Chapter 5 #5
“Tell me what you want, kotenok,” he demanded. The heat from the blows radiated inward, turning the sting into a deep, throbbing ache that was more ecstasy than pain. My world had narrowed to the sting of his hand, the heat of my own arousal, and the unwavering, resonant sound of his voice.
I shook my head, denying him with all the desperation I had left.
Slap!
This one was harder, aimed directly at my swollen, needy core. A cry was torn from my throat. My hips bucked in a silent plea for more.
“What was that?” he asked, a dark, conquering amusement in his tone.
I couldn’t speak. Words were useless. My body had become a language he could read, a vessel for sensations I had never known I could feel. He was breaking me apart, piece by piece, and I knew at that moment that his victory over me was inevitable.
“Tell me,” he commanded. “Tell me you want my cock inside you.”
The words, so blunt, so raw, hung in the air between us.
He brought his hand down again, not a single slap, but a series of quick, sharp smacks against my inner thighs, a stinging, punishing rhythm that made me writhe on his lap, my bare pussy rubbing against his fabric-covered dick.
“Beg for it.”
And then, something inside me snapped.
This wasn’t a surrender. This wasn’t a defeat. It was a release. A catharsis. The rage, the grief, the pain I had carried for so long, it all came pouring out of me, not in tears, but in a desperate, ragged plea.
“Please,” I gasped.
“Please what?” he prodded, his fingers sliding through my slick heat, a teasing caress that was more torment than comfort. I writhed against him, trying to make him touch me a bit more firmly so that I could come right then and there all over his hand.
“Please… fuck me,” I whispered, the words a final, devastating admission of defeat. “Viktor… please.”
A sound of pure male satisfaction rumbled from his chest. He shifted behind me and I heard the sound of a zipper.
He was freeing his cock.
He moved then, lifting me with his arms underneath mine as easily as if I weighed nothing.
My world tilted as I was hauled into the air, and twisted around to face him, my legs naturally straddling his, my body still humming with sensation.
He didn’t lay me down. He didn’t ease me onto the bed either.
He held me suspended for a heart-stopping second, his powerful arms the only thing keeping me from crashing to the floor. Then he dropped me.
I gasped, a shocked, pained cry as I was impaled on his cock.
Fuck.
Oh, my God.
He was big.
He hadn’t even bothered to fully undress.
His pants were pushed down just enough, and I was being lowered onto the thick, hard length of him.
He was far bigger than I had anticipated but should have expected, a thick, unyielding stretch that burned in a way that was both agony and ecstasy at the same time.
My body, already overly sensitized from the spanking, clenched around him, a desperate, instinctual reaction to the sudden, overwhelming intrusion of his big cock inside me.
“Aaahhhh, fuuuuck,” he groaned, a harsh, guttural sound of pure male pleasure. He let me sit there for a moment, fully speared by the length of him, a living, breathing trophy of his conquest over me. My head fell back, my body arching, my hands bracing against his shoulders to keep myself upright.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his hands coming up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, still sore and tender from his earlier rough attention. “Just sitting on my cock. Taking me so well. Such a good girl, kotenok.”
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I could barely even think.
“I’m looking forward to playing with these beautiful tits some more,” he said, his heated gaze flicking down to my chest as he kneaded the sensitive flesh. He gave my nipples another rough, possessive roll, and a jolt of pure fire shot straight to my core.
My nipples were still so sore, I couldn’t help but whimper at his rough treatment. Then he pinched them hard and I keened even more loudly than before.
His smirk was a slow, devastating curve of his mouth. “They’re sensitive, aren’t they? Good. I like them that way.”
His hands roamed over my body. He traced the scars on my ribs, the line of my collarbone, the curve of my hips. He was learning me, mapping me, claiming me, one touch at a time and somewhere deep inside of me, I was loving every minute of it.
I hated him for it. I hated myself for it.
His thumb found my clit, and I shattered.
I screamed, trying desperately to claw my way off his cock, but when his arm wound around my waist and held me in place, my orgasm just grew that much more intense.
In that moment, I was no longer a soldier, an agent, a woman in control.
I was just a body, a mass of nerves and sensations, utterly at his mercy.
He let me ride it out, his hands on my hips, holding me steady. He watched me closely, like a predator savoring his kill.
“That’s it,” he urged. “Let go. Give me everything. Then I’m going to give you the fucking you’ve needed since way before I first laid eyes on you, kotenok.”
He lifted me. He let me feel every inch of him as he pulled out, a long, torturous drag that left me feeling empty and aching.
Then he drove back in.