Bond to Break (Stolen Obsessions #4)

19. Katya

CHAPTER 19

KATYA

My eyes and my sense of reality open wide up as the aftershocks of my orgasm ripple through my body. The cold metal inside my cunt is jarring, the danger and adrenaline prickle every inch of my skin, but for once, I feel so fucking alive. His hot knuckles nearly burn where they’re pressed against my flesh, his thumb at my clit.

“Do it,” I urge as the blissful chemicals I’ve never felt before pop in my vision. That was amazing.

My heart is in my chest as I realize how close I am to real release, not just the dripping orgasm he just brought me to, but the perfect way to go. An easy death. My first orgasm and then relief from the agony? I just have to deal with one gut shot and don’t even have to survive it.

If he kills me, I won’t wind up in hell, will I? I only begged for it. That’s not the same as suicide. That orgasm was certainly a sin, but I didn’t ask for that either. I haven’t had a choice in anything since he bought me, and there’s something so profoundly liberating about that. Not for my body but for my world-weary soul.

His face is a mix of emotions, and I can’t pretend to understand them all.

“You’re not fucking serious, Kotyonok.” He’s angry. That’s good. Crime bosses are more likely to kill you when they’re angry, right?

“Just do it. It would be so easy. Pull the trigger.”

Instead of a gunshot that I have no hope of surviving, a hard smack lands against my cheek.

“Ow.” But it’s more of a comment than an exclamation. Between the drugs and the orgasm, I’m not feeling much of anything.

“You want to die painfully now? I thought you wanted it easy?” Another smack. His hand is larger than my face, and while I know he isn’t hitting me with even close to his full strength, I feel my skin welt in the shape of his fingers. Now I feel the pain.

“This didn’t teach you anything?” He shoves the gun deeper into me, and this time, I moan from being overstuffed with cold metal, the stretch growing painful. I’ve already come for the first time, and everything is twitching and too stimulated. This is far too much.

“What was I supposed to learn from coming on your gun? That you’re fucking crazy, and I might occasionally enjoy it?” I definitely enjoyed it this time.

He pinches my lower lip between his fingers and squeezes hard. My tongue shoots out on instinct, unintentionally tasting myself on his fingers.

“Fuck,” he grunts under his breath as I do it once more. He peels my lip back until the flesh is pulling too hard and hurts.

“You were supposed to learn that your life is precious, you ungrateful little slut.”

He slaps the other side of my face, but my cheeks are burning worse from being called a slut than they are from the slaps. I’ve never been called a slut. I’ve always been a good girl. I’m a virgin, but given I came on a gun for the first time, I don’t think I can argue with the assessment. I’m a slut. Am I ungrateful? I appreciate everything he’s done for me, so I really don’t think so.

“What’s so precious about my life?” I challenge. “And why don’t you have any better ways to teach a lesson?”

Little gray hairs highlight his strong brow as he pushes them together. His full lips press into something close to a line, but they’re too full to be flat. Raw anger seeps from his pores, and those black eyes seem like pits, formerly destroying the opinion that they’re warm. He flashes me his teeth as he drops the gun, leaving it halfway hanging out of me, and grips my throat in both his giant hands.

“Tell me something you’re good for,” he demands with my throat in his hands.

I can’t shake my head. I can’t speak. The space in my throat is reserved for the narrow air stream he allows me, but he sees in my eyes that I don’t have anything anyway.

“You can’t think of a single thing you’re good for, Katya? Let me show you something.”

A moment later, his full weight is on top of me. His knees land on the mattress, and he slides them apart, forcing my thighs impossibly wide as he makes space for himself. I’m pinned in place by the heat of his body.

He pulls the gun the rest of the way out of me, and the wet sound of its removal burns my cheeks. He tosses it so carelessly to the side, and I realize the danger I was in was more than likely imagined. Fucking bastard is engineering shit to teach me lessons like he’s my father, but I’m not about to call him daddy.

He unbuttons his pants and slides the zipper down just like he did the night before, but this time, I’m desperate to see it again. His touch is everything warm when my life has been nothing but cold, and since I’ve never orgasmed before, this is distinctly part of my new life. Is there actually something I want out of this life?

My orgasm keeps the worst of my fear at bay as he pulls his cock out of his pants. The tip shines with what must be cum and pricks my stomach as he wraps a fist tightly around himself.

My first orgasm still coats my pussy and thighs. I’m worked wide open from coming on his gun. His head is far larger than it looks and hot. When he shoves it against my opening, I give much more easily to him than I expected. The stretch is absurd, stinging and pleasurable at once as he notches his head inside me.

“Fuck, Kotyonok. It’s like you were made to take me. Such a snug fit.”

He slips another tick deeper, but nowhere near as deep as the gun. His cock is so much thicker, and I’ll need a lot more effort to take it. His large fingers wrap around my ass, middle finger resting between my cheeks. That finger presses into my hole, pulling a shout. The other hand stays around his shaft, and he uses the leverage to work the thick length into me.

Oh God. It’s too much.

“It hurts,” I cry as he thrusts. A peek down reveals he’s only halfway inside me, heavy cock nearly bending in its effort to bury all the way. Something tells me he won’t stop until I take him to his balls, and he’s tearing my insides open, and fuck me, I want it.

