Page 149 of House of Cards

Zoey

Smith’s never going to let me go. This was all just some sick game to him. Something to get blood pumping into his shriveled dick so he doesn’t have to use medication to get it up.

Except…the thing poking into my rear end isn’t limp or flaccid. It’s big, and it’s hard, and he’s wielding it like a weapon. It burns when he tries to push it inside me, but fuck, even that sensation is turning me on.

Am I seriously just going to let him do this to me?

Fuck that.

I try to wriggle away from him, from his cock, he hauls back on the belt, choking me like a dog.

I fall back, trying to tug the belt from his hand, glaring at him when he just shakes his head, tuts, and lines up with my asshole again. I don’t even want to think about what he’s about to do. How much it’s going to hurt.

How easy it is for him to hurt me. How much he enjoys it.

I saw his expression shift when he twisted my arm out of place.

My pain turned him on.

What’s really messing with my head is howskillfulhe is. He was so careful not to draw blood when he caned me. So carefulnot to dislocate my arm all the way. He knows just how far to push before I break, and somehow, manages not to cross that line.

…you’ll be fine…

Seriously? I’m going to need a physiotherapist, a regular therapist, and a brief opiate addiction before I’ll ever befineagain.

No, what’s really messing with my head is how I seem to enjoy this. I keep callinghima psycho. Making a show of how much I hate him. But I’m not surprised he doesn’t take me seriously when I seem to be actively encouraging him to torment me.

I loved it when he chased me.

The sight of him breaking down a fucking door to reach me?

Jesus, that was hot.

Almost made me wish I hadn’t broken his bathroom mirror so I had something to defend myself with. Not that it made a difference. I could have had a machine gun in there with me, and it wouldn’t have mattered.

He wanted me enough to break down a motherfucking door.

And I wanted him to catch me.Wantedhim to punish me.

Which is so fucked up, because I don’t like pain. My whole body aches, and it’s not pleasant.

It’s uncomfortable, and irritating, and I want it to stop…but I don’t wanthimto stop.

Even now, when he again forces the tip of his cock into my virgin asshole.

I’ve never let a man do this to me. Never wanted it. But the moment he spat on me and rubbed his thumb over my sensitive hole, my entire lower body clenched.

In a fucking fantastic way.

I bite down on my lips, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me groan. And as much as I want to close my eyes andjust flutter away, the belt around my neck keeps me grounded. The hand possessively gripping my ass cheek, wrenching it aside to give him better access.

“Let me in, kitten,” Smith murmurs, his voice dangerously low.

“I’m not doing anything.” My cheeks grow warm as I peek at him behind my lashes, too embarrassed to even try to glare at him.

“My point. You have to relax.” Smith drops his eyes to my ass, slowly rocking his hips to work that single inch of his dick in and out of my hole.

God, it feels good.