Dead of Summer

Which sucks for me, quite frankly.

“But we wouldn’t be here if you weren’t everything and more.” He’s quick to sit back again, and while a big part of my brain whispers that he doesn’t actually care about me or how I feel, that he just wants to fuck me for himself, I can’t help the confused tilt of my head when he moves back enough to kneel between my thighs, his lips brushing over my left hip in an almost-kiss.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckles, even without meeting my gaze. “If you’re not enjoying it when I fuck you, if I can’t make you come apart on my cock, then what’s the point?” His lips skim my skin, moving closer and closer to the apex of my thighs.

My heart pounds, and now I can’t help but remember every little thing from the showers.

Like how good his mouth had felt.

And how hard he’d made me come.

Tonight is just as much of a good thing as it had been last night. Physically, at least. He licks over me, his tongue finding and stroking over my clit before dipping back down again. Within a minute he’s tasting every bit of me he can reach, his tongue plunging into my body and his eyes closed like he really, genuinely enjoys this.

For my part, I can’t keep still. I writhe and squirm in his grip and the cuffs, unable to tear my hands free to grip his hair like I had last night. It makes me feel more vulnerable than in the showers, especially when it’s so easy for him to hold my hips down and keep me mostly still.

“Kayde…” I squeak out his name when the fear ebbs, warmth flooding me as he adds two fingers alongside his tongue.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” my psychopath purrs, pressing a kiss against my inner thigh. His fingers continue, unwavering as he thrusts them in and out of me.

“I just—” God, was I really just calling his name for the hell of it? That’s embarrassing as hell. “Never mind, I just—” My words aren’t getting any better, and I feel heat crawling up my neck to stain my face for him to see my embarrassment.

“That’s okay. You’re being so good for me, aren’t you Summer?” He adds another finger, scissoring them and drawing a whine from my lips. “Good girl. So good at taking whatever I want to give you. Aren’t you just the most perfect little thing?” His words make my head spin, and if I could change any detail about this, it would be for him to stop talking.

I can’t handle the pleasure and what his words do to my squirming insides.

His tongue flicks over my clit once, then again, before his teeth graze along the sensitive bud instead. It pulls noise after noise from my open mouth, though I somehow remember there are kids in the next room and I refuse to wake them up and let them get hurt.

“Do you think you can be quiet for me?” he asks, sitting up once more with his fingers still thrusting lazily into me. “You really can’t be loud here, unfortunately. As much as I want you to scream, that might be bad.” He glances at the shared wall, then back down at me.

“I know I have to be quiet.” I say the words quickly, eyes on his as my hips rise to meet his fingers and my hands twist in the cuffs.

“Can you?”

I definitely don’t know how to tell him I’m not sure. It’s embarrassing as hell, for one. And I don’t need him doing something drastic like cutting out my fucking tongue.

But my silence must be answer enough. Kayde moves, standing up and leaving me alone on the bed before he’s rummaging around in his nightstand again. The same one he’d gotten the handcuffs and knife out of.

“Please tell me you don’t have a drawer full of BDSM gear at a kid’s summer camp,” I can’t help but hiss at him.

A smile flickers on his lips, and he doesn’t look at me. He only murmurs, “Okay, I won’t.” Then lifts up a leather strap attached to?—

My brain slams to a halt and I shake my head. “I changed my mind. I can stay quiet.”

“Mhmm.” He kneels on the bed between my thighs again, holding the gag in one hand and sliding his other hand up my thigh. “Of course you can.”

“You’re not putting that in my mouth,” I tell him sharply, glaring at the pink silicone bone that makes up the other part of the gag.

“Pretty sure I am,” he argues with me sweetly. “But you can bite down as hard as you want. You won’t break it.”

“I’m gonna break you,” I snap automatically, unable to keep my mouth shut as my heart flutters fearfully in my chest.

He only rolls his eyes at that, before pinning me with the incredulous, disbelieving look of his that I hate. “Say that again when you aren’t handcuffed to the bed and wet as hell from my tongue and fingers,” Kayde invites, leaning up with the gag in one hand. “Open up, Summer. Don’t make me get the knife.”

That does it. The threat knocks the bravado right out of my chest, and I sag against the mattress, fingers flexing. “You…” I don’t know what I’m going to say. I don’t know how I can argue, especially when he taps my cheek gently, obviously waiting.

“Just for a little while,” he promises, sliding the pink silicone dog bone between my lips and deftly buckling the gag behind my head. The bone slides between my teeth, and when I bite down experimentally, it has just enough give that I don’t feel like I’m being choked.

“Just so you don’t disturb anyone. How are you feeling, by the way?”