Page 14 of Redemption (Favorite Malady Duet #2)
His fingers skate up my thigh, easing my dress up to expose my ass. They dip between my legs, and he releases a low, satisfied hum at the slick arousal he finds there.
Mortification sears my cheeks when I realize that I’ve never been so wet.
He was right: he’s unleashed something dark inside me that craves this cruelty, the struggle and forced submission.
“So soft and ready for me,” he says with rough desire. “Is your sensitive little clit aching?”
“Don’t…” I choke on the plea before I can fully verbalize it.
He shushes me again. “Only my name, remember?”
His fingers brush my clit, and I buck beneath him as stars burst across my vision at the punch of pleasure.
“Don’t worry, pet. I’m not going to fuck you now. I won’t break you.”
The ragged sound that heaves from my chest is somewhere between a maddened laugh and a sob.
No, Dane doesn’t want to risk breaking his precious pet. He said he wants all of me, and that seems to mean that he wants my mind intact.
How can he not see that he’s destroying my soul with every tender touch and soft word of praise?
With every masterful brush of his hands over my most sensitive areas, I feel the caresses of the man I loved, the man I trusted with my whole heart.
The fact that a monster is holding me instead is exquisite agony.
My body welcomes the pain of his cruel fingers pinching my nipples, smearing paint over my breasts like I’m his most passionate work of art.
And my core is molten for him, my inner muscles contracting around nothing as he toys with my clit. I’m aching to be filled, but there’s nothing I dread more than the prospect of his cock inside me.
He promised not to fuck me, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t a violation.
It’s just like the night he attacked me as the masked man.
He hadn’t taken his own pleasure in my body on that night, either.
But I understand now that his carnal satisfaction was far more sadistic than simple physical release.
Forcing orgasms from my reluctant body seems to please him on a primal, perverted level that only a complete psychopath could understand.
I can feel his thick erection pressing into my upper thigh. He’s getting off on this: the control over me, my helplessness to stop my body from responding to him.
I’m on the cusp of the most powerful orgasm of my life.
Pleasure coils low in my belly, and I thrash against the wet canvas.
I fear that I’m no longer struggling to get away; I’m desperately seeking more stimulation.
My clit is painfully hard as he teases around it in maddening circles.
His low, arrogant laugh dances up my spine like a caress, and I shudder at the answering rush of pleasure that washes through me in a warm wave.
“Come for me, pet.”
He slides two thick fingers inside me and crooks them against my most sensitive spot. At the same time, his thumb presses down on my clit.
My orgasm rips through me, and I scream in ecstasy and despair.
I’m helpless to resist the bliss that shreds my psyche as it rakes through my body.
My inner muscles contract around his fingers, clamping down hard to keep him inside me.
The release goes on and on. Sheet lighting flashes over my vision, and I’m a whimpering mess, writhing on the horrific, perverted painting we’re making together.
“That was very pretty, but you forgot something,” he admonishes, continuing to wring ruthless pleasure from my core. “My name, Abigail. Say it.”
“Please…” I can’t. The surrender would be too shameful to bear. He has to allow me this last shred of my dignity, my autonomy.
“You’ll get no mercy from me, pet.”
His fingers finally withdraw from my pulsing pussy, but before I can heave in a gasp of relief, his touch trails upward.
I try to wriggle my way free, but his other hand releases my breasts to grip my ass cheek. His fingers dig into my flesh in a warning bite, spreading me wide open for him.
“You’re mine,” he declares. “Every part of you.”
His desire-slicked finger presses against my asshole, and I try to buck away. He holds me steady, keeping me trapped for his amusement.
“You will submit, Abigail. Surrender.”
“Dane. Please, Dane…” I’m babbling, repeating his name like that will earn his mercy.
But he has none.
“You’ll have to come for me,” he coaxes. “Come for me while I finger your tight little asshole, and I’ll relent.”
Something breaks inside me.
I don’t have a choice. My mind accepts that my only way to escape this horrific ecstasy is to comply. And even if I didn’t acknowledge that awful truth, my body would comply anyway.
Pleasure gathers low in my belly as his finger slips inside me. I clench around him, but my final efforts to resist him only awaken forbidden sensations I’ve never experienced before.
He bites out a curse and pushes deeper. “I’ll stretch this virgin asshole with my cock soon enough. But I’ll get you ready for me before I claim you. I’ll never harm you, little dove.”
I close my eyes and turn my face into the canvas, as though I can hide from what’s happening to me. My body softens, and he begins to pump his finger into me in gentle thrusts.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Such a sweet pet.”
A strangled sound catches in my throat, a carnal groan. My core throbs with desire in response to his praise, and my clit pulses in time with my racing heartbeat.
He torments me with slow, terrible pleasure as he continues to toy with my ass, teasing me until I fully surrender. I’m not trying to squirm away from him anymore. Heat flushes my skin, and I practically pant with mounting lust.
“You’re going to come for me just like this.” His voice has dropped to a deeper register, and he sounds almost drunk on his power over me. “I’m not going to touch your pretty cunt or your hard little clit. Only this.”
His darkly perverse command shudders through me, and I weep into the messy painting we’ve made. The pleasure is so keen that it cuts my heart like a knife. My core is swollen and achy, as though his gentle fingers have marked me with bruises deep inside my pussy.
But, true to his word, he hasn’t harmed me physically.
My soul is another matter entirely.
Ecstasy gathers low in my belly, and all of my muscles coil tight in anticipation of release. Sweat slicks my skin, and soft moans leave my chest with every heaving breath.
“Let go,” he urges. “Give me everything.”
I come apart on a scream, and his name echoes through the studio he’s provided for me.
“Good girl.” His warm praise layers over my sharp cry, and he pumps his fingers into me, drawing out my orgasm.
My scream melts into a sob, and I shake beneath him. I’m utterly spent and shattered beyond repair.
Dane commanded me to paint for him, and despite my refusal, he’s compelled me to make a shameful, carnal work of art.