“Life hurts, Katya. You’ll be begging me to fuck you this way soon. You’ll ache for it when I’m not inside you.”

I hate the way my body opens up for him, gets slicker as he moves, and encourages him without me ever saying a word. I hate that I saved this for the man I loved, and now Fyodor is having it for himself. Worse, I can’t help but develop feelings for him. I hate that he might be right about me begging him for more because as the pain fades, something entirely different fills me. It’s so good, I’ll have to have more.

“This isn’t fair,” I complain. I didn’t do everything right to wind up the horny slut in the end, coming for the first time on a gun and taking a mob boss’s cock right after. He slips another inch deeper, and everything changes. I go from overstimulated to building toward another orgasm. I want him to break me and force me to orgasm like he did before. I didn’t even know women could come like that.

“You’re young enough to be my daughter. I popped this cunt on my gun. I’m fucking you wide open with your blood as my lube. Does it sound like life is fair?”

God help me, I open wider for him and savor the change as the head of his cock notches somewhere the gun didn’t touch, lodging behind something deep in my pussy like there’s a spot in there just for him.

“You’re so tight you can’t even take all of me, Kotyonok. Look.”

My eyes shift down to the spot where his much larger body cleaves mine open. What he said is true for only another few seconds. I’m so turned on by the difference between our bodies that he slips another inch deeper.

He’s finally fully seated, exactly where he wants to be, but I think this may be more than I can take. He groans, the deep and soulful sound rumbling through his chest and making me even wetter.

My sense of self shatters, and I imagine what Pietro would think if he could see me now. Tears rim my lashes, and I’m not sure if it’s my own agony or the next orgasm.

Fyodor stares straight into my eyes as he fucks me. I’ve always thought of it as making love, but that’s not what’s happening here. This is raw and primal. He’s showing me I’m useful, that even in this state, my body pleases him. God help me, it works. For the moment, I want to stay here for him and his cock.

He reads my mind somehow. “If you think I’m going to kill pussy that feels this good, think again.”

“What are you going to do, then?” A desperate part of me relaxes as it accepts he isn’t killing me tonight. At least there’s something I can get out of this, maybe something I can trust.

“Use this body every chance I get. Bury myself in you like I just discovered sex for the first time.”

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck me.” It’s not a smart-mouthed taunt. He really fucked with my head the night before, and I want some confirmation that he’s not just inside me because I’m young, tight, and wet.

“I lied.”

The last bit of connection I was fighting with him fires off between us, and I know it’s not normal or healthy, but I think I’m in love with him. The old Katya never would have felt this way about such a sinister situation. What the hell is so comforting about his strength and control? Suddenly, I understand that she doesn’t exist anymore and that this new version of me has different needs. It’s amazing and freeing but fills me with more guilt than I’ve ever felt in my life.

Would Pietro and I have had this? Something deep inside tells me we were never meant to. My heart aches as he stuffs his nose into my neck and breathes deep. Every move I make with him feels like a funeral in honor of that girl.

“Why are you so addictive? I’m going to need to fuck you often.”

“Need to?” It’s like a balm on my aching heart. If he needs it, I can pretend I’m not responsible. If he’s willing to force it on me and take it from me, I can pretend that this isn’t a symphony I want to listen to again and again.

“Need to,” he agrees. One grunt leaves his throat, and his body shivers as he finds his release in me. Maybe he does need me. A long moan sounds as he continues to empty.

“You’re useful, Katya. Such a good girl for me, so wet and tight.” He assures me with his lips pressed to my ear. His balls slap against the space where my pussy and ass meet. “Such a good fuck,” he emphasizes as he uses me to fully drain himself.

“Is that what you like? Is that what you want from me?” I can handle this.

“I want everything from you.”

And I come for him again even though he’s only half hard now, this time all over a cock so big I was sure I couldn’t take it. The wet lines of my orgasm run down my own ass and stain the sheets beneath me.

His hot cum fills me up, leaking past the rim of my pussy and following my own cum down my ass and onto the tip of his fingers. It’s then I realize he’s not wearing a condom. Sharp fear fills me, and I want to tell him he can’t fuck me bare, he can’t get me pregnant. The truth, though? He can, and even if I did complain, what would I say? He owns me. He can come where he pleases.

There’s a deep pinch as he pulls himself out of me, and a wet squelch as his cum slides fully onto the bed. He stands up, staring at the spot where I’m leaking a mix of us onto the sheet. He heads into the bathroom, but returns a moment later with a towel and makes quick work of cleaning both of us.

Once he’s soft and dry, he stuffs himself back into his slacks and does up his zipper, finishing with that fucking button I’m so obsessed with. He places a soft kiss on my temple, intimate but not personal. I want more so bad I nearly ask for it, beg for it the way I begged for him to kill me.

“You did so good for me.” His praise glows in every part of me, makes me feel like if I only got more of his attention then everything in my life would be okay.

“I’m glad you liked it. Whores at least have a purpose.”

“Whores get paid, Kotyonok.” That hurts, but it doesn’t ruin the moment.

The drugs and the weight of the orgasm take me straight back to sleep.