Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
VIKTORIA
I tried to rip my wrist from his iron grip, and he gave me the most sinister smile I had ever seen as he tightened his hold. The pressure of his fingers against my pulse sent an unwanted thrill through my veins.
Thrashing my body, I tried to push him away, tried to get out of the cage formed by the wall and his body. I hated how warmth surged in my body, and how much I loved the feeling of him trapping me.
"Take your hands off of me. I will never be the good little pet you want. I will always run from you. Nothing will change that. I will always fight you." Venom dripped from my words, and I meant every one of them.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at me, holding his body against mine. The slate gray of his irises nearly disappeared as his pupils dilated with hunger.
"That's not what you said last night," he taunted.
Shame burned my cheeks as his hard cock pressed into my lower stomach and I knew. I just knew that was exactly what he wanted.
This sadistic son of a bitch wanted me to fight.
Artem wanted to prove that he was bigger than me, stronger than me, and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop him. That shouldn't have turned me on as much as it did. What was wrong with me that my body craved him, ached at the idea of his claiming me?
"I'm not your pet," I said between clenched teeth.
"My pet?" he taunted. "Now there's an idea. You'd look so beautiful with a collar around your neck. Forced to obey my commands at the end of a leash."
He gripped my throat with one hand, running his thumb across the underside of my chin, tilting my face so I looked up into his eyes. The calluses on his fingertips brushed against my skin, a reminder of the violence those hands were capable of.
I stared back at him with rage in my eyes. My jaw clenched in determination as I ignored the wet heat between my thighs.
"This is your last chance to behave, princess." He leaned in to whisper in my ear, his breath hot against my skin, sending goose bumps racing down my neck. "I'm starting to think I was right, you like being punished."
"Fuck you," I said, closing my eyes. There was no way to hide my desire in them, and I refused to give him the satisfaction.
"Oh, someone is definitely getting fucked," he said with a dark laugh.
Artem picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, the sudden movement forcing the air from my lungs.
"Put me down," I screamed and kicked wildly, hoping to nail him in the gut or the balls or something. I didn't care where.
He slapped my ass hard enough that between the sharp sting and the way his shoulder dug into my stomach, I couldn't catch my breath. Not until he dropped me in the middle of an enormous bed covered only in black silk sheets.
I tried to scramble away, but he pinned me down. His hand grabbed my throat as he straddled me, pushing his weight down on my hips, keeping me pinned to the bed. The silk sheets slid beneath me, cool against my heated skin.
"This wasn't how I wanted this to happen," he said as he pulled his belt from his pants with the now unmistakable whoosh of Italian leather sliding against a fine woolen suit. "But I'm still going to enjoy putting you in your place."
"My place isn't for you to determine," I said, still fighting him with everything I had.
There was no possibility I could ever win, but I refused to give up. I refused to go quietly. If he wanted me, if he was going to keep me in this cage, I was going to make it a living hell for him.
It didn't matter how much I enjoyed the way he fucked me; it didn't matter that every time he touched me, my blood roared in my ears and it became harder to breathe.
He still didn't get to make these choices for me.
Just because I wanted him didn't mean I was going to make this easy for him.
He grabbed my wrists in one hand and looped his belt around them, pulling it tight then securing it to the metal bed frame. The leather bit into my skin, not enough to break it, but enough to remind me that I was trapped.
Instinctively, my fingers wrapped around it and I tried to pull, but it wasn't going anywhere, and I couldn't loosen it around my wrists.
Artem moved back on the bed, getting off of me to look at his handiwork. He ran his thumb over his lips as he smirked down at me. I had never wanted to hit someone in the face more in my life.
"You look good like this, like a wild animal trapped, fighting the inevitable.”
He ran his hands down my body, over my clothes, cupping my breasts for a moment before sliding down to the waist of my pants, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
My blouse surrendered to his tug, the tucked-in hem pulling free of my pants, the delicate fabric no match against his grip as he easily ripped it in half, exposing my body to him and the cool air of the room.
The simple but incredibly masculine, dominating act sent a thrill through me I couldn't ignore. My nipples hardened beneath my bra, betraying me.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a knife, and flicked it open. It was only a few inches long but looked wickedly sharp as it shone under the light the metal surface caught and reflected.
"I should punish you," he said.
He ran the blade from my collarbone down over the swell of my breast. I could feel how sharp it was, but he didn't cut me. I knew he wasn't going to.
That wasn't his game. He wasn't going to hurt me; he was trying to scare me into submission. There was no way Artem would really hurt me. He wanted to keep me too badly. No one wanted to play with a scarred doll.
I wasn't going to give in that easily.
"What's wrong, baby?" I taunted. "The only way you can get a woman in your bed is to tie her there?"
He huffed out a quick laugh before running the sharp point down my sternum to the middle of my bra and then with one quick clean slice cut through the stretched lace.
The bra cups fell to the sides, exposing my breasts, allowing him to run the flat of the blade over my bare nipple, the edge pressing into my skin.
There was no danger of me being cut, but the proximity of the sharp edge was still an illicit thrill; the icy coldness of the metal against my heated flesh still sent shivers through me.
