Zinnia

The universe has always been against me. I wondered what I must have done to get on her bad side. And right now was no different. She fucking betrayed me, just like my body.

Before I can utter another word, my stalker flips me over, so I'm facing the wall with my behind crouching against his budged groin.

His hand was on my neck again, and before I can even try to comprehend, fire explodes across my skin. I yelp, gulping and—shamefully—whimpering, as I feel the sting of his election against my butt, begging to be set free.

"See how you tremble at my touch, little flower," my stalker whispered against the crook of my neck, sending goose flesh all over my body.

Somehow, he'd managed to grab the scissors from my hand. He replaced his hand on my neck with the scissors, while his free hand travelled down to my hot, glistering centre.

Fire ignites and my whole face goes red when I realize the sound that tumbles from my lips this time is a very obvious and very needy moan, anticipating his touch on my clit.

His index finger, I think, slit along my clit and at the same time, I felt the scissors digging against my skin. The pain, mixed with pleasure caused a very loud and treacherous moan to escape my lips.

"Such a dirty little slut for me. How does it feel knowing I can kill you, just as I can pleasure you, my little flower?" the scissors dig deeper into my neck, but the fear of getting hurt from it is long forgotten as all my attention was clouded with all the wonder his finger was doing to my pussy.

I feel the scissors travel past my neck and settle on my right boob. It picks against my skin. It hurts—I mean, it really fucking hurts. But the rush that immediately follows as his finger thrusts inside me—the pure ecstasy that floods into the space pain made—is euphoric.

And it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before with just myself.

The fucking bastard knows it, too. Because suddenly, he’s doing it again. And again. And again. Thrusting and picking, until my pulse roars in my ears.

I'm so wet, I swear to God, when he pulls out of me, I feel it drip right down my legs.

"Such a messy little slut. Tell me, my little flower, do you like how I pick this scissors against your skin while I pleasure you and make you beg for a release? The same scissors you tried to kill me with, seconds ago?" he murmurs in my ear, while his finger continued working its magic.

I tried zooming out his voice, but they seem to work so magically together, bringing me higher and higher to the hilt of ecstasy.

This time, three fingers are deep inside me in a single and brutal thrust. A loud moan escaped my lips, travelling through the hallway and maybe even the stairs.

"That's right my little flower. Moan for me. Feel my fingers stretch this greedy little cunt of yours,"

I hear the sound of scissors clanking against my floor right before I feel his hand back on my neck, choking me while thrusting ever so abruptly inside me.

Oh my God, he’s going to make me come. If he keeps this up, he's going to make me come.

But just as I felt the orgasm rapidly building in the pit of my stomach, he slowed in his thrust. I whimpered in frustration, unable to fully voice out my displeasure thanks to his hold on my neck.

"Beg me for a release. Beg me to make you come until your legs are quivering and you can't stand. Beg me to give you the most earth-shattering and memory-altering orgasm you've ever had," he momentarily released his hold on my neck.

I feel his warm tongue on the nape, sliding upwards to the back of my ear, before finally nibbling on it.

"Please," it wasn't a plea that spurred out of my mouth, but a desperate cry. It was answered and this time, he spun me and slammed my back against the wall.

He grabbed my neck again, forcing me to look into his purple eyes before brutally thrusting his finger inside me.

My orgasm begins to build again and with each violent thrust of his, pushing me to the edge, my eyes roll back. My breathing became rasped, and my vision blackened.

"Feel me inside you, my little flower, because next time, it wouldn’t be my fingers, but my cock wrecking this cunt," he murmured.

He squeezed my neck. "Look at me, little flower. Look into my eyes as you come," he ordered and I forced my eyes open, moaning ever so loudly.

He stared at me intensely, as though memorising my every reaction to his touch. And as my orgasm grew violently this time, making my pussy squeeze his fingers, he pulled out, making me growl through gritted teeth.

"Why did you stop?" I was outraged by this sick game he was playing, but I wanted this release. No, I needed this release.

"See how desperate you are for my finger. Is this what you want my little flower?" His fingers thrust into me abruptly, but it lasted only for so long before he pulled out again.

"You sick bastard! You're enjoying this,"

"Am I?" He smirked.

"Yes. Now, if you won't let me come, get off me."

"Is that what you really want? To come all over my fingers?"

"Yes!"

"Too bad," he said as he pulled his fingers out of my pussy and gently released my shivering legs. I watched as he made sure to suck the fingers that he'd been using to play with me clean and I hated that it made me even more aroused.

“Punishments are bittersweet, aren’t they, my little flower? Next time, you’ll know better than to go against my orders because I always maintain the upper hand.”

I wanted to say that there wouldn’t be a next time, but I didn’t want to tell a lie. Instead, I followed him with my eyes as he climbed through the window and walked out the same way he came in.

It wasn't until I was certain he was long gone that I curl into a ball in my bed and cried myself to sleep.

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