Page 74 of Z For Butterfly Man
Fury builds hot in my chest. “He was trying to steal you from me. That’s not salvation. That’s a crime worse than murder because… Can’t you see, darling? I can’t fucking live without you.” I trace the path of her tear. “Believe me, I tried. I just can’t.”
She stares at me, at my hidden face, my naked lips. I don’t feel it until her eyes narrow at it, until I taste salt that isn’t hers. Somewhere between fury and confession, I, too, have cried.
Clearing my throat, I wipe the wet trail off my chin and clip the mask back on. “Now, Shane and Mason. You were about to tell me the truth before we were rudely interrupted.”
She closes her eyes and turns her head away. She thinks she can go somewhere inside herself where I can’t follow. Foolish little butterfly.
“Open your eyes and look at me, darling.” I peer at the books on the shelves. I’ve bought all her works. I’ve copied her own shelves and TBR lists. I’ve read every single word she’s ever written, every one she’s ever read. How does she think she can run away from me or hide?
She doesn’t move.
“The table is gone, yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t punish you, my naughty little butterfly. There are so many other ways to make you scream.”
Nothing. She’s good at her emotional disappearance act.
“There’s something you don’t know about me or this place, my queen. See, this here is my own apartment, which means it’s the one place I get to be truly myself, where I make my art, where I read your masterpieces, where I watch you for hours and hours, through the cameras, from the window when you sit in that cafe you love so much…and in my head.” I laugh under my breath. “I know, I know. I sound crazy, like madly obsessed with you, like my whole world revolves around you, and it’s…true. What I want to say is, I spend almost all of my time trying to protect you, and that means I don’t get a lot of free time to, you know… I’m a man, and I have needs—”
“For fuck’s sake, if your incoherent rambling is your new form of punishment, it’s working.” Her eyes fly open, blazing. “Fucking kill me already. I’d rather be dead than spend one more second listening to this bullshit, one more second with you. Period.”
I pause for a second. Then I laugh. “You don’t mean that, darling. I get the first part, I’m not a master of words like you, but the second part, really? You’re mine forever, Reagan,and I’m yours. Eventually, you’ll understand that’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.”
“Eventually, you will understand that I will kill you myself.” She musters up a huge ball of phlegm and spits it in my face.
“You’re such a sucker for punishment, little butterfly, aren’t you? Okay.” I get up and walk into the adjacent room where I keep all the fun stuff. I clean the mask before I wheel a covered cart out. “What I meant to say earlier was that I’ve had a lot of time to fantasize about every kinky dark sex scene you’ve ever written, and with that…” I remove the blanket from the cart and reveal the contents. “Ta-da!”
A frown slowly contorts her face. “What the fuck?”
“This is every sex toy and device you’ve mentioned in your books. Speculum, plugs, spreaders, clips, clamps, wands, cuffs, impact toys, suckers, pinchers, presses, if you wrote it, it’s here. Even Dom’s stock is stashed in the other room. Where do you think I got the inspiration to build that table?” I walk back to the bed. “So, my beautiful butterfly,” my voice loses all humor, “you’ll tell me exactly what I want to know or the consequences will be even harsher than before.”
“Ah, so this is what you are after all, a lonely, ugly little boy who has got all of these toys but no one to play with? You’re pathetic.”
Lonely. Ugly. Pathetic. She’s trying to hurt me, to make me angry enough to slip up.
My palm lands on her pussy with a heavy swat. She gasps, and I do it again. And again. And again. Fourteen times until the gasps turn into moans she can’t suppress. Then I rummage through the cart and get the flogger and the labia spreaders.
“Did you and Mason fuck, Reagan? Scratch that. I know you did. How long had you been fucking? Did he make you come?”
“Are you not tired of these stupid questions? Shane is dead, so is Blake, so is Mason. Why do you give a fuck?”
“Mason is dead?”
“Yes… And now Jacob. You killed him.”
Mason is dead. When? How? She said he was just a neighbor who tried to help before everything went wrong. But now he’s dead too? “A lot of men die around you, Reagan.”
“They all deserved it.” Sorrow touches her face. “All except for Jacob.”
“Stop saying his name. That one deserved it the most.”
“Jacob. Jacob! JACOB!”
I part her thighs, clip the spreaders around her lips and pull hard until her pussy is stretched open.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” She’s kicking and screaming, but I’m in a trance.
“Punishing you the way every dominant you’ve ever written punishes his stubborn little brat.” My cock springs to life at that vision. Pink. Wet. Swollen. For a moment, I forget about the punishment. All I can see is her spread open for me. Completely and utterly mine to do with what I want. I revel in the fantasies feasting on my brain.
“You have such a pretty pussy.” I could fuck her right now. I could push inside and make her scream my name instead of Jacob’s. I could— “Oh.”
