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“And how’re you going to do that, hm? Got a secret sugar daddy who’s going to spend thousands on a dress?”
Thousands. My stomach cramps into a giant knot.
But the money is a problem for tomorrow. Right now, I just need to get free. To get away.
“I can sort it. Please.” My lungs haul in a raggedy breath, darkness filling out the corners of my vision. “Please, James. I’m so sorry. Let me try.”
He stands, dragging me upright by my hair, then shoving me down onto my knees. His free hand reaches into his pocket and draws out a knife, flicking out the blade.
His fly is open.
His hard cock is an inch from my face.
“Pull it out.”
I force my shaking hands to obey, reaching it and working it free of his underwear, guiding it through the gap underneath where his belt still holds his waistband snug around his hips.
I’m close enough to see the veins snaking along the sides. See the tip, red and wet and angry.
For one horrified moment, I think he’s going to force it inside my mouth, jam it into me, and the tears start. They start and I can’t make them stop. My voice turns into a babble, words and phrases and stark begging that sounds like gibberish. Nonsense phrases strung together by my lizard brain because most of it has become a crazed mess of denial.
Too terrified to make sense.
Too horrified to plan an escape route.
Begging and pleading and asking for forgiveness from this boy who should be locked behind bars rather than locked in this high school with the rest of us.
Forgiving Marnie for any trespasses because in that moment, I’d sacrifice anyone if I could escape.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he says, voice mocking. The fist in my hair eases, moves to cup my head instead. The blade a silver menace in the corner of my eye.
Then he releases my head, knocking my hands away to fist himself, pumping and pumping, so quick his hand becomes a blur.
“Open your mouth,” he says, voice full of gravel.
When I don’t move quickly enough for his liking, he flicks me with the knife, scoring a thin line on the underside of my chin. I think it’s just a tap, then the blood flows, the wound stinging like a papercut.
My jaw protests the movement, but I force it open, staring up into his eyes, hoping for a glimmer of humanity beyond the fierce glow of arousal.
He grunts, gripping his cock hard and aiming it at my face. I blink my eyes closed, feeling the spurts of his release hit my closed lids, my lips, my tongue.
When I open my eyes, specks of it glue my eyelashes together. He wipes the traces from the head of his prick and jams the fingers into my mouth. “Suck it off,” he croons, like he’s talking to a baby. Then his expression sharpens, turns back to its casual cruelty. “Eat up every drop.”
I swallow and my throat clutches midway through, making my eyes water, sending a bolt of panic through my brain.
He tugs his fingers free to slap my face, not hard but the shock wipes the thoughts from my head. I mindlessly obey his instruction, licking the smoky, salty spray from my lips, tears mixing with his cum until my face is a sticky mess.
I hope he’ll leave. He got what he came for.
Instead, James tucks himself away and squats in front of me, head tilted like he’s examining a specimen in science class, taking hold of my bleeding chin to keep my face steady.
“Look at me,” he orders when my eyes try to skate anywhere but there. When I meet his, they soften. “Still want to replace that dress?”
I nod, babbling something in the affirmative.
“Okay. Let’s do that, then.” His lips part in a massive smile, no trace of his usual snideness in sight. “You have until tomorrow night to source it. If it’s not in Marn’s possession when you head out for the evening, then you’ll owe me the cost… plus the same again as interest for jerking me around. Sound good?”
I nod, a drop of his cum sliding along my right eyelash when I do so. His smile grows again, impossibly large, so wide his head must be in danger of breaking in two.
