Chapter 7 #3
“Did you think I’d be gentle?” he asked. “Did you think I’d let you talk about my brothers fucking you and making you come and not make you regret it?”
Another lash. And another. He set a brutal, unrelenting pace, the leather landing with a harsh crack that was the most goddamn obscene music I’d ever heard.
The pain was a living, breathing thing, a fire that was consuming me from the inside out, but beneath the pain, a new and more dangerous heat was spreading through my veins.
It was a heat that made my blood sing, a liquid ache that pooled in my stomach and settled between my thighs.
My hips were bucking now, not to escape the blows, but to meet them. It was humiliating. It was empowering. It was shameful.
“You’re getting wet,” he observed, his tone darkly amused. “I can see it glistening between your thighs, my needy little slut.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, a wave of shame washing over me. I wanted to deny it, but the evidence was undeniable. I could feel the slickness of my arousal, the way my body was responding to his punishment, betraying me in the most intimate way possible.
He paused, and I felt a different kind of heat: the heat of his gaze.
He shifted behind me, and his fingers suddenly delved between my legs.
He slid through my soaked folds, found my clit, already swollen and sensitive, and circled it a few times, teasing and taunting me with flashes of fiery desire.
He brought his glistening fingers up to my lips.
“Taste yourself,” he commanded.
I hesitated, my pride a fragile shield against the onslaught of his dominance.
He pressed his fingers against my lips and I opened my mouth, the scent of my own arousal a potent, dizzying aphrodisiac.
I tasted myself on his fingers, a sweet, salty, musky flavor that was both strange and intimately familiar.
“You like this,” he stated, not a question, but a fact. “You like the pain. You like the humiliation. You like me taking control.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It was too much. The words were a dam, and if I spoke, the floodgates would open.
He laughed, the sound triumphant. “We both know the truth, little slut.”
He raised the belt again, and my whole body tensed in anticipation.
He belted me once more.
Hard.
He didn’t stop after that. He continued to thrash me, making sure to lay down welts from the tops of my bare ass cheeks to the middle of my tender thighs.
I lost track of the number of times he whipped that belt across my flesh.
I lost track of everything but the sting of the leather and the heat pooling in my core.
The pain was a blazing fire, but I was burning on the inside with need with every crack of the belt against my naked ass.
At some point, I tried to crawl forward on the bed to avoid the stinging lashes, but there was no escape.
I was coming apart at the seams, a million pieces scattered on the bed. The soldier, the agent, the woman who had fought so hard to maintain control was gone, replaced by a creature of pure sensation. A creature who craved the pain, the humiliation, the loss of control.
He finally stopped, and I lay there, panting, my body trembling, my mind a blank, hazy fog. My ass was a throbbing inferno, a masterpiece of red welts, I was sure of it.
He dropped the belt on the floor. The soft clink of the buckle was a reassuring sound in the quiet room. He was done.
Then I heard the rasp of a zipper.
The soft thud of his jeans hitting the floor.
My heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. This was it. The moment I had been dreading and craving in equal measure. The moment he would take me. Claim me. Own me.
His big body loomed behind me. He kicked my feet wider apart, a rough, possessive gesture that made my pussy clench in anticipation. I could feel the heat of him, the hard, solid length of his cock pressing against the swollen, slick folds of my sex.
I braced myself. Waiting.
He slammed himself into me in one brutal thrust.
There was no preamble. No slow, gentle stretching. No consideration for my comfort. Just a ruthlessly dominating invasion that stole my breath away.
I cried out, a shamefully ragged sound that was half pain, half shock.
He was big and I wasn’t exactly prepared for it.
His cock was a thick, hard stretch that burned in a way that was both agony and ecstasy.
He’d given me no warning, no preparation, and my body, already sensitized from the belting, rebelled against the sudden, overwhelming intrusion.
“Does it hurt, little slut?” he growled, his hands gripping my hips like a vise, pulling me back to meet him.
I could only moan in response.
He started to move then, really move. He pulled out, leaving just the head of his cock inside me, then rammed back inside me, making my whole body jerk.
My body responded instinctually, my hips rising to meet his thrusts, my inner muscles clamping down on him. His hand came down on my already sore ass in a sudden, stinging slap that sent a jolt of pure fire straight to my core. I yelped before I could stop myself.
