I grabbed the ankles of her wadded jeans and tugged until her legs were free, leaving her naked from the waist down. “Get that goddamn sweater off now.”
Her arms shook as she pulled the knitted fabric over her head and let it drop over the back of the couch. I sat down and pulled her on top of me so she was sitting in my lap facing away from me, wearing only the flimsy bra. I fisted the band behind her back and pressed down on her hip, making her grind against my aching cock.
“Nothing to say?” I demanded, tugging on the elastic band. I wanted to undo my jeans and shove my cock so deep inside her she’d bleed all over me, but I was too focused right now. This was a battle of wills, and I was going to fucking win. No one was more stubborn than I was.
“Awesome,” I said. “We get to do this the fun way. Get your knees under you.” She turned and peered at me over her shoulder, looking as if she were both nervous and confused. I pushed and pulled at her until I had her positioned as I wanted—her straddling my lap away from me and shins against the couch cushions. I opened my legs to make room.
She cried out as I shoved her forward, and she flung her hands out onto the rug, stopping herself from tumbling face-first off my lap and onto the floor. The submissive position couldn’t be that comfortable for her. Her head was down and her ass up, but it was fucking perfect. I was comfortable and had all the access I wanted, her pussy right in front of me. She’d stare at my feet and her hands that were on the expensive Persian rug as I played. I’d tease and torture until she gave me everything.
“You stay like this until I say otherwise, you understand?” I spanked her, but this one was nothing. All it did was get her attention.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her body was quaking, and I skimmed my fingertips over the ridges of her spine. Power flooded through me.
“Did you plan it?” I asked. “Did you have murderous thoughts in that little head of yours leading up to it?” Her pink pussy was so lush and soft. I ran a finger through her wetness, swirling it over her clit.
“It was . . . defensive.”
Ah, so the girl was willing to talk after all. But . . . “That’s only half an answer.” I pressed two fingers to her and slid them back and forth, manipulating the bud of flesh that made her squirm.
She got her words out through pants of breath. “It was impulsive. But I thought about . . . killing him before.”
“Why?” I tensed. “He touched you more than once?”
It took her a goddamn lifetime to answer. “Whenever my father wasn’t around, he’d find a way to get me alone.”
Rage fired along my muscles. Not anger at her, but at the asshole she’d killed. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I did.”
Shit. I didn’t blame her for sounding defensive. I smoothed my hands over her ass. She must have removed the Band-Aid at some point, and I couldn’t see where the needle had gone in. Had the spankings hurt more against the sore muscle? She’d barely made a sound. How high was her tolerance for pain?
“Who’d you tell?” I asked.
“My father. He didn’t believe me. He said he talked to the guy and he . . . wouldn’t touch me again.” Her words were full of significance. “But nothing changed. If anything, it got worse.”
I’d made her the same promise, but the difference was I’d absolutely keep mine. “When I said no one else would touch you, I fucking meant it. I don’t like people touching my shit.” I skated my fingers through her crevice. “And this? This is all mine. You’re my property.”
Shivers rolled up her legs. Goosebumps pebbled on her skin. Once she got over her initial reaction, she was so responsive to my touch, and that wasn’t lost on me. She was wet. Turned on, not disgusted.
“Sounds to me,” I said, “like your dad was a piece of shit.” I rested my left hand on her ass and swirled the pad of my right thumb over her clit, making her shudder again. I lined up my index finger and slowly began to press it inside her, just up to the first knuckle. “Tell me what happened.”
Her whole body tensed at the intrusion, and the words spilled from her. “The man cornered me in my father’s office. I fought back, and—oh!”
I eased a little further, and one of her hands wrapped around my ankle, squeezing. I paused, letting her get used to the sensation. She was tight. Her pussy gripped my finger. “Keep talking.”