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With his gaze fixed firmly on mine, his warm finger gently presses against the spot where my pussy lips meet. He rests his fingers there, watching me closely. I fix my face into a blank slate, refusing to let him see how much his touch affects me. He can’t know how close to the truth he is. He can’t know that I’ve longed for a man’s touch, that a tiny part of me, buried deep in my soul, has wanted to be craved and desired, or that his honesty and insight has touched me more than it should have.
“Stop it,” I protest, weaker now.
“I can smell your arousal, Nought,” he says, breathing in. My cheeks flush with heat at his proximity. If he were to tip his chin downwards, his lips would be millimeters away from my mound. “You want me to touch you, don’t you? You want me to bury my fingers knuckle deep in your ripe pussy and fuck you until your world upends.”
“No,” I reply through gritted teeth. “I don’t.” But as I say those words, I don’t push Leon’s hand away, I don’t move as he slides his finger between my folds and finds out just how much I’m lying. Behind his mask, his eyelids drop shut and a low growl rumbles up his throat.
“You’re a liar,” he whispers, his tongue slipping out from between his plump lips, wetting them. The tip of his tongue runs lightly over the material of my dress, grazing my mound as his fingertip rims my entrance. I have to fight back the moan desperate to release from between my clamped lips, and force myself to hate what he’s doing because enjoying this makes me no better than him.
It’swrong.
“Stop,” I whimper, my hips rocking of their own accord as he presses a damp kiss against my mound, the soft material of my dress adding to the friction.
“Then fight back.Run,” he says, but it isn’t an order. It’s a request, almost a plea. Something’s shifting. Something fundamental.
“That’s what you want,” I choke out, barely holding myself together. I feel my seams parting, his words and his honesty, his touch and his attention, snipping at the fraying thread. He gently eases one finger into my core, whilst the pad of his thumb circles my clit with just the right amount of pressure. Two converse emotions war for my attention. Lust and hate.
I hate him. Yet I want to chase the physical feeling, the release he’s stoking. I want a man’s fingers to make me come. I want the man who’s visited me these past two years in my visions to draw out my pleasure. I wantLeonto make me come. The thought is confusing and gut churning, but undeniable.
Staring down at him, I reach to cup his face, my fingers sliding into his hair. He flinches, but he doesn’t stop edging his finger inside of me, he doesn’t stop drawing out this potent feeling. It begins to unfurl, the tension in my lower stomach searching for release.
“I can be gentle,” he whispers so quietly I almost think I’m mistaken. For the briefest of moments, probably not even long enough to count as one, Leon leans into my hold, his eyelids drooping. He offers me a glimpse of someone I doubt many have seen before, and I know in that moment, I’ve weakened him. It gives me the strength to do what I must.
“I willnevergive you what you want… You’re irredeemable, ” I hiss, releasing him from my hold and pushing his hands away, rejecting him, rejecting this.
Ihaveto.
His eyes harden. Then, like a switch being turned back on, the bastard returns.
“Then I willtakeit. I will fuck your cunt with my fingers and tongue, and make you scream my name all while hating yourself for liking it so much.” His words are crass, harsh, unfeeling, and like a bucket of water over crackling embers, they completely smother any last feelings of desire.
“Fuck you!” I snap.
Bringing my knee up, I slam it as hard as I can into his jaw, hearing the sound of bone meeting bone. His head snaps back, and the force makes him topple backwards just as Jakub and Konrad enter the room.
