Page 84 of Monster's Edge

“You know better, Rose.”

I lick my lips. Do I? Is that something I know? Yeah, I suppose I do. Ian doesn’t like it when I do things the easy way. That’s one of the most fucked-up things about him.

Yep, that’s right. I don’t think it’s particularly weird that he’s in the mob or that he kills people who piss him off or that he came home tonight covered in blood: I care that he’s pushing me in the bedroom and that he makes me try harder than I want to.

I don’t alwayswantto try hard.

Sometimes I want to take the easy way out. Right now, though, I’m kneeling in front of his dick and I know that if I’m a good girl for him, he’s going to give me what I want. I just have to do as he pleases. I have to give him a little bit of whathewants in order to get whatIneed.

And so, I lean forward. I reach for his pajama pants with my teeth, and I tug slowly down. My hands move to his thighs, and I grab the fabric, pulling it down as my face is greeted by his thick, hard dick.

Leaning forward, I swipe my tongue along the bottom of his shaft. He hisses. Good. I know that he likes this. As I start blowing Ian, he steps out of the pajama pants and kicks them away. My hands grip his thighs and I slide them up so I can play with his balls as I lick him.

I really do love everything about this: being his toy, being his little slut. Ian treats me like I’m just a body to him and for some fucked-up reason, there’s a part of me that eats it up. Maybe it really is because I’m messed up in the head. Maybe it is because of my traumatic childhood. Maybe...

He grabs my hair and shoves me deeper onto his cock.

“Open your eyes, fllower,” he tells me. “I want to see you cry.”

He’s holding me so hard and deep on his dick that I feel like I’m going to choke, but I don’t care because if I die like this, at least I’ll die happy.

2

Ian doesn’t tortureme for long. He keeps holding my hair, but he starts fucking my face. He’s taking complete charge of the situation. It’s out of my hands now. Any control I thought I had is gone. He’s the one in charge now. He’s the one who is ruling everything that’s happening.

And there’s a lot happening.

I probably shouldn’t be enjoying this. I’m on my knees and they’re starting to hurt a little bit. My body is tense from being in the same position, too. I’m here, though. I’m here with him and I know that no matter what happens next, everything is going to be okay because Ian Salucci is a badass motherfucker.

He keeps choking me on his dick, shoving it deeper and deeper down my throat until his entire body tenses and then shudders. He’s silent tonight as he comes. His semen shoots down my throat in thick spurts and I swallow it quickly, desperate to please him.

Ian grabs my head and pulls me a little closer, shoving his dick just a bit more into my throat, and as his cock softens, he finally releases me. I sit back on my heels and look up at him. I’m sure I must look like complete hell right now: messed up hair that’s still wet, watery eyes.

He smiles at me, though, and he nods.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.