Chapter 27
I said I’d give him everything. And I will.
VALENTINA
Tears fall down my cheeks as Roman holds me in his gaze. His revelation felt like a whispered prayer.
You are not a trembling creature. You are my right.
I practiced the Russian phrase over and over while he was gone, needing to know his true thoughts and beliefs.
Now, I do.
He wants everything. I’ll give him everything tonight.
His confession meant more than relief. It was understanding. It was truth. And I need truth now more than ever.
Valentina Volkov.
Guilt shreds through me because I haven’t shared the other part of the conversation.
The trespasser called me a princess. If I were, would it make a difference?
Dark thoughts consume me at the glimmers, my father beating me, the murder of my mother.
Why would I want to hold onto the past of a princess locked and beaten in a cage after what Roman has revealed tonight?
The heart of a queen. The soul of an empress. His right. His soul.
I lock away everything else that happened tonight. Even without the confession, I’d still want him, need him more than ever. I can still feel the son of a bitch’s hands on me, his inferior dick in my mouth and throat.
I need Roman’s hands, his mouth, his cock…everywhere.
So, I slowly, tenderly rub my lips against his and whisper, “Fuck me, Roman Makarova. Fuck your wife.”
He tilts his head and flashes a predatory grin. “My fucking pleasure.”
My pussy practically screams with heat.
Taking my ass with one hand, he lifts me, a low rumbling in his chest when I wrap my legs around his waist. Oh, God, he taunts me, rubbing four fingers along my slick folds. The other locks in my hair, gripping the back of my neck.
“Does this soaking, sloppy cunt need my cock, Moya Koroleva?”
“Roman, goddamn you!” I cry out, wriggling and squirming, bucking my hips.
Ugh, he rubs me harder, fiercer, punishing.
“How many times did you get yourself off while I was gone?” he demands, and I gulp, blushing.
Does he know exactly how many times? Does he know about the time in the shower?
Or the bath? He can’t possibly have cameras in the bathtub to see my hand beneath all the bubbles, right?
The pressure tightens in me. He’s working my clit into a swollen frenzy. Maybe if I brat, he’ll apply more pressure. Just a little more…
“Ungh, I didn’t!”
“Lies, filthy girl. Filthy lies.” He slaps my cunt, and I lurch, grabbing onto his shoulders. “That earns you a triple punishment on top of the number of times you came.”
“Once,” I hiss. The others were in the shower and bath. Another crack of his palm, and I shriek, “Okay, okay! Three times.” Slap, slap. “Four! Four!” I confess and try to grab his hand, try to press it to my pussy. One daggered glare from those jewel green eyes vows the worst punishment if I try.
So, I let go with a sigh.
“Good girl,” he commends me. “Such a dirty girl. Now, you’re going to get on your knees, spread your legs as wide as you can, and present that pretty pussy to me for your spankings.”
“Ugh, Roman!”
He swings his hand again, this time leaving a red print on the swell of my breast. I yelp, but I hurry, scrambling out of his lap and getting on my knees, elbows on the moss, ass in the air.
“Prekrasno,” he says. “Very lovely, moya zhena. But somehow, my hand does not seem quite enough for your discipline tonight. Nor what you deserve.”
“Wh-what does that mean?” I shiver, glancing back.
“It means I will bring you low. Give you the pain I know you are strong enough to withstand. And take you to the ultimate heights so you never forget who owns this beautiful body. One moment, Valya,” he says, rubbing my bottom.
When he shifts away, I flip my hair over my shoulder. It flicks my skin with droplets as I find him on the other side of me, collecting something from his perfectly-folded clothes. “What are you doing?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, can’t have you spoiling the surprise,” he says, returning to me and using his tie to blindfold me. I groan a little but shut up as soon as he smacks my ass. He hums in low approval from how I arch my back, thrusting it out more.
I feel his body heat disappear as he walks away and goes to the stock room. The chilled air assaults my wet skin, pulling up goosebumps everywhere. But my pussy is still hot. Whatever he’s going to do, it’s going to stoke the heat to volcanic levels, I’m sure.
I listen for him, smelling him before I sense him.
“My creativity knows no bounds when it comes to you, Valentina,” he tells me, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Yes, I will reward you for your courage tonight, your fearlessness. But you went to that graveyard like a lamb to the slaughter. You must not endanger yourself by walking at night with no escort.”
I almost call him out, but he’s right. I could have taken more precautions. At least I know now Roman’s sanctuary here is not faultless and impenetrable.
He kneels before me. My breaths quicken as I feel his eyes on me. I lift my chin ever so slightly, turning toward him.
