Page 483 of Lessons in Cruelty

I want to knee him in the groin when I see his mocking grin, but he’s too close, and any sudden movements might end with an emergency trip to Agony Memorial, and some inventive excuse for how an ice pick got rammed up my cunt.

“You’re dumb, but you’re not that dumb.” I tell myself it’s annoyance that’s making my voice shake.

I just wish I could believe my own lies.

Kai leans back a little, tossing the ice pick into the air and catching it. “We never had safe words.”

“We were kids! Kids don’t know what fucking safe words are.” I writhe my torso violently, trying to hit him with my elbows, headbutt him, anything… but he just twists my top, locking my wrists even tighter.

“Fucking let go!”

“Stop embarrassing yourself, Miss H. You know you want this.”

I freeze when he presses the ice pick to my mouth, dragging down my bottom lip like he’s inspecting my teeth.

“Your pouty little lips want this.”

The ice pick leaves a stinging trail on my skin as he scrapes it down my belly hard enough to leave a mark. My body goes rigid when he slides it behind the waistband of my skirt. He pulls, then releases the handle, letting the pick smack against my lower belly.

I grunt. Not in pain, but in suppressed panic. With the way he’s holding my arms, I have little range of motion, but I can look down to see what he’s doing.

Although I wish I couldn’t.

Because he leaves the ice pick there, tucked behind my belt almost exactly how I’d had it back in the kitchen.

So close, and yet impossible to reach.

And now, with his free hand, he can test his theory of how much I want this.

His fingertips skate up the inside of my thigh. I squirm away from his touch, but he just follows, chuckling at my pathetic attempts at resistance.

When I try to close my legs, he burrows his knee between mine.

He rubs his fingers over my pussy, and my eyes squeeze closed at his low whistle when he feels how wet I am.

“Your needy little pussy wants this,” he murmurs, his fingertips making my entire body tingle with anticipation as he slowly circles my clit.

He slips a finger inside me. The groan he lets out makes my fucking ovaries quiver.

“You’re so fucking wet. You gonna lie and tell me your tight, dripping, slutty little pussy doesn’t want this?”

My chest is too tight to reply. I’m feeling all sorts of things right now, but argumentative isn’t one of them.

Horny.

Hotter by the minute.

Wound tighter than a fucking corkscrew.

But I don’t have a word to say when he nips my ear, his body melding against mine as his fingers slip over my pussy.

“You want this,” he breathes into my ear, sending a hard shiver through my body. “You need this. If you weren’t so fucking stubborn, you’d be begging.”

“Please,” I rasp, before I can stop myself.

“One little please isn’t good enough,” comes his breathless reply.

“Please-please-please,” I whisper in a rush.