Page 19

ANASTASIA

He yanks me by my hair, and practically drags me back to the room I found earlier.

Psycho is never gentle or kind that I’ve seen. Right now he seems angry, and that worries me, because I can only imagine what he’s capable of when he’s mad. He watches me like a wolf watches its prey, and the irony isn’t lost on me. I expect him to direct me to the bed, but he doesn’t.

“Get in the chair, and put your hands on the armrests.”

Psycho stares at me with a heated gaze, as I do as he said. I have no idea what’s happening, and I’m still confused when he grabs a strap from underneath the armrest, and secures my arm in place, before doing the same with my other one.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he grabs my leg and pushes it back beside my head, strapping it there, before also restraining my other leg beside my head.

“What the fuck?”

With a smirk, he drops his gaze between my legs. I’m spread wide open, and I don’t like it. I’ve never had a man look at me like this.

“Pretty boring pussy, but we’ll fix that.”

He opens a drawer on the table beside the chair, and pulls out a needle and a tube.

“What is that?”

I hate the stupid grin on his face, like my misery brings him joy.

“It’s for your piercing.”

He holds up a little piece of jewelry. A fucking knife, because, of course, he would have piercings that are tiny little knives, just like the one he has.

“I’m piercing your hood, little lamb.”

My mouth opens and forms an ‘O’, before I react angrily.

“You are not fucking piercing me!”

He sets the items on the table and, for a moment, I think maybe he’s realized how insane this is, and might stop this madness. I force myself to ignore his body. I will not look at the beautiful ink, that is an artistic masterpiece. The large skull in the middle of his chest, or the ones on his arms. Vibrant colors, that make this dark man appear lighter than he is. I’ll pretend all of it doesn’t exist.

What is it about bad guys that attract me? Why can I even notice how hot this man is? He has me strapped to a chair, like a goddamn x-rated pretzel, and plans to pierce a part of me he doesn’t even have a right to touch. I’ve always thought Carlo was the monster of all monsters, but now I’m not so sure.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

He stares at me in quiet contemplation, and I wonder if he even knows the answer.

He sits in front of me on the chair, with the stupid needle, and tiny knife, in his hands.

“It pleases me. Also, because you mocked my piercings, and I feel the need to show you how pleasurable it is.”

I glare at him as he lowers the tool just over my clit, and my breathing gets heavy, as I pant out, “How is piercing me going to show me that? It’s going to fucking hurt.”

His lips pull into that smirk that irritates me to no end. I fucking hate him.

Except when he made you come harder than you have in your entire life.

“Again, it pleases me, little lamb. Greatly. Few things turn me on more than your pain.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, because showing him fear only means more torture, since he gets off on it.

Psycho chuckles softly, as if he can read my mind.

“It’ll be a slight pinch,” he says, as he shoves the needle into my sensitive skin, and he’s a goddamn liar. It’s not a pinch. And it’s not anything slight. I scream out in pain, and Psycho stares at me with an intense gaze, that should not take my breath away.

Without looking away from the jewelry, he tosses his supplies on the table.

“Fuck, little lamb. Look how pretty your pussy is with my knife in it.”

I still cannot believe he just put a piece of jewelry on my body that’s a tiny gold knife. My blood pounds in my ears, as I see red. Massimo, the boy, was never sweet and gentle, still I never imagined he’d turn into this. I knew he did terrible things, but this crosses a line I didn’t expect.

He strokes his cock a few times, lining it up with my entrance, and I want to push him away, but he has me restrained, so I can’t do anything.

“Don’t.”

The corners of his lips pull up into a smirk, equally sexy and dangerous.

“For thirty days, you’re mine to do with as I please, unless you’re telling me I can’t fuck you. I won’t take you without consent, counselor.”

‘You already have’ is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow my words. I’m not a violent person, but right now I wish I had the use of my hands, and could punch him in his smug face, because we both know I have no choice but to consent. It’s either let him do whatever he wants to me, or he kills me, for not obeying his every word. That’s not fucking consent. It’s coercion. I’m tempted to inform him under the law that’s still rape. If a person is unable to say no, it’s sexual assault by coercion. Then again, nearly everything he has done is against the law, and I know he doesn’t care. He’s untouchable. Or so he thinks.

“I don’t want this,” I say, in a voice barely above a whisper.

Psycho arches a brow as he stares at me.

“Are you saying no, little lamb? Is this you giving up on day one?”

“I’m not saying no, I’m making it clear I don’t want this. We both know you’re going to do what you want to, anyway. Can you at least put a condom on, so I don’t get pregnant?”

He pushes the tip of his cock inside me.

“Not a chance. We both know you won’t be alive in thirty days, so we don’t need to worry about any babies.”

With a single thrust, he’s buried to the hilt. Leaning over me, he places a hand on either side of my shoulders, and his voice comes out deep, and filled with need I wish I didn’t recognize.

“I’m going to go slow, because I want you to feel every piece of metal in my cock. Every movement will bring you closer to an orgasm. I promise you, it’ll be better than the toy you had in your dresser.”

Every time he thrusts into me, he grinds his pelvis against the damn piercing, causing pain and then pleasure, forcing moans out of me, that I wish I could keep stuffed down. My body is a traitor. I should be able to control whether or not I want to orgasm, but I can’t. He has control over me in every single way, and I hate it.

I already knew he was in my house, and did disgusting things while he was there. Somehow, him seeing my toy has me turning red with humiliation, and equal rage. Everything about Psycho is a violation.

“Wait. Had? You said had, as in past tense. Like it was there, but it isn’t now.”

Psycho swipes his tongue over my lips, and groans.

“I like it when you’re angry, lamb. It’s sexy as fuck, but you have reason to be suspicious. I have your toy, and I’d be happy to fuck you in the ass with it, while you come all over my cock, if you like.”

“I would not.”