Page 208 of Sincerely, Butterfly

With a heavy huff, I spin around and storm off away from him.

“What the fuck are you doing just lying there?” I hear Jasper demand from behind me, making my eyes widen. I turn around and see Wesley and Jasper standing over Sylas.

“Just had fun with our little butterfly,” Sylas answers, smugly. “Need a moment. I gave myself a good workout.”

“You didn’t let her cum, did you?”

“No,” he snorts. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping to your rules.”

Rules!So it’s Jasper's fault I haven’t gotten my orgasm. Oh, that's just mean. What did I ever do to him for him to be so damn cruel?Asshole.

“Where is she?” Wesley asks.

“She went that way.” Sylas waves his hand in my direction.

Oh, shit.They both look my way, but I don’t waste time. I take off running again, trying to work my hands free.

With my luck, I’d trip, and because my hands are bound, I won’t be able to catch myself and end up with a broken face.

Thankfully, Sylas didn’t bind them too tightly. After a lot of wiggling, I manage to get my hands free, even though my wrists burn like a bitch.

Letting the belt drop, I bring my hand to my mouth and pull out the panties, tossing them to the ground.

I’m kind of exhausted if I’m honest. As much fun as this has been, my body hurts. So does my head. I’m cold, dirty, and I still really want that orgasm.

But because I don’t want to just roll over and take it, I decide to hide this time.

The first mausoleum I find, I rush over and open the door.

Slipping inside, I lean against the wall. I close my eyes, giving myself a moment to catch my breath and think of what my next move should be.

I’m done running, but I can’t just walk out there and be like‘heeeey, I’m free for the taking, someone fuck me before I do it myself’.

Or… can I?

A smile curves my lips as an idea pops inside my head.

Oh, this could work, and it would piss them off at the same time.

I feel giddy as I open the door again and peek around, seeing if they’re around.

When I see that the coast is clear, I start to search for a perfect spot to set up my plan.

Most of the gravestones are old and run down, not big enough or strong enough for me to sit on.

But as I make it a few rows down, I notice a different kind of gravestone. It looks like a chair of sorts. Big enough for anyone to sit on.

I’ve seen some like this before, but most of them have been more of a bench kind of thing.

Either way, it’s perfect. “Thanks…” I lean in and read the name. “Paul Edmond. Don’t mind if I do.” I sit down, getting comfortable. “You’re doing me a solid, Paul.”

Grabbing the night gown, I take it off. There’s no point in keeping it on, since it’s dirty and ripped to pieces at this point. Tossing it to the side, I lean back against the cold stone, closing my eyes and widening my legs.

“Fuck,” I whimper, my fingertips brushing against my clit. It’s swollen and oh-so sensitive.

I slide my fingers into the mess at my center and bring it back up to my clit. I work myself over, my toes curling into the ground as I feel the orgasm from before start to build back up.

My plan was to wait until they found me and show them that I’ll do the job myself if they can’t, but as I thrust my fingers in and out of me, rubbing my clit, I don’t think I’m going to beable to wait.