Page 132 of Stone: The Precursor

She goes to close the curtain, and I shake my head. “No. It stays open.”

“The floor is going to get wet if I keep the curtain open, Stone.”

“There’s my prissy girl. I don’t give a fuck if it floods. Stop stalling. Bathe, Countess.”

I watch her pick up the soap. The same one I saw in her brother’s bathroom months ago. My eyes track the way she moves it on the washcloth. She sets it down and starts to bathe, dragging the soapy mass up her arms and around her breasts and tummy. When she gets to her legs, she slides the cloth between.

“No.” I shake my head. I need to see more. “Cleaner,” I murmur as I step closer to the tub. I press my cigarette in the sink; the sizzle is loud in the room. I sit on the closed toilet seat, facing her. I open my legs, giving my cock freedom. It’s straining against my fly, wanting inside her beautiful pussy. “Give me your foot, Countess.”

She lifts her leg and rests the wet foot on my jeans, soaking the thick denim fabric. I watch the foam slide down into her slit and reach out and rub the soapy mixture into her pussy, swirling my finger around her clit. The pink nub is swollen, and I pinch it slightly, making her brace her hand on the wall. She moans, dropping the washcloth and joining me, rubbing her pussy and the soap between my fingers. I watch her tilt her head back as she rocks on our fingers. Her breasts shake and her nipples get pointier, jutting out, ready for my tongue. Or my knife. The thought makes me crazy. I need to cut her again soon. I’ve missed the flavor of her blood and the fragrant scent of her skin. I push two fingers inside her, and she stands on her tiptoes, looking down at me. “Fuuuccckk. Don’t stop.”

Her plea makes me curl my fingers. That needy voice is always music to my ears. I edge her a few minutes more and then pull my hand out.It’s covered in her cream, and I can’t wait to have the sticky substance all over my tongue and cock.

“No. Stone, please.”She grabs my wrist, attempting to put my hand back, but I peel her greedy fingers off.

“It’s time to rinse. You can’t come yet.”

“Please.” She cries, reaching for me again.

“I said no.” I stand, bringing my fingers to my nose, smelling her soap and arousal.

She snarls and removes her foot, placing it back in the tub. She’s angry. Good. I need an angry fuck tonight. My brain is still jumbled with all the things I’m doing. Putting her in danger, fucking her under her brother’s nose.

The sound of her ripping the shower curtain closed wakes me out of the maelstrom. The sight of the patterned plastic curtain blocking her body from me enrages me. I rip it back open. “You don’t hide from me.”

“Fuck you!” She snaps it closed again.

A haze of possessiveness envelopes my brain. I reach up and rip the curtain down, pulling it from the rings and throwing the plastic behind me.

Camryn yelps, staring down at the crumbled plastic.“Are you fucking crazy!? I swear to god, Stone! Now what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t give a fuck! I told you I’m insane, Camryn!” I lift her wet body out of the tub, wrapping my arms around her slick skin. She slaps at my back, rearing up to get down. “I wasn’t finished you asshole!”

I slap her wet ass. “You want to hit? Fine. I won’t mind punishing you!”

“You dick! For what?”

“For trying to deny me.”

“That was you! I was trying to come and you always have to take control!”

She’s right. And I can’t change how insane she makes me. I stomp out of the bathroom to her room and throw her on the bed. She bounces and scrambles up, trying to get off. Her long black hair clings to her damp, fragrant skin. It makes her look like a wet mermaid. I want those long wet strands on my body, curtaining me in her world.Her ass is beautiful. Pert and covered with the pink handprint from my slap. I’m going to make it redder by the end of the night. I want it the same shade as the inside of her pussy when she’s riding my cock.

Distracted by her beauty, she almost gets past me, but I reach out and lift her up, putting her back on the mattress. I twist her so she’s lying on her tummy, and crawl on top of her back, letting her feel some of my weight. She’s powerless physically, but I’m the one who’s powerless emotionally. She has me by the balls; by the heart. My mind, my entire rotted soul, is hers, and I know it. She may not know how much, but I do. The truth is, as much as I control the sex, she’s the one who is really running the show. Everything good still left in me calls me to claim her, to keep her, and hold onto her kindness, her intrinsic worth. She’s become essential. Vital.

“Don’t move.”

“Or what?” She mumbles into the wet sheets, trying to elbow me.

“Or I won’t give you what you want.”

She turns her face to the side, but her wet hair hides her face. “And what the fuck is that, Stone? What do I want?”

“Pleasure, Countess. I won’t give you pleasure.”

“What if I don’t want pleasure from you anymore!?” She huffs and tries to get to her knees to remove me from her back. “Get off me!”

“Not yet, and I think you’re lying,” I whisper near her ear.