Chapter 15 Weight of Blood #6
Viktor rocked his hips, grinding into my mouth, the friction wild, filthy, a reward and a punishment. His hands tangled in my hair, guiding me, pulling me closer, forcing me to take more. “Open up,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Let me feed you.”
His fingers pressed between my lips, two at first, then three, slick with spit, fucking my mouth as his cock pressed to my cheek, rubbing against the flushed heat.
I sucked greedily, tongue working over his knuckles, swallowing him down, loving the taste, the control, the way he owned every breath I took.
“Such a good boy for me,” Viktor praised, voice low and ruined. “So fucking desperate to please, so hungry for cock.” His words made me whimper, cock leaking against my stomach, hips rocking up in search of friction.
He spat into my mouth again, letting it dribble down my tongue, mixing with the taste of sweat and skin, then fed me his fingers, making me suck, making me show just how much I wanted to be used. My hands squeezed his ass, pulling him down, begging for more, for everything.
His cock dragged across my face, marking me, claiming me, the scent of him dizzying. My lips trailed down to his balls, mouthing them through the briefs, sucking gently, tongue tracing every line, every curve, every hidden spot.
Viktor groaned, a sound low and dangerous, hips jerking forward, thighs tightening around my chest. “That’s it,” he praised, voice thick with need. “Make it filthy. Show me how much you want it.”
My tongue lapped at the head, mouthing it through the fabric, sucking until I felt him twitch, until I tasted his precome, salty and wild, seeping through, marking me as his.
I mouthed down the shaft, licking a stripe up the length, pressing my tongue to the damp fabric, sucking hard, loving the way he gasped, the way his fingers tightened in my hair.
A slow, wicked grin curled Viktor’s lips as he shifted above me, his weight pressing down, grounding me.
His hands hooked in the waistband of his briefs, dragging them down inch by inch, never breaking eye contact, making sure I watched every second.
The fabric stretched, then slipped past his thighs, baring him, the heavy length of his cock springing free, flushed dark, slick with precome, thicker and longer than I’d dared to hope.
My mouth watered at the sight, a raw, physical ache pulsing through me.
His hand wrapped around the base, stroking himself, thumb smearing slick over the head. “Want to see you drool for it,” Viktor commanded, voice low and smug. “Want you to watch while I show you what you’re begging for.”
A slap echoed in the room as he brought his palm down on his own cock, the sound sharp and obscene.
Another slap, the head bouncing against his stomach, a bead of precome dripping down, tempting me closer.
My mouth hung open, drool pooling at the corner of my lips, chest heaving with want.
I couldn’t look away, couldn’t even think, just watched as he slapped himself again, thick cock swinging, the heavy weight of it making my own twitch in answer.
“See how hard you get me?” Viktor taunted, voice dark with pride.
“All this, just for you. No one else ever gets this. No one else makes me lose control.” He stroked himself with slow, ruthless precision, letting me see every vein, every drop of slick, every pulse beneath the skin.
“You want to taste it, don’t you? Want to choke on it, make a mess for me, let everyone know you’re mine. ”
A broken moan tore from my throat, hands gripping his hips, desperate to be allowed closer. My tongue flicked out, greedy, needy, begging for permission. “Please,” I whispered, voice hoarse and desperate. “Need it. Need you to fuck my mouth, need to taste you, want you to ruin me.”
Viktor smirked, satisfied, his thumb dragging another bead of precome to the tip. “Open wide,” he ordered, positioning himself above my lips, cock thick and heavy, the head glistening. “Tongue out. Show me how hungry you are.”
I obeyed, tongue lolling, drool spilling over my chin, eyes never leaving the length of him.
Viktor tapped the head against my lips, smearing precome over my tongue, slapping it gently, watching the string of spit stretch between us.
Another slap, firmer, making me flinch in anticipation, then moan, begging for more.
“Fuck, you’re filthy,” he growled, pride and lust warring in his voice. “Could watch you like this all night. So fucking pretty, so fucking desperate.”
He let the head rest on my tongue, heavy, hot, the taste overwhelming—salt, musk, the essence of him. My lips closed around the crown, sucking gently, then harder, hollowing my cheeks as I tried to take more, loving the way his breath hitched, the way his thighs tensed around my shoulders.
“Deeper,” Viktor demanded, fingers threading through my hair, guiding me down inch by inch, feeding me his cock, making me take it, making me choke and moan around the girth.
