Page 35 of A Vow To Chase

She sighs as I push fingers inside her, pulls my mouth to hers and I do everything I can to tease her now. Soft strokes, no pressure, and no fucking end to the torment I’d place on her if we had all day to continue. We don’t, though.

I pull back and take my hand to her mouth, smearing the taste of her onto her lips, then kiss it off her. “Not this morning. We have things to do.” I roll out of bed towards the bathroom and start walking. She groans, and I turn back to find her playing with herself back there. “That’s cheating,” I call, as I head into the shower.

Less than two minutes later she joins me and pushes me out of the way so she can wash her hair. “I won’t be left hanging in real life. Not my thing,” she says. Fair enough.

I end up taking the bottle off her and doing it for her, unsure why I am doing but amusing myself with the interaction. And then I find myself remembering her fucking her own pussy out there which makes me want to cheat, too.

She gets pushed back on the tiles to make sure she understands the feel of me all over her in more ways than one. “Kneel down.” She does, and looks up at me as I make myself come on her face. It doesn’t take long. Why would it with all those colours on show and her mouth begging me to ram my dick inside it. “Eat it then.” Her tongue roams out of her mouth, tries to lick the cum splattered around until she takes her hand and starts wiping it into her mouth. That used to be simple fun for me, degradation in some way, but not now.

“Whose cum is on your face?” I ask, watching.

She swallows. “Yours.”

“Whose cuts on your skin?”

“Yours.”

“Whose knife at my throat?”

“Mine.”

“Hmm. Keep eating like a good girl.”

I watch every second of it, consumed by the vison and not giving a fuck about what we should be getting dressed for. Me up here, her down there. She ends up touching my legs, crawling closer until she’s lapping my skin and making her way up to my balls.

“Do you still want him dead?” She stops licking and falls back on her knees, seemingly bemused with my abrupt change of topic. I grab her chin lightly. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

My finger runs across her jaw for a few moments, all sorts of emotions running through my thoughts. Danger. Fear. Concern.My Alice. “I’ll have it done then.”

She scowls and brings herself upright, pulls her chin from my hand. “But I want to do it. I said that. You knew and-“

“No.”

“Ineedto, Malachi. It ends when I’ve made it end.” I walk away from her before she decides to start arguing, grabbing a towel in frustration. “These scars are all about him. It doesn’t matter how many you put across them, they won’t go away completely unless I make them. Don’t you understand that?”

I sneer at the logic of the statement and walk straight past her to pull some jeans on. “No. This isn’t a discussion. Or an argument.“

“Screw you.” I swing back to her, as she throws the towel she’s grabbed and glares at me from the other side of the bathroom. “Just, screw you. You don’t get to take that from me and-“

“I do. Close your mouth before you get yourself in trouble, Alice.”

“Blackmail type trouble, or you’re going to kill yourself type trouble?” she snarks, as she walks to me. “What are you going to threaten me with? Because I can guarantee you that hurting me does not work.” She points at the cuts on her torso. “As proved by these.”

I shrug into the jeans, damn close to strapping her hide with the belt. Threaten her?

I’ve yet to threaten her with a damn thing.

She won’t like it if I do.

I look at the cuts on her skin, near burning with my own rage because of her attitude, and then her face again. “You’re not doing it, Alice. Be careful with your tone.”

“My tone?”

“Yes.”

“So we’re in a fucking dictatorial state all of a sudden?”