Page 38 of Z For Butterfly Man
She gasps at the loss, her hips chasing my mouth uselessly. “What—why—”
“You asked me to stop. Wish granted.” I click the mask back into place and look at her flushed face, her dilated pupils, the way her chest heaves.
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” she rasps.
“Who is Mason?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play stupid. You just said his name. WhileIwas eating your pussy. While you were moaning. Who the fuck is Mason?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“We had a deal, Reagan.” My hands brace on either side of her head. “If you lie to me, I fuck you. Do you remember that deal?”
Her throat works. “I’m not lying. I was asleep. I don’t remember—”
“Stop! You whispered his name. Clear as day. Now you’re going to tell me who he is and why you were dreaming of him when a tongue was on your clit or I’m going to make good on my promise.”
“Please…just… There’s a new burning in my arm.” Panic flashes as her gaze lands on her left arm for a split second before her eyes dart to the right one, where I’ve hooked a drip.
Smart girl, trying to distract me.
“That’s an IV,” I tell her, moving to her side. “Saline and nutrients. You haven’t eaten in two days.”
Her eyes widen. “Twodays?”
“When I brought you here, you stayed unconscious for about fourteen hours. Then we had our talk yesterday. After that you slept through the night, and today is a new day. I’ve kept the heater on all night for you. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Disoriented, she swallows. “Th-thank you.”
“You gave me something real. You deserved a reward.” I brush hair back from her forehead. “You had a lot of sadness last night, my sweet butterfly. So today, I wanted us to have some fun.” I twist the pin in her shoulder. “But you whisper another man’s name in a wet dream,” I yell over her scream.
“FUCK YOU!”
“In a minute, darling.” I move to the bench, pick up the item I’ve been saving for this moment. I hold it up so she can see. “Remember this?”
She pales as she recognizes her rose toy. Red, well-used and smelling of her cum.
“I do, my naughty little butterfly.” The memory of that night tightens my balls. “I took it from your drawer before I carried you out of the house. Couldn’t resist.” I turn it over in my hands. “Do you remember? When you thought you were alone in your bedroom, touching yourself, making those pretty sounds. But I was right there. Watching. Learning exactly what makes you come. You told me you were thinking about me. Was it true or just another lie?”
“I wish it weren’t true. I wish I’d been lying.”
My eyes close behind the mask. She wishes she could erase me from her desires. Scrub me out of her fantasies like I’m a stain instead of the inevitable conclusion her body has always known. Why, Reagan? Why, when I love you in ways no one elsecould? Why, when I shed blood, drink your piss and rip my own heart out for you? Why would you not want me?
“You wish you’d been lying. You wish you’d been thinking about someone else. The detective, maybe? The man with the motorcycle? Or this mysterious Mason you’re trying so hard not to tell me about?”
“I…I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you didn’t, but that’s exactly what you feel.” I activate the toy at her favorite rhythm. The soft pulsing sound fills the room. “Even when your body tells a different truth. You were so wet for me that night. You came for me harder than you’ve ever come.” I move between her legs again, holding the toy just above her clit, close enough that she can feel the vibrations, anticipate them.
Her tongue darts to lick her lips as her thighs clench in response.
I smirk. “Look up, my sweet liar.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
