Sabotage

by Shantel Tessier

One thing you need to know about me—I’m not you. Once you understand that, this will make more sense.

My breathing picks up, and the sound of her sucking on my cock fills the formal dining room. She rarely gags. No, I’ve trained my little slut very well.

She may have danced and flirted with other men, but I knew she’d come home to me—she always does—needing to be fucked.

That’s one reason I forced her to live with me. I’ve always got my eye on her.

Her white clubbing dress dips low in the front, showing off her impressive tits, and is barely long enough to cover her pussy. I’m going to shred that thing before the night is over with.

“Say it, princess. Tell me you’re my good little slut, and that you’ll do anything to please me.”

Some women are stuck-up bitches who don’t like to explore their sexuality. Raylee Lexington Adams isn’t one of them. This woman is pure ecstasy. The fact I hate her fucking guts makes this even better. Knowing she hates me just as much is icing on the cake. We are hate sex at its finest.

I’m all about playing games. Raylee and I have been playing them for years, and I learned quickly that the only way to win against her is to play the long game.

I hate that about her. Hate how she parades around town with other men. Hate how she knows what to wear to turn me on, and how I can smell her in this house. It’s aggravating, to say the least. I hate this bitch with everything inside me, but even I can’t deny that I want her. That’s what makes this so much worse. That I can’t get enough of her.

Good. I want her angry. Because I’m going to humble her real soon.

My princess wants more. A slut is never satisfied.

“Clean it up,” I whisper. Her body trembles while she breathes my name. “Colt⁠—” “Clean it up!” I order, rising from the chair. I grip her hair and shove her face next to the cum on the floor.

The desperation in her voice makes me want to cave and bury my face between her legs to eat her out right here while she licks my cum up off the floor. But I don’t because this is what she does. She’s my slut, not the other way around.

“Desperation tastes so good,”

I grab the nearly see-through material she calls a dress and rip it down the center, exposing her breasts. She isn’t wearing a bra. I’m honestly surprised she was even wearing underwear.

And this is about my control over her right now, not the other way around. She’s my fucking toy to use and pass around.

She looks like she’s been through a thunderstorm—tears, drool, and cum cover her face and hair. She looks fucking gorgeous.

I know she’d do anything to get off right now. I left her on the edge for a reason.

“Let me make this very clear, princess.” I fist her hair and yank her head back while I trail kisses along her jawline. “You are to please them. Only I please you. Understand?”

They know how much I hate her, but they also know I’d kill them if they ever touched her behind my back. What can I say? I’m a complicated man.

I center her over the left corner with her back facing where I stand. That way, her ass and pussy hang off the edge of the table, and her head almost hangs off the other side. Easy access for everyone.

“Sluts don’t get to choose how they’re fucked, princess.”

I look down at her pretty face, and tears run from her eyes like a waterfall. Could be because her body is twisted like a pretzel right now. It could be because she needs to get off. That’ll have to wait.

She gives me too much power over her. Stupid girl. She knows I’ll only take advantage of it.

“Feel how wet you are.” He chuckles at himself. “But I’m not surprised. Sluts prefer to be used by multiple cocks at once.”

“Don’t you dare, Raylee,” I growl, knowing exactly what’s happening. I’ve trained her. “Don’t you dare fucking come for them.”

I didn’t offer her up so she could get pleasure from them. Only I can please her.

If she comes on Jenks’s dick, I’m going to make her wish she hadn’t. I’ll beat that ass black and blue.

I’ve fucked her enough to know that it takes quite a bit of effort to get her off. Who knew three dicks would do the trick?

Her pussy wasn’t enough for him. I get it. It’s never enough.

Do you ever get tired of being a woman? Don’t you ever want to know what it feels like to be a man, just once?

Who says the man you marry and have three children with won’t fuck your best friend in your bed, all while your wedding pictures hang on the wall and he tells her he won’t leave you because of the kids? Then what? I fucking kill him, that’s what. Then I spend the rest of my life in prison while my mother raises my children, and they end up getting bullied because their mother is a murdering psycho who was once a whore back in her twenties.

No. My mother raised me to fight fire with fire. Even if that means having to burn myself along with him.

It’s a black Lamborghini Sian and cost him a whopping 3.6 million dollars. I think it’s ugly.

One can only hope that I’m about to interrupt something so fun for him.

Not sure why they’re so surprised to see me. I fucking live here too.

Do they expect me to go into hiding because of the video? If that’s the case, then they don’t know who I am. But they’re about to find out.

You gotta look your best when you decide to show your crazy. Otherwise, you’re just another stupid bitch like all the rest. Any woman can allow a man to make her go insane. The point is to stand out—be remembered and feared for your toxicity—but look fuckable while you’re doing it.

I unscrew the lid, reach in, and shake the can, letting the gas sprinkle everywhere. There isn’t a right or wrong way to do it. It’s not like I googled it or anything. I’m just going by what feels natural. Then I think what the hell and toss the entire thing into the car. I remove the lighter from inside my shirt, ignite it, and throw it in before taking a few steps back.

“Oh, she saw it all right. She’s setting your car on fire as we speak.” “What?” I shove Amy away, and she falls off the side of the bed and lands on the floor with a thud. “Fuck!”

“Damn. The bitch actually did it. I thought they were joking.”

I don’t give two shits about the car. No, I care that the pretty little princess is standing next to it, arms crossed over her chest, staring up at me with a smile on her face. She’s such a bitch.

Raylee is the devil in a woman’s body. She’s vindictive, manipulative, and incredibly fucking sexy.

I stay anchored to the porch. If I make one move, I’ll fucking kill her, and there are too many witnesses.

Even I wouldn’t be able to buy my way out of a murder charge with all these motherfuckers recording right now.

I hate that my cock is hard, and it has nothing to do with the naked woman in my bedroom.

She gives me a fuck-you smile with her signature red lips and bats her pretty eyes at me.

“Dude, we should set the entire house on fire. If she’s gotten into your stash, that means she’s been in your room. No telling what she’s planted in there.”

I expected retaliation. But this? This is more than she bargained for.

I’m going to make her mine. She’ll spend the rest of her life being my slut.