CHAPTER 37
**ZION**
A slight tremor shakes her body as I trace my fingers along the soft curve of her stomach. The smoothness of her skin feels almost too perfect, and my body responds with an intense, aching desire.
My cock throbs, desperately wanting to be inside her, but I force myself to focus. She’s the enemy. I remind myself, repeating it like a mantra as my gaze travels downward, landing on the delicate, bare skin between her thighs.
Her plea is almost a whisper,
“Please… don’t.”
It reaches me like a fragile touch, and I struggle to control the growing arousal inside me. I could have her if I wanted, take everything she has to offer, but that’s not what I’m here for. I want to inflict pain, but not in that way. I see her lips quivering, her fear palpable and deeply affecting me, intensifying my desire.
“I’d love nothing more than to explore every inch of you, to slide my fingers inside and feel how wet you are…” I lean in closer, my thumb tracing gentle, teasing circles above her mound.
“But I don’t fuck liars.” Her cheeks flush a deep pink, her lips parting in a mixture of fear and something else.
“I don’t give a damn what you think or want,” she snaps, her voice dripping with contempt. “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last person alive. Guess we finally agree on something.” She curls her lip in disgust before wrenching her wrists free from my grip and shoving at my chest.
Her feeble push makes me smile, a grin spreading across my face as I enjoy the tiny spark of defiance in her eyes, though it barely compares to my own fury.
She glares at me, her anger clear but still overshadowed by my intensity. It takes a moment for her to act, but she eventually scurries to the side, carefully avoiding any contact with me.
Her bare ass sways with each hurried step toward her dresser. My cock strains painfully against my shorts, the bulge unmistakable as I watch her.
She yanks open the top drawer, her hands trembling slightly, and pulls out a shirt, quickly slipping it over her head. With the same urgency, she grabs a pair of leggings and pulls them on, the fabric hugging her legs as I follow its path with my gaze.
I watch her struggle with her clothes, her frustration palpable as she pulls on the leggings. My gaze lingers, savoring her discomfort.
I casually stroll over to her dresser, opening the top drawer with a slow, deliberate motion.
"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice wary, not daring to come any closer.
I raise a finger, signaling her to wait a moment. "Patience, Snowflake," I murmur, a smirk playing on my lips as I slowly, deliberately look her over.
My eyes trace the curve of her neck, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the nervous flicker in her eyes.
Inside, I find a small collection of her panties, neatly folded and tucked away. My fingers graze over the delicate fabric before I pull out a lacy pair, holding them up with a smirk.
“You forgot to wear these?” I tease, letting my eyes rove over the lacey edges. I let out a soft, mocking chuckle. “Not that I'm complaining.”
Her face flushes deeper, her eyes widening as she catches sight of the underwear. She tries to ignore my taunts, but the tension in the room is thick. I lean closer, my voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur.
"Not complaining at all!"
I hold up the delicate lace, letting the fabric dangle provocatively from my fingers.
I lift the panties to my nose, inhaling deeply. The scent is intoxicating, a heady mix of her natural aroma and something uniquely her.
Wait.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Put them back, you moron!" she seethes, her voice trembling with anger.
I ignore her words, just as I always do.
"You don't want to put on these panties... but they're clean, I promise," I say, pausing for emphasis.
"Oh, I see how it is. You prefer them dirty now, don’t you?" I lean in closer, my voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "You want me to put my cum on your panties again, don't you?"
'W-what?"
“Did you like the feel of my cum on your skin? Is that it? Is this becoming a habit of yours?” I let the question hang in the air, my smirk widening as I see her face flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
“Not that I mind, of course. In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.”
Her eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to retort, but I cut her off, my tone turning even more mocking.
“I mean, forgetting to wear your panties, practically begging for my attention... it’s almost sweet. Like you can’t get enough of me, even when you pretend to hate me.”
She glares at me, her fists clenching at her sides, but I can see the tremble in her hands.
“You’re sick,” she spits out, her voice shaking with suppressed rage.
I chuckle, thoroughly enjoying the effect I have on her.
“Sick, maybe. But honest. And I think you like that, deep down. You like the attention, even if it’s twisted.” I twirl the panties around my finger, watching her face contort with a mix of emotions.
I walk back to her with the panties dangling from my fingers, a smirk tugging at my lips. She takes a step back, but I close the distance quickly, grabbing her arm firmly but not harshly.
I lean in, so close that I can feel her breath on my face. "Tell me," I whisper, "how does it feel knowing I could do anything I want right now?"
"Zion..." her voice comes out slightly raspy.
“Admit that you like the way I make you feel. The way I dominate every part of your life, even this.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something other than defiance in her eyes. But she quickly masks it, her lips pressing into a thin, angry line.
“No, I don't!” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart. We’ll see.”
"Your a disgusting bastard "
I shrug nonchalantly, the smirk never leaving my lips. “Disgusting, pig, bastard, manwhore... nothing I haven't heard before,” I say, my gaze trailing slowly down her body, lingering in a way that makes her squirm.
“But it’s not my fault, most of the time. Desperate girls like you always try to leave an impression.” I let the words hang, savoring the way her discomfort grows.
“And whether you like it or not, you’ve definitely made this moment unforgettable.”
Her gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet mine, her face burning with humiliation. The intensity in the room is almost palpable, the intimate violation of her privacy a stark reminder of the power dynamic between us. I relish in her discomfort, enjoying the twisted control I have over her as she stands there, struggling to maintain her dignity in the face of my relentless provocations.
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