Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

I lie on the cold stage, blindfolded, wrists bound, waiting for him to make his move. My heart pounds loud enough to muffle the music, and my breath comes in shallow bursts.

He’s been silent for too long.

Anticipation gnaws at my insides, twisting them into knots. He stopped touching me, and I have no idea why. What if he hated the taste of my pussy? What if he took a closer look at my red pubes and decided I’m not worth pleasuring?

After the first time we were together, Samson said my body was so unpleasant to look at that he couldn’t muster an erection. What if he was right?

Tears sting my eyes, threatening to soak my blindfold. I can’t bear the thought of Brisket walking away, leaving me aching for a release he’s too disgusted to give. Humiliation burns my chest, filling my veins with fire.

His breath, hot and ragged, hovers inches from my skin. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating from his mouth, which feels almost like a caress. I shiver, waiting for more.

“Scared no one will make you come harder than he ever did?” His voice is a low growl, vibrating through the air, taunting, and cruel.

I swallow, my throat dry. Is he talking about Benito? Samson never gave me a measure of satisfaction—only pain. At least Benito strove to make me happy. I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the truth that no man has ever excited me more than him.

His gloved fingers brush my inner thigh with feather-light touches that make my breath hitch. I hate him for making me want him. He drags his fingers higher, so close to the outer lips of my pussy. I arch my back, needing more.noveldrama

“Your body is begging for me, Ginny,” he murmurs, his voice decadent and dark. “You’ve become even wetter.”

He’s right. I’ve never needed him more. I can’t stand how easily he’s breaking me down, how my body won’t cooperate with my need for control. I feel it slipping with every shallow breath, and I’m powerless to stop it. I bite back a whimper, refusing to give him a reaction. Men like Bob Brisket feed on a woman’s desperation.

Just as I expect him to move away, he presses a single finger to my entrance. Every nerve ending sets alight. I squirm against his touch, then he pulls back.

“And you say you don’t want this. Little liar.”

“Fuck you,” I snap.

He chuckles, the sound so menacing and dark that shivers skitter up my spine. “Oh, I plan to. But first, you’re going to beg for it.”

My stomach plummets. What the hell am I saying? Gritting my teeth, I hold onto a semblance of my crumbling restraint. The heat between my legs is unbearable, the need eating away at my resolve. His breath, hot and heavy against my aching pussy, makes it impossible. My self-control is slipping, sliding out of my grasp with each passing second.

I hate how easily he can unravel my restraint and how my body betrays my dignity. I need to stay strong, but I’m already falling apart.

His tongue flicks out, circling my clit, slow, deliberate. Sparks of pleasure detonate across my nerves, and my back arches off the stage. I cry out, desperate for more.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “Tell me how much you want it.”

I shake my head, refusing to give in. “You’re the one who lured me here. Seems like you want this even more.”

He pulls back again, leaving me trembling, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. My heart lurches. If he stops now, I’ll die.

“I’m not touching you until you beg,” he says, his voice hardening. “So be a good girl and ask nicely.”

Tears of frustration sting my eyes. This bastard is breaking me down, and I can’t stand that he’s winning.

“Please,” I whisper, despising how my voice wavers.

“Louder, Little Ginny. And be specific.”

“Please,” I say through clenched teeth, trying to curb the desperation. “Please, lick my pussy. Make me come.”

He hums in approval, finally pressing his tongue to my clit, flicking it with just the right amount of pressure. I gasp, my hips bucking, my lips parting with a gasp.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his voice a dark caress. “That’s my good girl.”

Before I know it, he’s circling my clit with unrelenting focus, flicking, sucking, each movement infusing me with shockwaves. I writhe under his control, every nerve ablaze, every breath a ragged gasp.

I can’t think, can’t breathe. My entire world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth on my pussy, the way he plays my body like his own personal instrument.

My eyes roll to the back of my head, my muscles trembling with the need for release. Pressure builds up in my core, threatening to explode. Just as I’m on the brink of climax, he pulls back, leaving me aching.

“You don’t get to come until I say so.”

Any other time, I would tell him to get fucked. Now, he’s stripped away what’s left of my pride. I need this. Need him. Besides, it doesn’t count if I’m blindfolded. I can pretend to be someone else. A sexy stripper entertaining a besotted client.

“Please,” I say through panting breaths. “Please, let me climax.”

His low, cruel laugh rings with satisfaction, making me shiver and squirm. “You’ll come when I give you permission, little Ginny.”

My body is afire, every nerve ending screaming for release, but he’s in control, seeming to relish every second of my torment.

His hands find my hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises as he moves some of my wetness to my ass. I shudder as something cold presses against my entrance, and I know what’s coming next.

It’s that fucking tail again.

The headband slides on next, and I clench my jaw.

He’s turning me into a fucking catgirl.

Again.

“Who’s my pretty little kitten?” he says, his voice a pleased rumble.

I grind my molars.

He blows a stream of warm air on my aching clit, making me shudder.

“It’s me,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m your pretty little kitten. Now, please, will you let me come?”

Chuckling, he gives in, his mouth returning to my clit with a renewed intensity. He slips his fingers in my pussy, curling around until he hits a spot that makes me gasp.

All thoughts of being a catgirl disappear into the ether as the pressure rebuilds. I writhe against his eager tongue, chasing my pleasure. Every nerve in my body screams for release, the pressure building to a fever pitch.

“Good little kitten,” he mumbles around my clit. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you’ll be purring for more.”

