CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Sins and Desires
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sins and Desires
My jaw ached. My tongue burned. My throat clenched around the sheer impossibility of him. He was too thick, too big, too much for my body to take, and yet—he wasn’t stopping. And he didn’t seem like the type of man to stop either.
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I forced myself to breathe, to adjust and survive this moment without breaking.
His fingers flexed in my hair, controlling every motion, every breath, every inch I took as he forced his manhood into my mouth.
As if he didn’t know or didn’t care if my throat was burning like crazy.
“Come on, Dolcezza.” I hated how his voice was getting raspier and heavier. The sheer lust and desire in his eyes had me pinned in place and kept my head moving back and forth. “You can take it.”
No, I couldn’t. I knew it. He knew it. But that wasn’t the point.
The point was watching me try. Watching me struggle. Watching me mould myself into something he could ruin. Something entirely his.
My throat convulsed as he pressed deeper, the blunt, throbbing heat of him pushing past the tight resistance. My fingers scrambled against his thighs, not to stop him—there was no stopping this—but to anchor myself to something solid so that I wouldn’t end up passing out.
His free hand tilted my chin, forcing me to look up.
His stormy gaze burned with possession, with cruelty, with something far more dangerous than lust, and he was still inside my mouth.
I bet I looked obscenely lewd in his eyes; that image of me was evident in his eyes.
And he loved that more than anything. “There you go,” he praised, dragging his thumb over the corner of my mouth, smearing the moisture that gathered there and pushing the girth of his cock further in.
It didn’t make sense how he was still only halfway.
“So fucking beautiful when you’re choking on my cock. ”
Humiliation licked up my spine, like a slow, searing crawl of fire and shame. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never return. But he wouldn’t allow that. He demanded presence. He demanded my submission in every way that mattered.
I struggled to take more of him, my throat constricting as my breath stuttered, but he gave no reprieve. Just a slow, steady push that stole the air from my lungs.
“Relax,” he ordered, his grip tightening as he guided my movements again. Slower this time, giving me more time to adjust to his length and controlling the rhythm with devastating care. “You’ll learn. I’ll make you learn.”
I didn’t want to learn. Didn’t want to be moulded into the perfect little pet who knew exactly how to please him.
But my body betrayed me, adjusting inch by inch, stretching to accommodate his brutal demands.
If I didn’t, he’d probably throw me across the room and force his way in.
Like he said, I liked the idea of fake consent rather than being taken by force.
A strangled sound left me as he pressed in further, his fingers flexing, his breath hitching like he could feel every desperate attempt my throat made to reject him.
In and out.
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice husky, edged with dark satisfaction. “You’re already getting better.”
My nails bit into his slacks, my lungs burned, and my dignity lay in pieces at his feet. And yet, there was no escaping the inevitable.
Not when he already owned me. His fingers lightly grazed over the side of my throat, then moved to undo my bun, letting my hair fall all over the sides of my face.
I tried my best not to tremble, reminding myself that this would end.
The huge thing inside my mouth was far from calming down, and the soreness in my cheeks had started to dull now.
My mind wasn’t mine anymore. My breaths weren’t mine.
Shame, rage and fear. I used to think I was strong.
That I had a backbone, a voice, a choice.
But here, on my knees, with his fingers in my hair and his cock claiming my mouth, I realized the truth—strength meant nothing in the face of absolute power.
This wasn’t just possession. It was obliteration.
To men like him, women weren’t humans. We were objects—bought, used, discarded. A toy to be played with. A doll to be posed. Desire didn’t soften men like him. He was the fire, and I was destined to burn.
“Breathe.” His command came harshly and clearly, laced with lust and something dark.
He pulled his manhood out, and I panted, greedily sucking in the air.
My chest rose up and down, and I’d lost strength in my body.
Through my teary eyes, I dared to look at him and immediately regretted it; he was already staring down at me.
He let out a deep groan, and with an eyebrow arched, he held the back of my neck and forced me to look up at him. My fearful eyes caught the proud satisfaction in his eyes.
His eyes darkened by the second, and he placed his hand on my chin, squeezing tightly. The force exerted was too much, and before I knew it, I was being pushed down on the couch, and he was towering over me.
It all happened in a single second, a rough hand grabbing my arm, pulling me up, and then within the same second, I was being pushed in a way that my head dangled from the couch, and the rest of my body was on the couch as my eyes stared at the ceiling.
It had taken mere seconds.
With a gust of wind, he was hovering over me. My eyes widened as he placed his one knee on the side, leaning down enough to make his manhood slap against my lips. “Open, Dolcezza.”
I did, because I had no other choice. As he forced me to swallow his huge rod, my vision began to blur at the edges. His thrusts didn’t slow; instead, as if he was possessed by some deep, dark desire, he penetrated further and further. In this position, his manhood reached the depths of my throat.
My thoughts left me, and so did my sanity. I couldn’t think of anything, let alone breathe. This man was the epitome of madness. He did not care if I would break this way, if I would never be able to see myself again. All he cared about was his pleasure.
The weak noises of my breathing and the shivers of my coughing merely caused him to swell with blood.
Making me feel like I was about to have my throat pierced.
I heard him let out a throaty chuckle, and suddenly, an intense pressure was placed between my legs.
Startled, the intrusion made me panic, and the maniac took this opportunity to go even deeper.
No. No, please…
But my pleas didn’t reach him fully. The dress was shredded, and the remnants clung to my trembling flesh. A yelp bubbled in my throat, swallowed by his manhood as he grabbed the hem of my panties and pulled them aside, gently rubbing his two fingers on my womanhood.
I reached my limit. The sudden invasion made my body feverish.
I had never felt this way before, this sense of pain and…
something strange. Adrian never treated me this way ever.
He was such a caring man, making sure I was comfortable enough for him to have sex with me.
Our sex life was all soft and sweet. He’d kiss me, fondle me and make love to me.
But this… this was entirely different.
The man I was about to have sex with, the one who murdered Adrian, the one whose name I still didn’t know, had no soft bones in his body.
He didn’t kiss, he didn’t fondle me… and I knew he wouldn’t make love to me.
He’d fuck me, but not before ruining me first, moulding my body to the shape of his fingers.
Tears hadn’t stopped flowing; instead, they only made it worse. It didn’t make sense. What did he want from me? From a girl so broken she was afraid of gathering her own pieces. He’d left no choice but to turn to him.
“You’re wet.” I shut my eyes, clenching my thighs together, but he only slapped them open before caressing my folds with tenderness he didn’t have. “Your cunt’s dripping, Dolcezza.”
No.
This was my body’s reaction, not my soul’s.
This was just my body. This was just my body.
I reminded myself again and again. But the monster above me had other plans; his hand cupped my core, and his thrusts became slow now, but deeper.
He growled animalistically before pulling his entire manhood out, but I could feel the tip against my lips.
He slapped it against my cheek once, twice, and then ejaculated all over my face.
Shame flooded my veins, making me wish for hell.
My vision clouded over, and I blinked my eyes rapidly before I saw black dots.
I blinked again, and this time it was his satisfied face I saw before I lost consciousness.