Page 75 of Brutal
“Got it,” he says, and he starts to pick up the pace. He’s breathing hard, and sweat starts to form on his brow as he works to get leverage from his position. He fucks into me harder, just like I requested, and I tighten around him again.
It’s hard to maintain any semblance of rhythm. I focus on my pleasure, marveling at how fucking good all of this feels. No fear, no worry, just me getting off on Drake’s cock. I imagine caning him, the way he’d done to me—but I don’t have the stomach for that. Just knowing that he’s obeying me now and getting off on it is enough.
My orgasm slowly builds, a steady pressure that’s getting ready to burst. I only need a little more.
I reach down to lightly squeeze Drake’s nipples and give him a cruel smile. “Think you can handle it?”
His breath catches sharply as he jerks beneath me, momentarily thrown off his rhythm. “Handle what?” he asks.
I pinch his nipples and twist them.
He cries out, jerking beneath me. He curses, but I can feel the way it makes his cock throb within me despite the way he skips another thrust. “I don’t… Fuck, I don’t know.”
“It’s easier to dish out than to take,” I say, with more anger than I meant to show.
No, I’m not over anything yet. This isn’t actually a punishment, and it certainly doesn’t make up for any of the shit he put me through.
But I can’t change the past, so I may as well enjoy myself now.
“Y-yeah,” he stammers, looking chastised, a little muted. His thrusts slow again, and I twist his nipple. He takes the hint, picking up speed again, and I relax as my orgasm starts to build again.
I can come from this, but the question is, can I come before Drake does?
Because I really, really don’t want him to have the chance to get off.
I close my eyes and let the pleasure wash over me. He’s doing all this for me. Drake Brutal, one of the richest, most powerful men in the world, is inexplicably infatuated with me.
Drake Brutal, who has no idea what to do with emotions, but is offering them up to me on a platter without even realizing it.
It’s that thought that makes me groan, and an orgasm crashes into me.
As I tighten around him, he lets out a choked sound, thrusting harder into me, faster, as he chases his own climax.
“No,” I tell him, breathless and heavy-lidded as I look down at him. “You don’t get to come.”
He slows down, confusion flitting across his handsome features.
“I told you that you could come first or not at all,” I remind him, luxuriating both in my orgasm and in his obedience.
“Mimi…” he groans.
I don’t want to, but I slide off him to deny him my cunt. I flick my finger harshly against the head of his cock, which is dripping with my fluids.
“If you need help, I can pinch it,” I say.
He lets out a choked sound and shakes his head. “No,” he says. He closes his eyes, taking a moment to gather himself, then he collapses against the bed. His cock continues to twitch, but I have to give him credit: he doesn’t try to talk me into changing my mind. He’s quiet for several minutes, then he finally asks, “Do you want me to call you Amber?” His lips quirk into a faint smirk. “Or Mistress?”
“Not really,” I say quietly. I don’t even know who Amber is anymore. The woman who once thought she could fix… something. Not the world, but at least a small little corner of it.
Naive and optimistic and utterly stupid is what she’d been.
I even used to think I was cynical, which is hilarious when I think of how I am now.
I sit up so I can untie him. “Mimi is fine.”
He nods, sobering slightly. His cock is still hard, but he ignores it. He stretches after I untie him, rubbing his wrists thoughtfully. “Will you stay?” he asks uncertainly, holding out an arm to me.
I shouldn’t. I need to get out of here before I lose even more of myself, before Amber isn’t even a memory anymore.