RUINED ALREADY [18+]

|Forty-Two|

♠Emilio♠

When I arrived at Penelope's house the front door was open. I found her laying in bed asleep curled around a cushion. She wore a thin white negligée that ended mid thigh. One leg was thrown carelessly over the large pink cushion. Stating at her form I found myself getting hard. Sometimes I swore she wore white to taunt me. Looking sexy and seductive was an effortless task for my little bird. The hundred and one slashes over her body made her even more appealing to me. It was a troubled and sick thought to even appreciate the work of Juan Carnilio, but if it hadn't been for the fucker I wouldn't have found Penelope.

Looking at her again, my eyes flickered to her slim wrists then to her ankles; I found them sexy which was fucking ridiculous for what they were, wrists and ankles. I imagined her on her back with wrists bound by ropes and her ankles tied apart. The skin would weep in red, silently begging for release.

No matter how hard I tried not to picture it I couldn't deprave myself. I wanted Penelope's skin to bleed for me. I wanted her tied up and begging for mercy I wouldn't give.

It was all I could do , daydream about my fetish because that was all they would ever be. The first woman who had decided to try things my way had been hurt beyond repair. I hadn't forgiven myself for my dark deeds and yet here I was wanting to unleash the same monstrosity on Penelope who was easily breakable.

She purred and hiked her leg higher around the cushion, baring the tiny red lace thong she wore beneath. I wanted to remove it with my teeth and sink into her tight wet heat.
My cock agreed.
Down boy, not tonight.

Discarding my suit I slipped into bed remaining in only my boxer and shifted her so she was half lying on top of me.

She muttered something unintelligent but remained asleep. I didn't know when I'd fallen asleep but when I woke up Penelope was sitting on the floor with a journal over her knees.

"What are you doing?" I rasped, my voice groggy from sleep.
She gasped and snapped the small book shut. I realized it was the same journal she used to document her years as a captive.

"N-Nothing," she sputtered. "Are you hungry?"

Pushing the small journal beneath the nightstand she scrambled to her feet. My eyes held hers captive before trailing down her curvaceous body. One strap of her negligée had fallen o et her shoulder and damn if it didn't get my blood pumping into my dick.  I was strung so tight and hardening erection was not helping. I just needed to be buried deep inside her.
Reaching out I took her back to bed and pulled her beneath me.

"What are you hiding in that book?"
Was it fair to lead her on? What would her reaction be if I told her I already knew what she chronicled in that book?

Should I feel guilt? Because if I should I didn't. If I wanted to unravel Penelope piece by piece I wouldn't seek her permission and the only thing that wounded me was the fact that she wouldn't know the real me. She wouldn't know that I demanded bloodlust and she wouldn't know that I had all theses terrible dark desires bottled up inside. She couldn't.

She'd became an anchor in such a short span of time and I feared when the time came I wouldn't be able to shake the disease she'd become.

"It's nothing, Emilio."

"Normally, nothing means something. Tell me."

Her eyes flashed with defiance and I fucking loved it. I wanted her to say no to me just so I could show her that she couldn't. I was sadistic in nature.