Chapter 7 #2
He steps flush against me, pressing into my ass from behind, and leans in.
The heat of his broad, solid chest warms my shoulder blades, and his hard, hot cock presses into my ass, declaring just how aroused he is.
With one hand, he grips the taut steel chain above my right wrist—probably to keep from crushing my fragile body against the glass with his full weight—but his pressure still feels overwhelming, heavy, utterly dominating.
His free hand slides around my throat. Long, rough fingers dig mercilessly into the vulnerable skin of my neck.
I try to shift into a more comfortable position, but the chains, stretched to their limit, don’t let me move.
“Do you feel me?” he asks, grinding into me from behind.
“Not enough,” I hiss, writhing beneath the weight of his crowned chest.
“Really?” He smirks into my ear. This bastard knows exactly what the problem is.
“Pull off my panties,” I rasp, grinding against his stone-hard, throbbing cock through the fabric. My soaked lingerie has become an unbearable barrier between us. “Please. I need this.”
I need to feel him deep inside me right now, in front of those terrifying, shifting shadows writhing before my aching, hard nipples.
He lets out a short, rough laugh that vibrates against my back.
“I’m not your valet, Princess.”
“Then tear them off!” I beg.
His hot, rough palms slide along the inside of my thighs, burning my skin.
I flinch, nearly jerking in my restraints as the delicate lace rips apart with a loud tear under his strong fingers.
The ruined fabric flies off somewhere, leaving my throbbing, dripping cunt vulnerable and under his control.
“And now … do you feel me?”
His palm slides up, and a long finger plunges into my aching, desperate hole with a wet, sucking sound.
“Ye-e-es!” I moan, drawn out and ragged. Losing all control, I push my ass back toward his hand.
My stretched body hums like a live wire. My heart pounds somewhere in my throat, and my spread thighs shake with a heavy, uncontrollable tremor.
“Do you still see them?” he rasps.
Desire still has a tight grip on my hair at the back of my head.
He gives it a rough shake, forcing me to look down at the dance floor.
At that moment, he shoves two fingers into me all the way to the knuckles.
It hurts so much that I stop caring about the shadows.
The pain pushes everything else out. I let out a loud, pitiful sob, and hot tears sting my wide-open eyes.
“I don’t see anything … except your dick,” I whimper. His fingers are working magic on my body—rough and wonderful at the same time—but my aching cunt wants his cock. I need him to fill me completely.
Desire laughs, nasty and amused. The bastard knows exactly what I need.
I writhe in my restraints, trying to grind my hips toward his hand as his long fingers slide in and out with agonizing slowness.
He’s teasing me, dragging out the torment, driving me to frenzy, making me wetter, more pathetic, more desperate for him.
“It doesn’t see anyone but you either, my broken princess,” my Prince Harming confesses in a hot, ragged whisper, his breath burning my ear lobe.
This sudden, raw confession unsettles and pleases me at the same time. Is he lying? He promised to be honest with me, no matter how dirty the truth.
“You could have fucked me … back when you drove me from the Onyx Plaza Hotel,” I gasp out, my breath catching with each thrust of his fingers.
“I dreamed about it for three fucking months. Do you think I waited that long just to give you a quick fuck in the car?” he growls, unexpected fury rumbling in his voice.
“You dreamed about me … while you were tanning on resort beaches?” I laugh bitterly.
Sickening images flash before my eyes—all the gorgeous, willing women he must have fucked to the sound of crashing waves.
The horrible scars don’t ruin him at all, they only accentuate every line of his solid, perfect muscles, making him look like a depraved, dangerous god.
With an enraged snarl, Desire wrenches my hair, forcing my head back, and yanks his fingers out of me. The sudden emptiness echoes inside me with a loud, shameless wet sound. A choked sob leaves me at the abrupt loss of that burning pressure, and I push back toward him.
“While I was killing fucking bastards!” he roars into my ear, furious and enraged. “I fucked seven people with a cannon! Any more questions?”