Another one, on the other cheek. My whole body tensed, a fresh wave of pain washing over me, mixing with the pleasure building in my core.
“You’re getting wetter,” he observed as he drove into me, over and over again. “You like this, don’t you? You like me punishing you and using you like this.”
I couldn’t answer. It was too much. It was not enough.
Then he stilled.
I whimpered at the loss of sensation, a desperate, pleading sound I didn’t even know I was capable of making.
“Andrei,” I breathed. “Please.”
His thumb brushed over my bottom. “You think this is all you’re getting, don’t you, my greedy little slut?”
My breath came unsteady at his words. He ran a hand over the stinging skin of my ass, a soothing caress that filled me with trepidation.
“You need more,” he murmured. “You need to be reminded to show some respect to those you belong to.”
He pulled out of me completely, and I cried out at the sudden, aching emptiness. I felt him shift behind me, the heat of his body radiating against my back.
“Stay still,” he commanded.
His fingers slid between my cheeks, not to enter my pussy, but to test. To explore. He traced the tight, puckered ring of my ass, and I couldn’t help but tense.
I was not prepared for this.
“Andrei, wait—”
“Did I give you permission to speak?” he growled, and I felt the hot, wet tip of his cock press against the tight entrance. He was coated in my arousal, and the thought of him taking me that way was both terrifying and intoxicating.
“I don’t want—”
“I know,” he cut me off. “But you’re about to get it anyway.”
He pushed.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
The pressure was immense. A slow, burning stretch that made my whole body go rigid. I hissed out a long breath, my hands fisting the quilt, my eyes squeezed shut. It was too much. The burn was a brutal, insistent thing, and I couldn’t help but cry out.
“Andrei, please,” I begged, my voice a ragged sob. “It hurts.”
He stopped. Just for a second. His hands came to my hips, holding me steady. His thumbs stroked the sore, burning skin of my ass, a small, grounding touch, but his cock remained right where it was.
“Breathe, Katerina.” He murmured the hypnotic command. “Relax. Let me in. You’re going to take my cock in this tight little hole whether you like it or not.”
I tried. I really did. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force my muscles to unclench, to accept the impossible intrusion. But my body was fighting me and wholly rejecting the painful stretch.
“Please,” I whispered again. I could hear my broken, pathetic plea and it sounded foreign to my own ears.
“I know,” he said softly. “But you wanted this. You wanted me to take control. You wanted me to push your limits. This is what that feels like.”
He pushed again.
Slowly.
Steadily.
And then, with a sudden, shocking pop, the head of his cock breached my tight ring of muscle.
I cried out in half pain, half shock. The burn was a searing agony that stole my breath away, but he didn’t stop.
Once his cock was fully inside my bottom, he held still, letting me adjust, letting the initial intense pain subside into a weird, throbbing ache. His hands were still on my hips, providing a firm, grounding presence that was the only thing keeping me anchored to reality.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Look at you, such a little slut with your ass full of my cock. You’re so fucking beautiful this way.”
He started to move then.
Slowly.
Carefully.
“You feel so fucking good,” he gritted out. ”So fucking tight around my cock.”
My body started to respond, even though I didn’t want it to. The pain was still there, but it was joined by a new, more intense, fiery heat. A liquid heat that pooled in my belly and spread through my veins.
Fuck.
I was going to come with his cock fucking my ass.
His rhythm picked up. No longer careful, but becoming a hard, relentless rhythm that was designed to break me. He pulled all the way out, then forced himself back inside with a vengeful thrust that made my vision go white.
“You’re mine,” he growled, punctuating each word with a powerful thrust. “All of you belongs to me.”
I don’t know when it started, but my hips rose to meet his thrusts, and I couldn’t make them stop. My body was no longer my own, no longer connected to my mind.
I was losing control.
“Are you going to come?” he demanded. “Are you going to come with my cock in your ass, slut?”
I was instantly overwhelmed, completely dominated.
He reached around me and found my clit. He rolled it between his fingers, a delicious torture that sent sparks of fire shooting through my veins. He knew just how to touch me, how to push my buttons, how to take everything he wanted from me and more.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Come now.”
I obeyed.