Page 94 of Loving the Tormentor

"I'm going to fuck you while you look at the consequences of someone hurting you.That'swhat's going to happen. And you, my beautiful girl"—he pulls me up violently, forcing me to face Bennett over his shoulder as I wrap my legs around his waist for balance"—are going to come hard on my dick because that's what you do when I use you."

"I swear to God, if you touch me—" My sentence dies in a squeak when the same blade that just killed Bennett presses against my throat as he walks us. My back hits a wall, and a grunt escapes me.

"Fuck you."

He chuckles. "The next words I want to hear from you areplease, let me come.Then maybe I'll fuck you."

His free hand undoes my jeans and disappears beneath my underwear, his fingers playing with my clit as he keeps talking.

"I need you here at my mercy. I need you scared, turned on, and to let me explore all the emotions in between."

I lose the rhythm of my breathing as pleasure overwhelms me, and just like he does so well, he adds fear to the mix. The knife presses against my throat again as he starts pushing his fingers inside me.

"You know I need your moans and those little whimpers you make when you beg."

Pressure pushes pleasure out of my chest, making me pant.

"I'm selfish, and I'm going to use you for everything you have to give."

I moan shamelessly when he curves his fingers inside me. I have no survival instincts, no way or reason to resist him.Achilles might be the one constantly fucking me, but I'm the one who fucks myself over every time I come back for more.

"Achilles," I panic, about to bring my hands to the knife.

His lethal gaze stops me as it sears into mine. "You're going to be okay."

Going to? I'm not fucking okayright now.

"I can't do this," I pant as he pins me harder against the wall. I'm stuck, and my anxiety doubles when I feel him lower his jeans in one aggressive movement.

"I can't," I cry out. "Please, the knife…"

He rips a condom wrapper open with his teeth.

"I know you're scared, baby. I'm going to make it better." I feel him shift, rolling the rubber on with one hand.

"I can’t do this with you anymore. This…this game—Ah!" Pleasure overwhelms me when his fingers push inside me again.

"That's it," he purrs as he thrusts them in and out, slowly stroking me into calming down.

"Achilles," I whimper. "Please…"

"Please, what?" His fingers disappear, and they press against my clit instead, making me so aware of the wetness coating them. "Please take the knife away? Please be nicer to you? Please keep fucking you until you come all over my fingers?"

My legs tighten around his waist as he pushes inside me again.

"I can't hear you,mon trésor."

"Fuck you," I rage through another moan. "You manipulative fuck…Fuck me."

His voice is a little closer to my right ear when he says. "But aren't you scared?"

The mix of my heart racing from the fear and my breath stuttering from the pleasure is messing with my mind. My arms are wrapped around his neck, the thrill of the knife making me push against his palm, seeking more.

He stays silent while he keeps fucking me, and it enhances the fear. His hand skillfully shoves my panties to the side. The tip of his dick is next, rubbing through my arousal. And then the knife presses slightly harder. My pulse kicks, the fear of dying strong and undeniable.

"Achilles," I whimper once more. "I'm scared."

With one hand still holding the knife, he guides himself inside me.