inferno | 18+

XXV

My damp hair is ruffled up, my cheeks hot with desire.

"Get up," he commands. Something in me goes off. Like a switch. I do as he says, with no second-thought, standing about 4 yards away from him. The cold air hits my almost-naked body, and I shudder, but don't move an inch. I just stand there, engaging in the eye contact.

"You're cold?" he asks me. I nod, with a frown on my face.

Talk about a mood-kill.

"Good," he says, pleased, before leaning back into my chair. He spreads his legs, taking his suit jacket off. I watch with wide eyes, as he slowly unbuttons his white dress shirt. The bullet wound is so clear, a blind person would be able to see it. Something in me swoons. Pride? Guilt?

My eyes wander off to his toned stomach. His abs are more defined. More muscle has been added. More ink. I stare at the tattoo. It's a phrase that runs along his first rib, on the left side. He leaves his shirt unbuttoned, but doesn't bother taking it off. The wind coming from wherever in the manor, blows into the open space, and sends goosebumps on my skin. His shirt moves to the wind, and I almost have to squeeze my legs together.

"Strip. I want everything off. Slowly."

"Y-you want me to strip?" I ask, baffled.

A grin settles on his lips. "Come on, angel. Give me a show."

I stand a bit, not moving. Self-awareness hits me like a truck. No one has really seen me fully naked in years. Zakaria tilts his head, watching me, with a face I can't read, which is ironic seeing as it's my literal job to read people.

"What is it?" he questions. The iciness from his voice doesn't disappear, but something changes.

"No one has seen my body in years," I say, the truth spilling out of my mouth. Shock takes over him. I hate that he's seeing me this vulnerable. I'm on the verge of picking the butcherknife up, and throwing it at him, just to avoid this confrontation.

He gets up from his seat, cutting the space between us short. I gasp, when he grabs my hand, and moves it down his abs. His skin is so soft so soft his abs so hard. He keeps moving my hand, until I reach his crotch.

"Do you feel this?" he asks in a whisper. "This is what your body does to me. What you do to me. Your body is your shield, from war. Chin up, angel. They'd kill to see you fail."

He retreats himself, taking a seat once again. His body posture is relaxed. As if he's telling me there is no rush. That we have all the time in the world. Slowly, I do it.

I start by pushing the ripped maxi dress off my shoulders, letting the poor material fall to the floor. Then I run my hands over my stomach, before reaching behind me, unclipping my bra. It falls to the floor, and I wait for his reaction. For his face to twitch. For disgust to overcome him. For the self harm scars on my body, make him gag. Throw up. Sick.

I detect nothing but pure awe and fascination as he watches my body. He studies it. As if he's memorising every curve, every scar, every discolouration. When I feel comfortable enough, I link my fingers with my waistband, before pulling them down. Inch by inch, I grant him the show he asked me for.

I step out of my panties, standing completely naked in front of him. Darkness embraces the white in his eyes, as he hunches over, letting his arms rest on his thighs.

"Crawl to me."

My cheeks ignite. I simply give him a blank stare, waiting for him to repeat himself. For him to confirm that he's being serious. He simply grins wider when he sees the humiliation grab me by my throat and throw me against a concrete wall. He enjoys this as much as I do.

I've always had my guard up around Zakaria, but right now it's like I can let go. I can let him control my decisions. With a sigh leaving my lips, I slowly get on my knees. I don't make it to my hands, before his voice breaks free again.

"You see those beautiful panties lying next to you? I want you to grab them, and put them in your mouth."

I gape at him, dumbfounded.

"I'm not doing that," I state, crossing my arms. He cocks a brow, and gets to his feet. He walks behind me, and pushes my head down to the cold floor, leaving my ass hanging in the air. Everything is exposed to him right now. I can hear him getting on his knees.

He sticks a finger into me, and the sudden action makes a loud goran leave my lips. He keeps pumping his finger in and out of me, letting profanities out from under his breath, as I clench around him. I feel him insert a second finger. My heart quickens and I move my arm to try and stifle my sounds.

Zakaria is faster than I, and as if he reads my thoughts, he grabs both of my wrists with his free hand, and holds them behind my back. My focus is still on the euphoria his fingers are putting me through. He touches my clit with what I assume must be his thumb, and I hunch over, the sensitivity giving me a shock.

He holds me in place, leaving wet sloppy kisses on my back. "Where do you think you're going, huh?" he whispers, before biting my ass. I scream, the sting causing my brain to go into overdrive. Too much is happening at once.

"If it gets too much, you tap my hands three times. Understood?"

He curls his fingers, and my back arches upward as I feel his fingers massaging a spot rooted so deep within me, I think I might see sheep. Tears brim my eyes. The pleasure is so much. So so so much I never want it to end. He lets go of my arms for a second, and they slump to the ground.

I don't get to enjoy the pleasure for long, before a swat lands on my ass. I yelp in surprise, hunching forward once more. I squirm forward in an attempt to try to run, but fail graciously. Zakaria wraps an arm around my stomach, and brings me to my knees. His fingers stay inside me the entire time, and the new angle makes it possible for him to massage the spot way more precisely.

"Understood?" he grits out, his tone way harsher. Another swat lands on my thigh this time, and I cry out.

"Yes!" I yell, and he soothes my ass out with his palm.

"Good girl," he praises, and I think butterflies fly from ym stomach right to my insides. My orgasm builds up so quickly, I can't catch up with it. It feels like a knot tying itself inside of me, waiting to be released. I clench around Zakaria's fingers, throwing my head back on his shoulder. My mouth falls open, and my clench my eyes shut. It's right there...

"Are you going to come?" he asks me, and I nod my head. He laughs, and pulls his fingers out of me.

My eyes spring open, and I sit up, looking at him. He turns me around, and straightens his back, which aligns us, so that I have to crane my neck to look at him.

"Why'd you stop?" I ask him frantically.

"You think you'd get it this easy?" he asks me, and I stare at him confused. "Awh little angel..." he coos, fake sympathy scattered across his face. He puts his hand on my face, and strokes my cheek looking so deep into my eyes, that tears start brimming my eyes, with frustration.

"Please," I whisper, lowering my eyes. He grabs my jaw with his thumb, and index finger, forcing me to look at him again.

"No," he says harshly. "You think this is bad? I'm going to ruin so many of your orgasms, that you'll lose count. And when I finally let you come, it won't end there. I'll make you come so many times, that you'll be crying out in agony, begging me to stop."

I stare at him, fresh tears filling my eyes. He simply smiles at me. One of his dimples come on display. He leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

"If you try to relieve the pressure yourself, I will tie you up and make you come on a vibrator for hours and hours. If you bring a man home to try and satisfy the lewd things you've been thinking of, I'll tie him up and make him watch me eat you, until you're squirming beneath me. Trust me angel. I will know."

With that, he gets to his feet. I turn my head, watching as he grabs his suit jacket, and the AK47 before walking out of my front door, leaving me aching and naked on my kitchen floor.