My throat stretched to accommodate him, eyes watering, spit slicking my lips, dripping down my chin, but I never pulled away, never even wanted to.
“That’s it,” Viktor praised, voice ragged, hips rolling forward as he fucked into my mouth, slow and controlled, letting me feel the full length, the full weight of him. “Take it. Take it all. I want you ruined, I want you messy, I want you to remember this every time you touch yourself.”
My hands squeezed his thighs, nails digging in, desperate to anchor myself as he fed me more, pushing past resistance, filling my mouth and throat with his cock, making me gag and moan and beg for air.
He pulled out just enough to let me breathe, then thrust back in, holding me there, letting me drool and gasp, spit running down to stain my chest.
My own cock throbbed, leaking against my stomach, every nerve alight with want. My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, seeing the wild hunger, the pride, the sheer possession in his stare.
“Swallow it,” Viktor ordered, rocking his hips, thrusting deeper, letting me feel every vein, every twitch, every promise. “Don’t you dare waste a drop. I want you addicted to it. I want you thinking about this every night, every morning, every time you close your eyes.”
I swallowed around him, tongue swirling, sucking as he thrust, taking him as deep as I could, loving the way his voice broke, the way his body trembled, the way he barely held himself together.
His palm slapped his cock again, wet, filthy sounds filling the air as he pulled out, smearing spit and precome across my face, then fed it back into my mouth, making me clean him, making me worship every inch.
“You’re so good for me,” Viktor whispered, voice raw with feeling, hand stroking my cheek, thumb tracing my lips. “So fucking perfect. My prince. My whore. My everything.”
His cock pressed back to my lips, heavier, thicker, the head nudging my mouth open again. I sucked him in, deeper this time, letting him use me, letting him own me, loving every second, every sound, every filthy command.
Viktor fucked my mouth slow, deliberate, hips rolling, hands gentle in my hair, voice a constant stream of praise and filth and love. “Take it. Take it all. You can do it. You were made for this. Made for me.”
I choked and swallowed, eyes streaming, spit and precome mixing on my tongue, the taste of him filling my senses, the need building higher, the pleasure unbearable.
Viktor’s cock slid free with a wet pop, spit and precome dripping down my chin, lips swollen, throat aching with loss.
My lungs pulled in air sharp and greedy, but before I could beg for more, strong hands gripped my hips, pulling me up, rolling my ruined body over the sheets.
My arms landed shaky beneath me, knees spread wide, back arched, my ass high and desperate for touch.
The cool air brushed my skin, every inch exposed, trembling, hungry for his eyes.
A palm pressed between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest lower, arching me deeper, cock heavy and leaking onto the sheets below.
Viktor knelt behind me, eyes burning into my skin.
The tension in the room spiked, thick as blood, as his gaze roved over my ass, spreading me wider, fingers digging bruises into my hips.
My breath stuttered, a whimper torn from my throat as he paused, just looking, just taking in the mess he’d made of me.
“Fucking perfect,” Viktor growled, reverence and hunger tangled in every word. “Could look at you like this forever. Pink and open and begging to be filled. Do you know what you do to me?”
My answer broke on a gasp as his thumbs spread my cheeks, exposing everything, making me feel helpless, owned, utterly his.
The tip of his nose skimmed the curve of my ass, breath ghosting over my hole, warm and hungry.
His voice vibrated low, filthy and awestruck.
“This is mine. Every inch. Made to be ruined by me.”
A hot, wet tongue dragged up the seam, licking a slow, deliberate stripe, making my hips jerk, cock throbbing in the air.
His spit painted me, tongue circling, teasing, not giving me what I needed, just making me shake.
My fingers dug into the sheets, desperate, shameless, pushing my ass back for more.
“Beg for it,” Viktor whispered, teeth grazing the rim, tongue flicking. “Tell me what you want.”
My head dropped, words muffled by the mattress. “Eat me out,” I gasped, shame gone. “Want your mouth on my ass. Want you to get me ready. Want you to ruin me.”
Approval rumbled in his chest. Spit slicked my hole as his tongue pressed in, wet and hot, swirling, fucking me with slow, filthy strokes.
The sensation sent white-hot pleasure spearing through my core, every nerve set on fire.
He groaned into me, tongue working deeper, licking, tasting, worshipping, turning me inside out.