Page 43 of Ravage

"To come. Please let me come."

"You haven't earned it yet."

I open my desk drawer, pulling out toys I keep here for precisely this purpose.

Glass and steel that make her gasp when she sees them.

I start with the glass, cold and unforgiving, working it inside her alongside my fingers until she's stretched wide, sobbing from the fullness.

"Look," I command when her eyes close. "Watch yourself being used."

She forces her eyes open, watching in the mirror as I fuck her with the toys, bringing her to the edge over and over.

Her phone buzzes on my desk.

David's name appears on the screen.

Perfect timing.

"Read it," I order, still working the toy inside her.

With shaking hands, she picks up the phone. "He says—oh god—he says he knows I'm somewhere downtown. He's been tracking—fuck, please—tracking my phone location."

I thrust the toy deeper, making her arch. "What else?"

"He's coming to find me. He thinks—" She gasps as I curl my fingers just right. "He thinks I'm being held against my will."

"Are you?"

"No! No, I want this, I want you, please?—"

"Text him back."

Her eyes widen. "What?"

"You heard me. Tell him exactly where you are and what you're doing."

"I can't?—"

I pull the toys out, leaving her empty and desperate. "Then you don't come."

"Wait! I'll do it. I'll text him."

I stand between her spread legs, cock pressing against her entrance, but not entering. "Tell him you're getting fucked by someone who actually knows how to use you. Tell him you've never been happier."

With trembling fingers, she types.

I watch over her shoulder, making corrections, making it cruder, more explicit:

David, stop calling. I'm exactly where I want to be—getting fucked by a real man who knows how to make me scream. I've come more times in two days than I during our entire relationship. Don't contact me again.

When she hits send, I reward her by slamming into her fully and making her scream.

The phone rings immediately.

"Answer it. On speaker."

She does, and his panicked voice fills the room. "Selene, what the hell? That message—that can't be you."