Chapter 48 #2
Her mouth comes down on mine again, but she lowers her fingers to her clit, rubbing furiously until I feel her pussy muscles erupt.
So burning and sensitive, and wet, drowning in her fluids.
As I grope her and fuck her harder, it doesn’t take long before she gasps, her eyes rolling back as she moans deeply.
I bear her the whole time, one hand anchored beneath her ass and the other gripping the back of her neck to keep her mouth sealed to mine.
All it takes is one grinding thrust, and I send her careening again, taking pride in bringing her pleasure. She rides out her rapture, squeezing her thighs around me.
“Sweet bloody Jesus!” she pants against my lips.
“Horosho devochka,” I praise her. “You come all over my big dick, my fat cock. So fucking sexy wrapped around my length.”
She attacks again. Hands flying, nails digging, body shaking. My hellcat trying to claw at me, to punish me for how good I’m making it for her.
Fucking love the sting of her claws on my ass, raking into the skin, marking me for her own.
She’s my filthy but regal addiction, and I will never grow tired of finding new ways to torment her, to ruin her, and then to send her soaring unlike anything she’s ever fathomed.
Paroxysms seize her body.
I dump her on the nearest pew and rut into her, hard and unyielding, until she snaps again, until I explode with her.
I fuck her right on the rotting bodies of our torturers.
I fuck her against the broken stained glass. It cuts us both.
I even light a thurible with sacred incense and brush it along her beautiful skin in little, burning flares of stimulation, ending with the slightest of touches along her clit, capturing it with a searing kiss.
By sunset, we’ve finally made it to the organ where I fuck her to a discordant, chaotic symphony, one of our own making.
“Enough!” Valentina screeches, slapping at my face as she’s finishing another orgasm. “For fuck’s sake, Roman! Enough!”
Laughing, I finally lower her to the floor—just to see what happens.
I laugh more when she stumbles. Unable to hold herself upright, she falls to her knees and crawls toward the locked doors.
“Good heavens, are you trying to escape me, Moya Samotsvet?” I mock her, taking the greatest pride in how she can’t even stand.
I tilt my head, admiring how much I’ve beaten up that pussy, how red-hot it is, every scrap of flesh smoldering from my cock.
Her body is a battleground, bearing all the signs of a violent fallout, from the welts all over her skin to the blood dried in her hair.
My cock has released a dozen times in one day, but all it takes is the sight of her flipping me off as she crawls to the exit. She claws haplessly at the doors, desperate to get out, but I’ll change her mind soon enough.
“No!” she squeals and moans as I scoop her up. Nothing but kicking me and thrashing with a second wind. Or maybe a fifth.
All I know is I love how her claws rake down the sides of my face, splintering skin and shedding blood.
“Goddamn you, Roman!” she curses and crushes her mouth on mine, biting my lower lip as I take her a final time. I fuck her against those very doors of the chapel, rocking the dark wood.
“Fuck you, fucking hate you, love you, oh, God, don’t stop!” She grips my neck and rides out her orgasm.
Once she’s screaming my praises again, I snap, firing rabid strikes into her and shooting the last of my cum inside her.
She’s paradise, my Eden in hell. Electrifying.
Lightning strikes for us both. We spiral together again.
I rock her through it. She kisses me, her tongue trailing lower to lick the skin she split with her claws.
She doesn’t get to finish, her head dropping onto my shoulder.
Our breaths heaving and cleaving, heartbeats thundering in our chests.
We’re too winded, too exhausted.
We linger here in the fallout, in the ashes. And the second I unlock the door and push it open, we emerge into a dark entryway.
And I shake my head with a laugh because everyone is there.
But Valentina covers my privates, as I cover her.
Well, mostly. Little else is left to the imagination, but it’s dim enough.
And nothing they haven’t seen, considering the arena.
If they must see us in such a state, I’d rather it be on our terms.
“Sorry about the mess,” I chuckle darkly to Mikhail.
He waves a hand. “It needed an upgrade anyway.”
One snap of his fingers, and I thread my brows low in suspicion until I notice several of my staff members enter the chapel with containers of gasoline. Valentina gasps, but I simply meet Mikhail’s eyes in a moment of pure clarity.
Purge the old. Burn it to the ground. Make them ash. Then scatter the bones and teeth to the sea.
A controlled fire that will not touch the rest of the manor, but it will reduce the chapel to a scorched skeleton.
Once the staff have left the chapel, Mikhail lights a match. I nod for him to hand it to Valentina.
“Care to do the honors, my Lady?”
Her smile is brighter than the heavens. She takes the match and tosses it inside. The chapel goes up in flames, the inferno reflecting in her eyes like fiery, blinding amethysts.
“What now?” she murmurs close to my ear, her lips against my neck.
“Now? We rebuild.”
She sweeps her gaze upon those closest to us who have assembled. Our fateful witnesses to our wedding and the carnage within.
After glancing at me with a silly, sweet grin, she laughs like a sparkle of stars and says, “Who wants cake?”