The flash of his uncontrollable aggression stuns me.
If it weren’t for the chains pulled taut, I’d collapse to the floor and curl up in a pathetic fetal position.
Shadows outside the window? Kiss off! My worst nightmare is right here, holding me by the hair, confessing to murder.
And my broken mind is fixated on only one insane thought: his cock still isn’t inside me.
“Yeah … Can you fuck me too?”
The rage in his roar shifts into lust and wild passion. A sharp, cruel slap on my ass burns my skin, and I let out a ragged, muffled moan. Then the emptiness is gone when he plunges his cock into me.
Oh god, ye-e-es!
I cry out, choking on the blinding flash of pain and something else, something terrifying, all-consuming, something I don’t have a name for.
I’m not a virgin anymore. I glance down. A hot red liquid trickles down, sliding along the inside of my thigh.
The blood stops. God, my cunt is still dripping with nothing but juices, but the pain is still unbearable. His dick is so huge. It’s splitting me open from the inside, and this deep, aching pain is so exquisite it drives me mad. Strangely, I feel so good.
“You weren’t the only one staying faithful, my princess!” he snarls into my ear.
He presses against me from behind, one hand grips the chain for balance, and the other wraps around my neck, locking it in a hard trap with the crook of his elbow.
In this position, he fucks me with the ruthless force of a jackhammer, gradually picking up a crazy pace thrust after thrust. My shackled arms are stretched to the limit, my hands clenched into tight fists.
I shake with each hard thrust; the clanking of chains and my loud, shameless moans fill the entire room.
Desire is right. I stayed faithful to him. Yes, I asked Zack for sex, but I was always faithful to my Prince Harming-Charming. The thought of Zack almost makes me laugh. I would never have let him chain me up and spread me out over an entire club.
The intensity of his movements builds with every second, his thrusts growing deeper, and he holds my neck just as tightly, almost to the point of suffocation.
Suddenly, in the angled glass of the panoramic window beneath me, a reflection flashes; his face appears, superimposed over the dark writhing dance floor below.
Desire has eclipsed all other horrors. The fingers that had been mercilessly pulling my hair finally release their grip.
With a relieved sob, I drop my head into the crook of his hot elbow, surrendering to the rhythm.
I stick out my tongue and lick a drop of sweat from the scar on his tense shoulder. His growl grows louder, vibrating deep in my bones.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks. There’s not a trace of anger in his voice; on the contrary, my boldness clearly turns him on.
“Next time, you’ll have to put a chain on my tongue too.” I run my wet tongue over the hard, ridged scar again, and a chill runs down my spine—it feels like I’m physically touching death itself.
“Oh, believe me, I can arrange that.” He smirks, clearly liking the idea.
His thrusts quicken, becoming frantic. A powerful, blinding orgasm seizes my cunt. The shackles bolted to the floor pull taut and clang furiously. It seems if this goes on for another second, his primal strength will rip the metal right out, forcing my cramping legs to close.
“Fuck,” he roars. His hips are pounding against mine, and the world is falling apart before my eyes. “Fuck, fuck … Your pussy will get it all.”
Desire jerks and spills inside me with searing heat.
He takes a step back to collect the cum that has dripped out and smears it back into my shrinking cunt.
At the same time, the pad of his thumb slides higher, stroking my anus, as if he’s hoping to try a new hole in the future.
This thought shakes me so much a new orgasm is coming.
“Have I already said that if someone even sees your body, they’ll die?” His thoughtful words bring me back to consciousness.
“Yep …, but say it again,” I croak in a strangled voice.
He bends down, covering me with heat, and growls low in my ear. “I’ll rip out the bastard’s throat with my bare hands.”
I close my eyes, drowning in the pleasure of goosebumps running over my skin. And my Prince Harming bends under me, sinks lower, and imperiously kisses the sensitive folds around my throbbing pussy.
“Only I can own it all,” he breathes into my bare skin.