Page 31 of Make You Beg

It’s a sip, but I swear her eyes squint, and her whole posture has loosened up.

No way she’s drunk already.

“Your type?”

“I…”

“Don’t be shy.”

“I like tall guys, I guess. Which isn’t hard considering I’m practically a garden gnome.”

I cackle.

She is not. She might be scraping five feet two, but she’s the perfect size for me.

I take a sip of the wine, pass it back to her, and she takes it.

“What else?”

“I care about their heart.”

“Bullshit.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not bullshit.”

“Come on, Madelyn. Tell me what you really care about. No one cares about a person’s heart.”

Not in my world. Hearts are good for nothing. The less you act with your heart and the more you act with your head, the better it’ll be for you.

“For example, guys. We care about whether a girl will willingly go down on her knees and suck our dicks. If she’ll let us spill in her mouth⁠—”

She squirms.

And my dick twitches.

Shit. I like this.

I like making her uncomfortable. But I stop. I know my limits.

“I care about heart,” she insists.

“So you’re telling me you don’t care about whether a guy can give you what you want at all? About whether he can satisfy your physical needs?”

“I-I look for a deeper connection than the physical.”

I don’t believe that for a second. We’re young, and it’s the perfect time to discover what we like and how we like it served. Explore our sexuality, our wants, and needs.

But I decide I’ve pushed her enough for now. I’ve got a suspicion about why she’s being this way, and I’ll find out eventually.

“If you say so.”

I let the silence simmer between us. Until I can talk again, shower her with more of my questions, see how badly I can traumatize her. Scare her with my thoughts.

My dick’s still pulsating with every moment that passes. A rush of adrenaline pumps through my veins.

“It’s beautiful out here.” I catch her looking up at the sky. “Why do you focus on the ground, when you have this big, wide sky?”

Wow. She’s as bad as I am at this. Making conversation.