s logical.
I run.
16
LANDON
My muscles tense and ripple at the promise of a hunt.
Blood rushes to my limbs and pumps my cock with extra attention.
The prospect of a chase makes me nearly come in my trousers like a pubescent.
Problem is, I’ve never had this feeling before.
Yes, I get off on hunting, just like I indulge in a thousand other kinks as a sexual outlet. However, it never used to be this thrilling and…positively riveting.
I inhale, filling my lungs with the smell of candle wax and the faint, gripping scent of Mia’s pussy.
However, I don’t move.
My little muse has been such a good sport, though reluctantly and only after I relentlessly pushed her buttons, so I’ll give her the courtesy of a head start.
My gaze remains locked on the back door, where she ran to the back garden—or more like a mini jungle.
The candlelight casts an ominous shadow on the makeshift living area, subconsciously creating my favorite mood.
I bring up my fingers that are still sticky and lick them one by one.
Pussy as a concept has only ever served as a hole to be fucked. Despite the different colors and shapes of cunts I’ve seen in my lifetime, I’ve never relished touching them. Never gotten off on giving oral and have always made it a point that I’d only fuck. If they wanted something else, I was not the guy for it.
And yet, my lips are twitching for a taste of Mia’s sweet little pussy. My blood definitely chose my cock as its preferred organ when I was toying with her just now.
Her little gasps still ring in my ears. Her widened eyes and parted lips will be masturbation material for a few days.
That is, if I don’t trigger another more interesting reaction out of her. By the end of tonight, I will have done the devil’s work in converting another soul to the dark side.
Though Mia has never been innocent and definitely scores high on the darkness scale. Let’s just say I’m unleashing her full potential.
Sliding a hand in my pocket, I follow her trail. The back garden is like an unkempt jungle, with huge old trees, half-dead branches hanging like skeletons, and suspicious mushrooms lying around.
Pretty sure a few aimless ghosts fly overhead, moaning about having a subpar location and few to no visitors on a daily basis.
The moonlight plays hide-and-seek with the clouds and night owls scream in the distance, adding some DJing to the whole creepy vibe.
Four out of five. Would recommend it for satanic rituals.
I slip through the fallen branches and the broken trees that were probably brought down by malicious lightning. Murdered leaves crunch beneath my designer shoes and I don’t make the effort to conceal the sound of my approaching steps.
The best way to smoke out a mouse? Scare her to fucking death.
I want to see the fear mixed with excitement on her delicate face. Just like a moment ago when she squirmed and gasped and soaked my fingers even when she was horrified about the prospect of being choked.