Richer Than God - Amelia Wilde Page 0,49

up.

I don’t know how to describe what happens to me at the sight of her on her knees like this, open and ready. Killing takes a certain amount of precision. It’s best if it’s done with concentration, with accuracy. I’m going to fuck her ass the same way.

There’s lube close by. I own a fucking whorehouse; there’s always lube. I watch her body tense at the chill and hold her down when she tries to squirm away from it.

“It’ll be easier if you relax.”

“There’s no way.” She gasps. “It can’t be easy.” Another thrash against the covers. “Please—”

“I love the begging,” I comment. “It’s one of your best features. But you know you’re not going to stop me, right?”

Brigit tries to say something, but I breach her with a fingertip. Up to the next knuckle, and the next, until there are tears at the corner of her eyes. Maybe she thinks she’s trying to get away, but she’s not. It’s the most astonishing thing, the way she’s pushing back onto my finger while she cries.

“Yes.” That’s her reward. “That’s good.”

She sags forward a fraction of an inch—all the room she has—and I work a second finger in with the first. I’m losing patience. Breathe it out, breathe in calm. Ha, fuck—it didn’t work. I fuck her perfunctorily with my fingers then wrestle with my belt. A bright sensation comes over my skin like the whisper of a sheet, and I climb up behind her and spread her with both hands.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispers.

I lean down and kiss her cheek. Brigit yelps like she’s been stung. “I do,” I tell her.

That’s enough talk.

I notch myself against her and push. She gasps and goes still, stunned, except for her fists—they open and close on the blankets in time with her desperate panting. Fuck, she’s tight. It’s better than I expected, and more difficult. The stretch of her around me is enough to shut down the parts of my brain that play nightmare scenarios over and over and over. They’re gone, into a black field of stars. There’s only her shivering body, and me, taking it in the basest possible way. There is nothing dirtier than this. There is nothing more shameful for her. Another tear slips out, runs down her cheek and over her nose and glistens on the comforter before it evaporates.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” Her eyes go wide at the praise, a sob wrenching itself from her chest. “Look at you. It must feel like I’m splitting you apart, and you’re surviving it.”

“It does,” she admits, her cheeks a deep-pink turning to red.

More tears.

I wedge in another few inches, and she cries out while I sink in to the hilt. Her thighs tremble, feet kicking uselessly.

“That’s not why you’re crying.”

Brigit sucks in a deep breath but can’t fully catch it. It takes her two more tries to answer. “No,” she manages.

A lock of hair has fallen into her face, and I brush it away. With her head turned to the side like this, I can only see one of her eyes, but it’s so fucking beautiful I could die. “Tell me why you’re crying.”

A steadying breath. “No.”

I pull out and thrust back in. I’m not gentle about it. “It would be better for you if you did.”

“Would it?”

I laugh. “No. But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say… what?” Her face is scarlet now, and I settle into a rhythm of deep strokes. I add more lube out of the goodness of my heart. “Tell me what to say,” she begs. More tears. “What do you want me to say?”

“The reason for all these tears,” I tell her jovially while I fuck her ass with the kind of viciousness I’d normally reserve for other, less savory activities. “Come on. You’re being such a good girl. Don’t stop now.”

“I’m crying because it hurts.” Brigit gets her hands under her and rocks back against me.

“And?”

“And what? What?”

I grab for her hair and twist it around my fingers, pulling until her head is up, until she’s on hands and knees, until her back is arched so deliciously that I might not recover from this. “It hurts, and what?”

“I like it,” she cries. “I like it.”

I knew she’d say it. I knew, but the effect it has is magnetic. It’s like gravity. It’s like a supernova. The last of my control shreds, and I cage her in with one hand, the other on her a fist in her hair,