Page 67 of Vicious
“Then I’d never catch you.” Chase holds up the loofah and gets closer to me.
The warm water pelts down on us, and I can already see how this is going to go. He’ll wash me and grope me and fuck me, and when it’s over he’ll dump me back in the basement.
Or, even worse: he might want to sleep with me, and I have to pretend I don’t hate him.
“I don’t want to be caught,” I say fiercely. “So fuck off. I’m washing myself.” I reach for the loofah and try to take it from him. As expected, he doesn’t let go, and I glare up at him. “What is wrong with you?” I demand.
“The same things that are wrong with you.” Chase grabs my shoulder with his free hand and starts running the loofah across my collar, grinning the entire time. “Do I need to tie you down for this, Ah-May?”
I shudder at the sensation of the rough loofah against my skin. I don’t know how the mildest things are so erotic with him, but he’s not wrong: there are a lot of things wrong with me. “The difference is that I’m not a lunatic who kidnaps peop?—”
Before I can finish speaking, he grabs me by the back of the neck with his other hand, forcing a kiss on me.
“I think we’ve established that, Ah-May,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Now behave so I can bathe you properly.”
Breathless, I try to step back, but there’s nowhere to go. The kiss lingers on my lips, and I can’t decide if I want more or if I want him to leave me alone.
No. It’s an easy decision.
I want him gone.
On the next kiss, I take a deep breath and shove him as hard as I can.
Chase grunts and stumbles back a few steps. I grab for the glass door, but before I have it more than a few inches open, Chase is on me. He hooks his arm around my waist and drags me back, near slamming me against the far wall of the shower.
I gasp at the sensation of warm, wet tile against my healing back. When I struggle against his grip, my welts slide against the tile, the friction sending more pain lancing up my back.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, May,” Chase murmurs, leaning in closer.
I am.
I feel like I’m burning up from the inside, the pain and the pleasure of his touches driving me crazy. I’m wet, and it has nothing to do with the water and everything to do with his touch.
What would it feel like to give in again? To really and truly give myself over to him and kiss him back and let him thrust hard and deep into me?
I can’t, though. If I do it now, it’s such a slippery slope. Not only will he expect it, but he’ll use it against me for eternity. He’ll never let it go, and maybe… Maybe I don’t want him to. Maybe I don’t really want him to let me go.
When he kisses me again, I bite his lip as hard as I can, trying to dissuade him.
Chase hisses in pain, but instead of relenting, he only tightens his hold on me. His fingers dig into my skin, sure to leave bruises that I can press against and feel for days.
Like the ones on my back, that I’d lain on when I’d been alone, wanting the pain and the memory of the whip.
I struggle against him, the taste of blood on my tongue moving me to urgency, though all that does is bring our bodies closer. My leg slides against his, and his erection grinds against the inside of my thigh.
“I’m going to fuck you, sweet May,” Chase whispers against my lips. “Can you feel how hard I am? This is what you do to me.”
I whimper, and I find myself grabbing hold of his cock before I even realize my hand is moving. I grip it tight, trying to bring him pain, but all he does is moan.
He really is as fucked up as I am.
“I hate you,” I whisper as I move my hand on his cock.
Who am I kidding? I’m stroking him, playing with his cock and getting him even harder than before.
“That’s fine,” Chase answers, moving to bite my neck. “Hate me all you want, Ah-May.”
I’m breathing fast, my chest aching and my mind racing, and I can’t help but let out a whimper when his teeth sink into my skin. It feels so good, impossibly so, and I want to feel…