Primal Pursuit - Page 140

She’s spread open, unable to move, tits bare and nipples semi-hard and… Yeah, her thighs glisten, her cunt lips wet, and even though she’s scared, she’s all turned on.

Fuck.

I can’t get enough of her.

Pulling my gun, I run the muzzle over her, circling her nipples, down to her cunt where I graze it over her clit, then slip it between her cunt lips. Her lips part, and she’s pushing her body toward me. She wants more.

My psychopath rabbit.

I raise the gun, lick it clean of her. And she’s so focused on me she could be a laser.

But I have no intention of shooting her, scaring her with the gun.

Not when I have a knife.

Not when there’s something I want to do to her.

Most of all, I want her fucking truth. This standoff isn’t viable. “I know you’ve been trying to play me, Poppy. From the moment you walked into Myth under a lie. To getmyattention. Not Toby, not anyone else. I’m sure someone who’s been here talked, mentioned names they shouldn’t have. Maybe, if I feel like it, I’ll find out who fucked and told on us. Then again, maybe I won’t. I think you have a way of getting people to talk.”

I flick open my switchblade and approach, running it down her breast to her nipple, letting it drag on the skin enough to draw tiny dots of blood. She hisses, and I do the same to the other tit.

“What exactly did your uncle do? Rape? Finger fuck you? Sodomize?” I watch the micro-expressions on herface, the things she can’t control, the things she doesn’t even know she’s doing as I probe for a line to the truth. “Did he make you blow him while he moaned about how no one understood him?”

There’s a flicker of something.

I push some more.

“Did he slide his fingers into your panties and feel all this sweet goodness?” I lean on the wall next to her, knife at her thigh as I use my other hand to push fingers into her hot cunt. “Tell you only you could alleviate his sadness?”

Her entire body jerks, and it’s not from pleasure. It’s nerves. I hit something with my words. I pull free of her and straighten.

See, I’m betting he did that. Stuck a hand down her top, played with her pretty tits, made her touch him. Maybe blow him. That might have been a line. The thing that snapped her out of it.

“And your aunt played that song?”

“It was her favorite,” she says with venom. “She played it a lot. But…when he came to my room, to talk about how sad he w-was, a-and touched me, she played it loud. Like she didn’t want to know.”

“Or she fucking just let him get his rocks off with a kid and didn’t care.”

“Maybe.”

“So, you what? Stole that ugly necklace you have in your jewelry box and left?”

Her eyes narrow. “I took what I could as payment, and when he came looking, I put him in his place.”

Her mouth snaps shut, and case closed.

I don’t push further. I wanted to know that story, andnow I do. But this isn’t why she’s here. And it’s not like I want to uncover something I don’t know.

I do know.

I just want her to admit it.

I want her to take the fucking metaphorical knife and flay herself for me, lay herself open, bare, bleeding. Beyond exposed.

I want her to tell me her truth. I’m going to make her.

“Talk, Poppy. Tell me everything.”