That cocky bastard knew it, too. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I could glare at him all I wanted. I could swear at him, call him names and degrade him, but it didn't change the way my body responded to him.
He could see the way my nipples hardened at his gaze, my pale complexion blushed pink at his touch. Hell, I bet he could even feel my heart race whenever he brushed my skin.
"You are so perfect," he said, more to himself than to me. "You look like an angel sent to deliver me from my torment, but you fight me like the devil herself. There could never be a more perfect woman for me."
"Maybe you should try finding one that is happy to be in your bed," I growled, yanking at my binding, bucking my hips from side to side, trying to toss him off.
"Why would I want a woman who is simply happy or content to fuck me when I can have one that gets off on fighting me?"
How did he see right through me so clearly? It was infuriating.
"I don't—" I argued with him, but he put his hands on my hips above the sleek black slacks I was wearing.
"There's no reason to lie to me. We both know your cunt is hot and dripping for me."
I fought harder to push him off of me and to my shock, he willingly got up.
Only to grab my ankles and flip me over onto my front. One smooth move that had me airborne for a moment, then landing back on the bed, flipped over.
Immediately I got my knees under myself and tried to crawl up the bed to get free. Artem grabbed the back of my pants and ripped them from me, tossing the shredded fabric away.
His hand landed on my shoulder and stopped me from crawling further up the bed. His hot body covered mine as he leaned over and whispered in my ear again.
"I'm going to fuck that sweet cunt of yours until you scream my name and I fill you with my hot come. Or you can keep misbehaving, and I'll grab another belt to whip your perfect ass and pretty little cunt before I fuck your ass again. I might even leave a few stripes across your breasts before I'm done. The choice is yours, princess. Be my good little girl, or my bad little girl. Either way, you are mine."
A rush of heat ran through me and for a second, I considered fighting him just to see if he'd do it. Getting spanked with his belt hurt a lot and I still had bruises that hadn't completely faded, but every lick of fire from his belt made the pleasure he gave me so much better.
I wasn't ready for him to take my ass again, not yet. But what did it mean if I just gave in? Did that mean he won? Did it mean that I was consenting to his heavy-handed dictatorship over my life?
I didn't know what I wanted, but there was no time to decide.
My hesitation must have been the answer he was looking for. Artem placed his hand on my back and pressed my shoulders down, so that my back arched, and my thighs spread for him.
"Good girl," he purred, and a rush of desire slammed through me. "But I still have to punish you for breaking things. If you come before I give you permission”—he kissed my shoulder—"you will get the belt."
Even a simple press of his lips to my bare shoulder was enough for me to want to obey. "I can't wait to hear you scream for me as I leave fresh pink lines across your pale skin."
I was going to obey, but not to please him.
He wanted to break me; he wanted to prove that he was better than me, so he was going to do everything he could to make me come and I simply wouldn't do it. I was going to prove that he couldn't break me. I controlled my body and my pleasure, not him.
He kissed his way over my body, every single touch of his lips sending more shocks of pleasure through me as I ached for more. I bit back a moan and let my head hang down between my outstretched arms, still tied to the headboard.
The distinct flick of the knife cut through the heavy silence of the room as he traced the tip across my lower back to the center of my spine and trailed it down my seam until he got to the damp, wet fabric covering my core. With one swift cut, he sliced through the panties and then the strap on one side and pulled them away.
"I was right. You are dripping for me," he growled. He closed the knife with an audible click and tossed it aside. "I want to hear you say it."
I clenched my teeth together as he ran a single finger over my seam, sending more shivers through me.
"Say it," he demanded. "I want to hear how much fighting me turns you on."
I still said nothing, and he pulled his hand away just to slam it against my ass, and then squeezed the heated flesh. "Say it, or I get the belt."
"Fighting you makes me wet," I admitted, keeping my jaw clenched as I spoke the words that sent a stinging fire to my cheeks that matched the one shaped like his hand across my ass.
"Again, but this time like you mean it." Artem ran a single finger over my slit again, just caressing until he circled my clit.
"Fighting you makes me wet," I said again, this time with a gasp.
"Keep going." He placed a kiss on my lower back before moving behind me where I couldn't see him. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, facing away.
"I like the way you claim me. I don't want to, but I do. Every time you touch me, every time you threaten to punish me, I get hot and wet and—" The words kept coming, spilling from my lips.
He shouldn't have known any of this. It should have felt like I was losing something, but it didn't. It felt like I was just telling him what he already knew.
Of course, he knew. He was behind me, and I was naked, on my knees, with my back arched. He could see everything.
"Keep telling me what you like," he said again. The bed shifted behind me and his breath was warm against my most sensitive skin.
I opened my eyes to see him, still fully dressed, lying on his back under me.
"I like how it feels when you kiss me," I admitted.
He looked up at me, his gray eyes intense as he smirked at me.
Then he grabbed my hips and pulled me down to his lips, my thighs spreading, stretching as he slowly stroked my clit with his tongue.
"Oh god," I cried as he pulled me down further, locking my hips in place, his hand like an iron bar on my back.
