Page 26 of Manic

“Mm, what else?”

My breath tangled when he steadily dragged his hand down my stomach again, his fingers ghosting the edge of my sweats. He grazed my skin, slow and unhurried, until heat treacherously pooled between my thighs.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hating myself more and more with each passing second as a soft moan crawled up my throat. He kicked my ankles apart, and I gasped when his hand dipped inside. He traced a finger over my clit and let out a satisfied grumble.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered. “I always knew there was a darker side to you. Do you like when I touch your cunt?”

Yes, I wanted to say, but the word was stuck in my throat. I refused to open my eyes as his finger worked over me again and again. This time, my hips moved on their own, and I let out a faint, pleasurable cry.

“Answer me.”

“I fucking hate you,” I growled.

“Is that so?” He swiped over my clit again before plunging them into my pussy, a low chuckle beneath his breath. “Your mouth says one thing, but your cunt says another.” He tisked. “You’re making a mess all over my hand, Sutton.”

“I hate you,” I repeated, yet the noise that escaped me just now said otherwise. He knew it as he worked faster. My mouth fell open on a sharp moan, and I clawed at his arm, his neck, until I was practically panting.

Truthfully, I hated that I liked the thrill of it, like Manic was satisfying some twisted part of my soul. My body writhed for more. When my hips rolled again, he spun me around.

My eyes flew open, meeting his lust-filled stare and knowing smile.

“I’ve always wondered what your mouth felt like,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Get on your knees.”

“What?” I breathed, frantically shaking my head. He pulled his gun free and waved it at the marble floor, his lip curling as the demand tore from his throat again.

“Get on your fucking knees, Sutton.”

His other hand worked the belt at his hips until it flew open, and he stalked forward. I backed away with another head shake, though my steps halted when my shoulders thumped against the windows.

He leaned closer, trapping me. “If you want to behave like a brat, I’ll treat you like one. Then, maybe, you’ll finally cooperate and listen to what I have to tell you. And brats get on their knees for their punishment.”

“Is this the only way you can get someone to sleep with you, by cornering them?” I clipped, my voice wavering as I recalled what he’d said he wouldn’t do last night. What he said he wouldn’t do just this morning.

He ignored my jab and pushed on my shoulder with a devilish grin. As I sank to my knees, a tear slipped down my face. It was unfortunate that I couldn’t tell whether it was out of sheer anticipation or fear or anger.

“Is this what does it for you?” I pressed.

He chuckled, eyes dancing. “This is what does it for you, apparently. Now be a good girl and open your mouth.”

I flattened my lips, refusing to give in so easily.

He was going to have to take it.

Regret worked its way in, my heart stopping, when he pushed the gun against the seam of my lips and forcefully pried them open. My pulse hammered as the metal hit my teeth, but I held his stare with challenge, my cheeks hollowing around the barrel. The metallic tang of steel and gunpowder coated my tongue.

I fought the shaking of my body, but alongside my fear that was a simmering buzz of excitement. Thrill. A fucking adrenaline high.

He wouldn’t kill me, not if he was ordered to keep me alive. But he liked this—the control—and apparently so did I because my thighs grew unbearably slick.

He pulled his cock free, and I didn’t need to glance at it to know how fucking big it was. Then the gun slid out of my mouth, scraping against my teeth, and I finally risked a glance.

My stomach fluttered.

He was so large I knew that I’d choke on it. There was no chance in hell I’d be able to take it all. A thick vein ran up the side of his cock, pulsing in his fist as he handled himself.

Panic seized me when he guided his hips forward, his hard cock on full display. And yet, warmth settled lower and lower between my thighs, and I fought the urge to rub them together. Shit.

His left hand slowly worked his length, and the sight had my blood simmering. I wanted to bite his dick off, but that gun held me hostage, and I could do nothing but stare and wait. Yet my chest heaved, anticipation coiling low inside me as he moved closer.