15. Hayley
15
HAYLEY
“Again,” I whimper, and he obeys.
It does hurt. I can’t pretend there isn’t an edge of pain, but I really, really love it.
The stab of each of the metal balls as he pushes into me over and over is like a hair tug or nails on my arm. It heightens the throb of my clit, and makes me tingle all over.
I’m helpless to do anything but moan and whimper and take every inch of him as he slides in and out of me. But I’m kissing him with more enthusiasm than skill, slopping and loving, teeth and tongue, my fingers in the soft black curls on his head.
My back is flat on the table, and his chest is on mine, my breasts and our shirts squished between us, but his weight is only partly on me. I want him to crush me, skin to skin. Own my body as he does my heart and soul.
He smashed everything and is standing in the ruins fucking me like I’m the only thing that matters. It’s heady. This feeling of being his world is a high I didn’t realise I craved.
The feel of his clothing against my bare thighs is unbearably erotic, emphasising his need for me.
I try to get him closer, but his fingers on my clit are distracting, and I know he’s restraining himself.
Meaning to pull him into me harder, I raise my knees, and he slides deeper, the tip of his cock slamming into my cervix and knocking the breath from my chest, as though he’s so big he’s all the way up to my lungs. His eyelids fall closed for a second, and he stills, mouth open.
But despite my heels finding his buttocks to try to make him go faster, he’s stronger than me, and keeps up a relentless, patient pace that isn’t the wildness I need to push me over the edge.
“Harder,” I demand. “Take me like you mean it, Maxim. I love you. Take me like you will when I’m your wife .”
He makes a hoarse, pained noise from the back of his throat, and smashes his lips to mine in a punishing kiss that is feral and unhinged.
Yes. Yes.
He pulls his mouth from mine and stares at me. “I will do whatever you want, Hayley. Even lose control of myself.”
My protest when he grabs my leg and peels it away from him, withdrawing with a wet pop is dismay and disappointment, until he levels that dangerous look at me.
“Don’t move,” he orders harshly, and strides over to the living area—somehow his trousers are so perfectly fitted that they don’t fall down, as though gravity obeys him—and grabs a couple of cushions.
Then before I understand what’s happening, he’s lifted and turned me so I’m on the cushions, my legs dangling and my bottom in the air. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you right now.”
My breasts are plastered to the shiny wood of the table, the cotton of his shirt giving the perfect amount of friction to my nipples, and with my feet not on the floor I feel deliciously helpless.
“Your arse is so pretty like this,” he murmurs, running his big, rough hand over one cheek then the other. “And your cunt…”
He groans as his fingers dip into my folds. I crane my neck to see him.
And ohhhh.
He’s sucking two fingers, his tongue lapping obscenely and his grey eyes are intent on my face. “This is the only time you’ll bleed for me, and I intend to enjoy it.”
A crazy spark of arousal flames in my tummy.
“Now.” He takes his hand to my pussy again and slides his fingers in as easily as though I were made for him.
I think I might have been.
“Ready for me to fuck and breed you?” The expression on his face is dark and commanding. It’s not a question.
“Yes.” The answer will always be yes. His brutal cock sticking up out of his refined clothing, and the tattoos on his hands, are an exquisite contradiction. He’s experienced and kind, but he’s also kinky and harsh.
And when he takes his cock in his hand and pulls my pussy open with a palm over the cheek of my bottom, I whine with the sheer need to be filled by him again.
The blunt tip of him rests for a second where I’m soaking wet and soft, then he pushes into me.
The pinch of pain comes again, but it’s different this time. Shorter. And instead of hurting, his piercings rub against a sensitive ridge on my inner walls, and my gasp is only pleasure.
And oh, that’s… Yes. It hits a spot inside me that was made for him.
I scrabble at the table, trying to grip something, anything as he thrusts again. Not to escape, but to tether myself to reality as my eyes roll back in my head and a high-pitched cry is torn from my throat.
“I know,” Maxim comforts me. “You’re gripping me so tight, malishka. You’re amazing.”
His hips flex, withdrawing a short distance then thrusting back harder. As he pushes right to the hilt, so his balls slap against my clit, it’s a shower of white sparks of pleasure for me, and given how fierce he looks when he opens his eyes again, and digs his fingers into my bottom, I think it is for him too.
It doesn’t hurt now. There’s just the pleasure of his body in mine, and the slick slide of us together lubricated excessively by how much I want him… And a spot of my virgin blood too.
The sounds are filthy, and Maxim’s eyes have gone dark as he fucks me.
“I want you so much,” he says. “Since we met, I’ve been craving having you like this. Making you mine. Marking you.”
His thrusts have found a steady tempo that’s spiralling me up towards orgasm again, and the sound of his voice serves to drag me up to that peak.
“I’ve wanted to own you, Hayley. You’ve been my secret obsession. My girl. Mine, even though you didn’t know it. Feel how much I need you? How hard you make me?”
I nod and writhe, trying to get more of him.
He grunts with pleasure. “That’s it, such a good girl taking my massive, pierced cock.”
“Will you tattoo me?” I ask, the question by-passing my brain totally, zipping straight from somewhere in my torso—I wouldn’t like to say whether it’s my heart or my pussy, but possibly both—to my mouth.