"Keep talking," he said against my clit. Even the vibrations of his voice sent another wave of ecstasy crashing over me.
"I like when you already have everything set. Everyone bows to your will. You don't have to tell people you're in charge, they just know," I said.
His assault on my clit became ravenous, as he slid two fingers deep in my pussy, another just brushing against my other hole.
"I get wet whenever you make demands of me, even though I hate it," I gasped as the pressure in my core built. I focused on trying to suppress that pressure. If I came, he won. "I hate how you control me, but I also want you because you do."
He let out a low groan against my clit and pressed the two fingers inside me directly against my G-spot, intensifying the pressure.
Looking over my shoulder, I could see his hard cock sticking out of his pants. The hand that wasn't on my back was gripping his cock, squeezing at the base. He liked this. Maybe that was how I won. Maybe I could break him before he broke me.
"After you left last night, I touched myself. I came on my fingers while I thought about how it felt to have your cock sliding against my tongue, and how fucking hot it was when you fucked my face."
He groaned again, and I gave a little extra as I ground my hips down on his face, adding to the delicious pleasure.
"I made myself come over and over thinking about how you just bent me over the sofa and took me. How even when you're angry with me, you still make me come, and I wanted more. I made myself come thinking about you touching me, teasing me, punishing me."
He groaned again, and I knew his iron control was cracking, but so was I.
I had touched myself last night thinking about him.
I was sore and pissed, but also so painfully aroused.
He made me come hard with his cock in my ass but just remembering it wasn't the same.
I needed to feel his body against mine, like I had in his bed.
Or I needed him to fuck me so thoroughly I came apart on his cock over and over.
"I fantasized about you checking my grades and then forcing me to do my coursework naked, bent over your desk while you spanked me for every wrong answer, and slid your cock further inside me for every right one." Every dirty thought I had about him came spilling from my lips, and I wouldn't have stopped speaking even if I could.
"More," he growled. He was getting closer to breaking.
"I thought about every argument we have had, or almost had, or could have, and how they all ended with us fucking."
"Did you get punished every time?" he asked as he took a breath, then slid his fingers out of me and replaced them with his tongue. The sensation wasn't as strong, but it was still intense, and I arched my back a little further. His wet fingers reached up between my breasts.
"No, sometimes I won the fight, and I was rewarded. You would spread me out on your desk and lick me, pushing me into coming over and over as an apology before you fucked me," I said before wrapping my lips around his fingers and sucking.
Tasting myself on his fingers was incredibly erotic, the spicy warmth that was all him mixing with the sweet tanginess that was all me.
"One time, I punished you in my fantasy," I admitted, slipping his fingers from my lips.
His hand went to my breast, pinching and kneading.
He let out a warning growl. I knew Artem wouldn't like the idea of being punished.
"You fucked up," I said, trying to think past the overwhelming pleasure and pressure building in my core, begging for release.
I needed some control. Even when he was in charge, I needed to show him I still mattered. I still needed freedom to make my own decisions and for him to respect them.
"So I made you watch as I touched myself. I was in your bed, wearing only your tie as I touched myself and made myself come over and over. You weren't allowed to touch me, not until I said?—"
He fucked me harder with his fingers. The finger that was just brushing against my dark hole was now massaging it, slipping only an inch inside.
"Fuck, Artem," I groaned, leaning into his touch. "I need to come. Let me come."
"Not yet," he said.
Shivers and a cold sweat broke out over my entire body. My thighs were shaking so hard they hurt. I couldn't hold on much longer, but I refused to break before he did.
"Artem," I said, this time a demand, not a plea.
"No," he growled and pushed his finger in further. It burned, but that just intensified everything.
"Artem," I screamed.
He pulled away from me, grabbed my ankles, and flipped me over onto my back.
He shrugged off his shirt and kicked off his pants. Then lined his cock up with my aching cunt. The blunt head of him pressed against my entrance, hot and hard.
"Admit you want me, that you crave the way I fuck you," he growled.
"No." I wouldn't. I'd already admitted too much.
"Admit it." He drew tight circles over my clit with his thumb.
"No," I said again.
"Admit it or I will leave you here tied to this bed, needing release. And I will go find someone else to?—"
Jealousy surged inside of me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him toward me. I wanted to kill someone at the thought of his hands on another woman.
"Admit it," he shouted.
"Fine,” I shouted back. “I want you. I need your cock inside of me and even when I hate you, I want you to fuck me into submission."
He thrust in hard and fast.
The delicious stretch of him filling me completely made me cry out.
"It might not mean you don't hate me, but it means that you are mine."
He was brutal, and it was fucking perfect.
I came twice screaming his name, and he followed right after, his cock pulsing inside me as he emptied himself with a guttural groan.
He untied me before collapsing next to me and pulling me into his arms. His heart pounded against my back, his breath hot against my neck.
"You’re going to fight me every step of the way, aren’t you?" he muttered against my skin, and I could feel the dark promise in his words.
We both knew where this twisted, toxic relationship was heading…and it wasn’t to a happily ever after.
Far from it.