Filthy 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

gazed up at him, dazed. “Remember when I gave you that every day, Faye baby? Remember when I made you cum over and over?” He dug his hands into my hair and jerked my head up to his, twisting my body awkwardly. “But you had to ruin that. You took it all away and for what?”
    “I haven’t been with anyone else.” I knew now that he didn’t know. The look on his face said it all. He was angry, but he wanted to believe me. He had to believe me if I was ever going to get any cocaine. “Only you, Taylor. Only you.” A tear leaked out of one of my eyes.
    A sneer covered his face. “You’re mine. Only mine.” He said the words right against my face before releasing me. My head hit the carpet with a thud. Seconds later he was slamming into me, his big cock spearing me. But he was thrusting too hard, going to deep. His cock seemed to rip through me, and I tried to scramble back on my elbows. He stayed my weak movements with his big hands. “You’re never going to run from me again. Ever!” He shouted the words as he fucked me hard, slamming his dick inside as far as he could go, demanding I take more.  
    “Taylor, you’re hurting me.”
    “Don’t fucking call me that,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
    “Daddy,” I screeched. “Daddy, you’re hurting me.”
    The plea seemed to spark something in him, he slowed down his pace and reached behind him. His hand came back with something silver. A blade clicked into place just as panic kicked me in the gut. I tried to scramble backward, but again he stopped me.
    “Do you remember this, Faye baby?” He kept thrusting his hips as he held the knife to my face.
    I did. I remembered all of it. He used the blade on me after Rhett left, on my stomach particularly. He would slice my skin, making shallow, painful cuts. Cuts that wouldn’t scar so there would be no lasting evidence. But the pain was there. Always there in the back of my mind.  
    “Do you remember how good it was with the knife?”  
    “I—” The slice of the blade on the skin just below my left breast ended the words in my throat and made me cry out in pain. He tossed the knife away and pressed his fingers against the wound, still moving his hips.  
    “Look how pretty it is.” He lifted his fingers up for me to see. They were dark with my blood. He swiped one finger across my closed lips. “It’s so red. So pretty.” More tears pressed at the back of my eyes. He moved his hips faster and fingered the cut again. “Don’t you like it?” He rubbed his fingers together, smearing the crimson. I watched the movement in slow motion. It was never-ending. Until it did end. He pressed his hand to the cut harder, squeezing it, coaxing more blood out. He snaked his damp fingertips between our bodies and rubbed the moisture on my throbbing clit.  
    I moaned and he fucked me harder. It hurt, the way he stabbed into me roughly, but something sweet bloomed from the pain. Even though I had just cum, even though not even ten minutes had passed, the orgasm surprised me. Sneaking up on me. I was too weak to fight it. I let it take me. I let it swallow me whole while he fucked me harder, while blood dripped from my superficial wound. Just as it was ending he pulled out of me, fisting his cock a few times before groaning and hot liquid spurted onto my stomach.
    I lay there on the pristine white carpet, my body limp and achy. “Please.” The word slipped from my lips of its own accord. I needed the coke. I needed it now. I couldn’t wait any longer. I felt like mush. Like complete and utter shit. I’d cum, sure. But all of it left me feeling worse than before, which I didn’t think was possible. “Please…”
    “Please, what?” he chuckled over me, sucking his bloody, cum covered fingertips into his mouth.
    “Please, daddy. I need a bump. Please.” I hated how I sounded.  
    He leaned in and pressed his palm to the side of my face. His eyes searching mine. “Not yet, Faye baby.” He smiled. “Not