“You’ll wear my ring when we marry, have a rounded belly when you have my child, have my come in you every day. And, yes, if you want a tattoo…” He reaches forwards and wraps his hand around my neck. “How about something here? Complete with my fingerprints, so everyone knows from your collar who your owner is, my perfect, beautiful good girl?”
“Yes,” I gasp as his hand gently squeezes.
Just enough to reduce my air supply for a few seconds and make me dizzy with the pleasure that’s rising like a tide.
It’s his control and ownership that makes the breath I drag in when he releases my neck so potent. My head swims.
I’m buzzing all over as the air rushes to my brain, like that moment of bliss before you faint.
And all the time, Maxim is there. His cock huge and filling me.
“You’re mine. I’m going to keep coming in this pussy until you’re pregnant with my child, and then I’ll fuck your pretty little cunt even more because I know you’ll be gorgeous with a bump. I will have my name tattooed on your skin where we both can see it.”
It’s trust. My life is in his hands as surely as my pleasure is in his control.
“I want my come leaking from your every hole, Hayley. I’m going to cover you with it. But first…”
He glides his hand from my neck to gather up my hair in his fist and tug it.
I gasp as the sensation in my scalp jerks my body onto yet another, higher plane of bliss.
Then I feel him shift, his hand around my thigh, urging my legs further apart, and his fingers find my clit.
“First you’re going to come for me like a good girl. I want you to clench and spasm and milk all the seed out of me.”
He only has to touch my clit. Maybe circle it, or… I don’t even know.
“You’re mine. Come for me.”
I explode. The pleasure wracks through my body like white fire, sweeping all in its way.
“Good girl,” he grits out, and I hear his voice both as though it’s within my head, and miles away.
He slams into my spasming pussy once more, lodges himself deep in my body and roars as his cock swells and hot seed jets into me.
“Hayley.” My name is on his lips as he jerks and pulses.
The feel of his orgasm prolongs mine. I lose all control of my limbs, and it’s a good thing I’m laid on the table because otherwise I’d fall over. I’m tingling everywhere, little aftershocks of my orgasm taking me unawares.
Maxim is just as wrecked. He’s partially collapsed, his forearms on either side of my torso, his cock still buried as deep inside me as he could possibly be. His chest is plastered to my back, and every slowing breath brings him closer.
“That was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Malishka. I’ll never get over it,” he whispers against my neck, making the fine hairs there tickle, and sending warmth down my spine.
“For me too,” I agree. “When can we do it again?”
He gives a gentle huffing laugh, and nips at my skin with his teeth, and I shriek happily, wriggling back into him.
“Sooner than I imagined would be possible, I think. You bring out the beast in me.”
His weight lifts from me, and I murmur a complaint.
“Mmm, but I want you in my bed and curled into my arms when you fall into a well-fucked sleep. Stay relaxed for me.”
His still-hard cock shifts and I make a louder grumble as he slowly slides out of me, interspersed with catches of my breath because his piercings drag in a way that feels heavenly.
Cool air meets my pussy and there’s a gush of warm liquid.
“Oh, can’t have that,” Maxim says teasingly. Then his fingers are at my gaped entrance, pushing his seed back into my body.
I tense between my legs to try to keep it there, and he purrs his approval. “That’s it. You need it, don’t you?” He adds soft words in Russian that I just know are absolutely filthy. When I can fully focus my eyes past the thrum of pleasure that’s still in control of all my limbs and drugging my mind, I see Maxim.
He brings his fingers to my lips, and I eagerly open my mouth, allowing him to cram them in, forcing needy sounds from my throat. I have an unhinged craving to have him everywhere.
I have these enormous feelings in my chest, radiating out of me. But at the same time, I’m exhausted, sucking his fingers clean.
“My perfect girl.” He withdraws his fingers and lifts me effortlessly, holding me bridal style. Something crunches.
“I can walk!” But I rub my cheek against the smooth cotton of his second-best shirt. That makes me smile.
He tsks. “Not in bare feet you can’t. Not when someone incited violence in me and the table got cleared with undue haste.”
I giggle.
In his bedroom, he drags the covers away and lays me on the bed sheets. I wriggle into them like a cat.
At the back of my mind, there’s a worry about my sister. But it’s late, and when a minute later Maxim joins me in bed, his naked thigh brushing mine, then slipping dominantly in between, the concern slips away. I snuggle backwards and he pulls me flush with his chest, wrapping a possessive arm around my waist.
I’m so content. I’ve never been so happy, but there’s an edge of guilt.
“What about Payton?” I whisper.
“Don’t worry about your sisters. You don’t have to carry that burden anymore. That’s my responsibility now, and I will do everything to find both of them.” His words are deep and confident, a command to stop being the responsible one, and let him take charge.
And just like that, the weight is off my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I say in a little voice that wobbles with the potential for tears of relief.
“Oh malishka.” He kisses my hair, and runs his palm over my shoulder until it comes to rest over my neck. “It’s the privilege of my life to care for you.”
My breathing calms. I’m warm. I’m secure. He’s my keeper.