Summary: Perhaps it was you she was after all along and not Sam.
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She presses down against your spine as she ruts into you harder, fucking into you with her strap on like she's trying to knock you up. Suddenly she fists her hand into your hair, snatching your head back roughly, not at all gentling herself for you - knowing that you can take it… That you enjoy it even.
“You're good at this… Good at being a fuck doll. I bet you get wetter at the fact this is wrong and bad, don't you?”
To drive her point home she lets go of your head, still slowly thrusting as she reaches over to retrieve her trusty knife. She slowly cuts open her arm, pressing the cut to your mouth encouraging your lips to seal around it, grinning as you drink darkness straight from the tap - getting off on corrupting you as she breaks you open on pink plastic like a proper demonically powered whore.
“Good slut.”
She pulls her arm away and keeps fucking you, blood smeared on your lips and your slick dripping down your thighs, hand making sharp contact with your ass till you yelp… No doubt you'll be having trouble sitting down later, something you really don't want to have to explain to the guys. She goes till you cum from the mix of pleasure and pain, grabbing your face to spit into your mouth, sealing the deal on fucking owning you.