“You’re there,” I whisper. “Here.”
“Arch your back more.”
I do. And something round and cold taps, then rubs my left nipple.
I hiss and swallow a sob. He rubs my other nipple with the same object.
It’s not an ice cube. It’s too round. Ovular.
My hands twitch. I want to cover my tits, protect my nipples, but I dig my nails in, raking them into the soil.
A whimper escapes my throat as he trains the frigid object on each nipple.
They harden to erect points. I sigh in relief when he cups my aching breasts, kneading them, and slapping them gently before the ice returns.
“Mmm…” I moan.
I hear the whistle right before the sharp thwack comes.
I shriek. He brings the icy oval down harder, stronger, sharper, striking my nipples until I’m writhing from the pain.
My breaths heave and cleave. I can feel the buds turning red, fat, sore.
Hypersensitive. He captures them. I gasp as he rolls each one between his index finger and thumb, triggering my pussy to clench… and drip.
“Roman…” I plead.
“I did not give you permission to speak, moya zhena,” he says harshly, twisting the reddened buds, prompting me to yelp. “And you will call me Master. Your head. My soul.”
He circles the pads of his thumb along the nipples, and I soften for him, nodding. “Yes, Master.”
“Da, good girl.”
I said I’d give him everything. And I will.
He gets behind me now, approving of how spread I am. He touches the wetness glistening on my thighs and pubic lips. “So responsive…”
Then, a cold slap right to my pussy.
“Master!” I gasp.
“Shh,” he hushes me and smacks my folds three more times. “Sixteen strikes to your lovely pussy.”
“God, it hurts!”
What the fuck is that? I swallow hard, holding back a moan. It’s a frozen vodka bottle, glass coated with frost. It’s smaller, narrower, but it still hurts like icy hell.
“It should. You must learn, Valentina. This is not merely a punishment.” He rubs the iced glass along my pubic lips, a precursor.
“It’s so you understand that your life is mine to guard.
Your body, mine to protect. Your pleasure, mine to grant.
You will feel it deep in your muscles tomorrow.
And you will remember: reckless bravery does not make you untouchable. ”
He unleashes on me. Feral and mindless. Because he’s remembering. Somehow, I know he’s remembering the sight of me plunging that dagger in again and again with blood spurting all over me, streaming down my naked tits and body.
He strikes my cunt over and over again. Until my folds are flared and swollen from the ice. Until I’m a weepy, needy, quivering mess. My whole body shakes. I’m barely staying on my knees. But I’ve soaked the glass with my fluids.
I hear the sound of him uncorking the vodka. Oh, God! He rubs the alcohol like salt in the wound.
“No, please, Master!” I nearly buckle, my elbows holding me up. “It’s burning. I can’t—”
“You can. And you will!”
He seals the cap back on. And then, the pressure comes. Fuck, he’s shoving the neck of the bottle right into my opening. I scream even as my inner muscles squeeze around the chilled glass. “Oh, bloody fucking fuck!”
“Yes, fuck,” he purrs darkly, tracing a finger along my folds. “Never saw a sight more gorgeous. Such pretty, inflamed labia. Your muscles, so strong as you hold the bottle. Hmm…I wonder how long you can hold it,” he muses.
I whimper, already predicting what’s about to happen.
“I’m going to remove my hand now, Valentina. And you are going to clench around that bottle. You will keep it there like the dirty girl you are while I spank your bottom and prepare you for my cock. Unlike you, naughty zhena, I didn’t jack off once during my absence.”
“Where were you?”
“New assignment. New contract. Nothing you need to know right now. All you need to know is how long you can hold the bottle, how long you can please me.”
Crack!
I sob as he brings a larger bottle down hard on my ass.
He smiles at the blooming red mark. Clenching harder than ever, I struggle to hold on.
He keeps striking, hitting every part of my bottom with the frozen glass until it’s red and sore.
I clench stronger, tighter. The bottle slipped a little, and it’s a miracle I’ve kept it here, especially with how soaked I am.
“God, you are a true gem,” he says, rubbing my ass.
He grinds his cock against my ass. It’s so hard and thick, and it has to be ten inches by now, proof of his arousal…and his control. His praise makes me feel proud. And knowing how he gets off on my submission, because he sees me as his equal.
I feel him spread my cheeks before he rubs the fluid onto my anal ring. “Nooooo!” I cry out from the sting.
“Yes.”
Ohmygodohmygod, he plunges the lip of the bottle right into my quivering sphincter. I can’t do it. I can’t hold on anymore.
The other bottle drops from my pussy.