Page 22 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

Chapter Seventeen

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T he orgasmic haze clears and Mallory is still pressed up against me.

One hand on my cock, like she can’t get enough, and one hand around my throat.

Her eyes betray her, she fucking wants to eat me for dinner.

I can’t go again quite yet, darlin’, but I’ll be sure to get you something to eat.

You’ve earned it. I’ll make her a hundred sandwiches if she continues to make me feel like that.

She’s the first female to ever embrace my desires without disgust. I wonder what will happen when I show her more of what I want.

Will she step up to the plate or tuck tail and run?

What the fuck am I thinking? She’s my prisoner, not my fucking girlfriend. I push her back. “Get off me,” I snarl. She staggers, trying to catch herself, but falls back, landing on her ass. I see the minuscule wince of pain cross her face before she locks it down and goes back to a blank slate.

“Fuck you.” She looks up at me, debating whether to even try to stand or not. Stay down, bitch. “That will be the last orgasm you get from me if you’re just going to be a dick afterwards.” No it fucking won’t be. You’ll give it or I’ll take it, doesn't matter either way to me.

“Oh, I highly doubt that, darlin’,” I taunt, crouching down and getting eye level with her.

My hand snaps out, gripping her swollen knee.

It’s twice the size it should be, and such a pretty smattering of grotesque colours.

I tighten my grip, but she doesn’t break.

Come on, Mallory, scream for me. I pull the new burner phone from my back pocket and turn on the video, zooming in on her face of stone.

She cracks. Pulling out a phone is new, to the both of us.

It freaks her out, but it thrills me. I want to fucking destroy Graves, and if I can’t do it by taking his girlfriend, I’ll do it by being the killer he can’t ever seem to catch.

I click off the recording. “Help me taunt your ex and maybe I’ll let you phone a friend,” I say. That gets her attention. I watch the wheels turning in her head as a smirk pulls at her lips.

Nodding slowly, she looks me right in the eye.

“Cuff me,” she whispers, nibbling her bottom lip between her teeth.

I can’t help it, I’m being dragged against my will towards a full blown blooming obsession for her.

If she’s a pain slut, I may not have to kill her at all.

I mean… I might accidentally murder her, I’ve never been good with restraint, but if that happens, I’ll just find another replacement.

She places her hands out in front of her, and I pull my police issued handcuffs from the cargo pocket on my thigh, snapping them painfully tight around her small wrists.

“Make it believable,” I encourage.

“I don’t have to fake it, it fucking hurts. I just don’t like giving you the satisfaction of my pain,” she sasses back at me.

“Why is that so easy for you? I’ve never seen anyone clam up like you.”

“Are we swapping stories or fucking with the police?” She is such a cunt sometimes, but I want to know how her fucking brain works.

I glare at her, waiting her out. Finally, she huffs at me, exasperated.

“Dennis also used to get off on beating the shit out of me, so did his friends. I learned to keep quiet or else they hit me harder for drawing attention.” Sounds like my mother, no wonder our dark parts play well together. I nod.

“Showtime.” I say, raising the phone camera once again.

“I want a fucking blanket, and a decent meal for everything I’ve done today,” she grumbles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Standing, I press the record button. The phone dings, and the seconds climb as I pan the feed across the grass.

Finally her feet come into frame, then her legs, and her plump ass, jiggling in those tiny fucking shorts I gave her.

Mallory rolls, trying to crawl away from me.

‘Juicy’ glitters in the early evening light as she scrambles, grasping at the earth to try and gain some traction.

I drop down to a crouch, grabbing onto her ankle and flipping her back over.

Her tits bounce as her chest heaves. Pleading, “P-please! S-stop! No more!” Her black eye stands out against the paleness of her skin, the colours mixed in the bruising matching the yellow flecks in her eyes.

Her lip is bleeding… When did that happen?

Did she do that for me ? To make the video more believable?

The blood drips off her chin, soaking into the pink shirt. This is perfect.

Panning the camera back down her body, I record myself caressing my palm up her leg.

My hand stops on her swollen, discoloured knee, grabbing it aggressively, digging my fingers hard into the injury.

She cries out in agony and I move the phone to catch her harmonious screams on the screen.

She holds her shackled hands up, “Stop, stop, please! I can’t take anymore!

” she wails, surrendering to me, and making me so fucking aroused.

My dick twitches in my boxers but doesn’t erect.

She really took it out of me earlier with the choking and stroking.

The clinking of my belt undoing shuts her up as her eyes go wide, “Please…no…not again,” she whimpers, a tear rolling down her cheek. I zoom in on it then cut the video.