Chapter 6: His Toy

“Here.”

She flinched as something hit her lap. Heavy. Smelling of leather, smoke, and something darker..him.

It was a jacket.

His.

The same one she’d seen him kill in.

She stared at it.

Couldn’t even lift her hands at first.

Her body was still trembling…every nerve buzzing, every inch of skin flushed and oversensitive from the orgasm he’d ripped out of her with nothing but fingers and fury. Her thighs were sticky. Her lips swollen. Her chest bare and glistening with sweat and shame.

And now he expected her to wear his scent?

He expected her to wear him?

She pulled it on anyway.

Because she didn’t want to see what he’d do if she didn’t. Did she want to find out? Hell yeah. But was she scared. Definitely.

Her hands moved like they weren’t hers, trembling as she pulled the leather around her body. The sleeves swallowed her arms. The scent of him wrapped around her, into her, through her. It was suffocating. Consuming.

His scent made her stomach twist.

He didn’t look at her.

He just drove.

Hand on the wheel. Knuckles white.

Like he was holding back from destroying her all over again.

But then his other hand moved.

Back to her thigh.

Like nothing had happened.

Like her orgasm had just given him permission.

She jerked slightly, but he didn’t stop. His thumb dragged slow, hypnotic circles over the inside of her thigh, just above her knee.

So calm. So casual.

Like he owned the space.

Her legs clenched.

Too late.

He felt it.

His hand slid higher.

She grabbed his wrist.

He stopped.

But didn’t pull away.

His voice finally came..low, husky, satisfied.

“Good girl.”

“You want me to stop?”

She nodded.

He tilted his head.

“Your cunt doesn’t.”

Her cheeks flamed. Her thighs shook harder.

“P-Please, sir…”

That word.

That one word..sir..made his cock twitch inside his jeans.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear, breath a brand against her wet skin.

“You said please like a good girl.”

His tongue flicked the shell of her ear.

“But good girls don’t soak their thighs when they’re scared.”

Her breath hitched.

His fingers moved higher. So slow. So fucking patient.

Until his knuckles were grazing the soaked denim clinging to her pussy.

She whimpered. Tried to close her legs again.

He forced them apart with a growl.

“Don’t fucking hide from me. I want to touch you again”

He shoved the jacket up, baring her again.

“Still wet,” he muttered, dragging his finger over the drenched cotton. “Still throbbing.”

She whimpered louder. Her whole body was trying to disappear into the seat.

But he didn’t let her.

She sobbed.

“Please, don’t look at me…”

“Why not?” he growled. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

He didn’t touch.

Not yet.

He just watched.

Her folds slick and trembling. Her entrance pulsing from the earlier orgasm. Her clit swollen and desperate for more.

“You know what I should do?” he whispered.

She shook her head, eyes wide, heart slamming.

“I should bury my face between your legs and eat you until you forget your name.”

Her knees buckled inward. Her breath broke into short gasp.

“I should make you scream into the steering wheel,” he said, voice dropping, “while I tongue-fuck your cunt and hold your hips down like you’re trying to run from your own filth.”

She choked on a sob. Her thighs quivered. Her nipples tightened against the inside of the jacket.

“But I won’t,” he added.

She froze.

“…What?”

He smiled. Slowly. Cruelly.

“I’m not going to give you what you want.”

Her entire body shattered.

Her hips had already started rolling. Subtle, desperate. Her cunt clenching around nothing, dripping onto the seat again.

“P-Please…” she gasped.

He leaned in again, mouth against her cheek, fingers brushing her slick slit but never entering.

“No.”

He kissed the edge of her jaw. His breath hot against her neck.

“You don’t get to come again until you beg like a fucking whore.”

She sobbed.

“I didn’t want to come…”

“Your cunt did.”

He shoved two fingers inside her mouth instead of her pussy.

“Suck it”

She hesitated.

He gripped her throat with his other hand. Tight. Dominant. Unrelenting.

“I said suck.”

Her lips wrapped around his fingers, trembling.

He watched her…those eyes black, bottomless, hungry.

“God, you look so good like this,” he hissed. “Mouth full. Eyes watering. Pussy leaking.”

She gagged slightly. He didn’t pull out.

Just groaned.

“You like being used, don’t you?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer.

“You hate it, but your body fucking loves it.”

He pulled his fingers from her mouth and slapped them against her clit.

Once.

She screamed.

Not from pain.

From need.

From denial.

But he didn’t touch her again.

He zipped his pants back up. Adjusted himself. Let her sit there…exposed, humiliated, aching for him.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked calmly.

She didn’t answer.

He leaned in closer.

“Answer me.”

“…Yes.”

“Louder.”

She swallowed hard.

“…Yes, sir.”

He leaned back with a smirk.

“Not happening.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“What?”

He started the car.

“You don’t get to come again,” he said, pulling onto the road. “Not until I say so. Not until you crawl to me, dripping and pathetic, and beg me to ruin you.”

She gasped.

“Until then?”

He looked at her one last time, eyes burning with cruel desire.

“You’ll sit in that seat, in your own slick, wearing my jacket… and think about what a desperate little toy you’ve become.”

She couldn’t take it any longer as she snapped.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?!”

“Answer me, you sick fucking bastard!” she shouted, voice cracking. “I’m not some fucking doll you can drag around! I’m not your…your…your…fucktoy!”