At his words, something inside me snaps. An orgasm crashes through my core, making every muscle tighten and convulse. Wave after wave of pleasure consumes my senses, and I fall adrift in a sea of bliss.

Brisket doesn’t stop—his clever tongue keeps stroking my clit until I’m reduced to a shuddering, sobbing mess. The finger deep in my pussy pumps back and forth, teasing out a second climax.

Only when my throat becomes hoarse from screaming does he pull away, leaving me gasping for breath. My body falls limp against the stage, shivering and spent.

“That’s my filthy little kitten,” he says, sounding almost proud. “You came apart so beautifully.”

My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I can’t even respond. I’m too exhausted, too broken, too furious with myself for allowing this to happen.

I hate him, but most of all, I hate myself for wanting him.

Trembling through the aftershocks, with my veins still pulsing with the bliss of my orgasm, I wait for the sound of retreating footsteps. Tension coils low in my belly, telling me this is far from over.

Since when did Brisket ever leave without coming?

The air shifts with the unmistakable weight of his presence. My pussy clenches, needing more than just his fingers. I brace myself, expecting him to take whatever satisfaction he needs, but instead, he loosens the ropes confining my wrists.

I meet him halfway, wriggling out of the bindings to free my hands. He doesn’t stop me when I reach up to the blindfold, so I peel it off. Harsh light floods my eyes, making me blink against the glare.

When my vision clears, I find Brisket on the stage, towering over me with his cock out. It’s long and thick and glistening with precum.

My breath catches in my throat. He doesn’t need to voice a command—I already know what he wants.

Scrambling up to my knees, I open my mouth, ready to take him down to the hilt. But just as I lean forward, he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

“No,” he growls.

Panic grips my chest. If he doesn’t want my mouth, then… I try to push away the thought, but it digs into my psyche, relentless. He’s going to fuck me. Stick that massive cock in my pussy and pound into me until he fills me with cum.

“Brisket,” I whisper. “I’m not on birth control.”

He chuckles, a dark rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “What would Mr. Montesano say if you carried the child of Bob Brisket?”

My heart pounds, the panic mixing with excitement. I scramble to my feet, ready to bolt, but he shoves me down onto the cold, hard stage.

“Don’t do this,” I scream, my voice still hoarse from climaxing.

He ignores my plea, his hands finding my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples with a cruel twist that sends a shock of pain radiating to my aching core. I cry out, the sound escaping before I can stop it, but that only seems to excite him more.

“You love it, little Ginny,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

I shake my head, not wanting to admit that the pain makes my clit throb. I clamp my thighs together, not wanting this stranger fuck me without a condom. Instead of forcing my legs apart, he shoves me down, moves further up my body, resting his hot, heavy cock between my breasts.

Relief floods my system, and I exhale a long breath.

He grips my tits, pushing them together around his shaft, before rocking back and forth. I’m drenched in sweat, and slick with precum sliding against my skin. With each thrust, he twists my nipples, sending a surge of sensation that makes my hips buck.

My body reacts against my will, a low moan slipping past my lips. He’s taking what he wants, and my own treacherous body can’t help but respond.

As he fucks my breasts, I reach down between my legs, finding myself aching and wet. My fingers press against my clit, circling in sync with the rhythm of his movements.

“Touching yourself, little Ginny?” he grunts, his voice thick with arousal.

I shake my head, which only makes him laugh.

“Since you get off on degradation so much, I will become your master.”

I can’t answer, too lost in the sensation, my mind succumbing to this twisted pleasure. His cock slides faster between my breasts, his grunts quickening with every stroke.

The tension coils tighter and tighter in my core, and I know I’m close. My hips buck, seeking more friction. I press harder against my clit, pushing my body back to that delicious edge.

With a roar, he shoves forward, his cock pulsing between my breasts, and then he comes with thick, hot spurts painting my chest and throat.

I screech at the warm mess splattering against my skin, but his movements don’t falter. Through panting breaths, he asks, “You like it when I mark you as mine?”

After his final spurt, he grabs the champagne bottle from earlier and shoves it into my pussy. I’m so wet that it glides in without friction. My muscles spasm at the sudden intrusion, making me forget I’m covered in his cooling cum. He jostles the bottle, aggravating the liquid. It’s like a carbonated rush, hitting my walls and cervix. I clench my teeth, bucking and straining against the unusual sensations.

“That’s my greedy little slut,” he rumbles, sliding it in and out. “Taking this champagne bottle like my good girl.”

“How dare you,” I say through clenched teeth, holding back my third orgasm. It’s bad enough that this bastard stuck a plug up my ass with an attached tail, now he’s making me climax with a bottle?

He moves the infernal glass object in and out of my pussy, stretching it beyond the point of pleasure. I jerk my head from side to side, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me come apart. But one twist of the bottle sends its cold edge grazing against a spot that sends me over the edge.

Another orgasm hits me like a popped cork, making me scream. As I’m panting through the spasms, he yanks out the bottle and pours the champagne over my chest. Cold liquid hits my skin, washing away the cum in a deluge of icy bubbles.

He stares down at me through that impenetrable visor. “You’re my favorite toy, and I will never let you go.”

My body quakes both from the cold and a surge of fury. No one has ever treated me with such disrespect and made me enjoy every minute. I despise my stalker from the depths of my soul, but deep down, buried beneath all the bullshit, there’s something darker, something I can’t deny.

I want more.