“Still so tight, even after coming undone on my tongue,” he mused with smug satisfaction. “I wonder how long it will take before you're begging for more, before you're craving the feel of my cock splitting you open, claiming you completely...”
I hated him. I hated the way his words slithered into my mind. I hated the way my own fucking body answered his touch, the way it seemed to respond to him when all I wanted was to fight.
He nipped at my earlobe. “Don't fight it, Dolcezza. Embrace what you are - a vicious little slut, desperate for a real man to fuck you senseless.”
His words were venom, seeping under my skin. I wanted to spit in his face, to curse him to hell and back. But when he withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips, his tongue flicked out to taste me with slow and deliberate cruelty, and my breath hitched in my throat as I stared wide-eyed at him.
His eyes never left mine, watching my every reaction with that sadistic glee.
“Now, be a good wife and get on your knees. It's time for your next lesson in obedience.” He commanded coldly, one hand already working between us, unleashing his throbbing erection.
A strangled noise left my lips as I lowered myself.
I squeezed my eyes shut. No.No. I’m not. This isn’t me.
But the truth was as ruthless as him. And Zagreus? Zagreus lived to strip me of it.
Desire was such a traitorous beat, licking at my skin with molten hunger, and even as my mind clawed for escape, I knew I was gone. He was the knife pressed to my throat. Dark abyss whispering sweet nothings, the devil in a silk-lined coffin, grinning as he buried me alive.
I should hate him. I did. But hate was a fickle thing. A blade with two edges, and one of them was carving my ruin with every breathless second. My body betrayed me.
They said a woman’s virtue was a fortress, but what was a fortress against a siege that was over before it began?
His cock head teased my slick folds, the thick girth parting the lips, not yet pushing inside but hovering maddeningly at my entrance. His eyes, dark and hungry, raked over my trembling form kneeling before him. A cruel smirk played on his lips as he drank in the sight.
“Look at you, Dolcezza, so wet and ready for me already,” he taunted, rolling his hips to grind his cock against my slit, not entering me but painting my folds with my own arousal mixed with his leaking pre-cum. “Your cunt is practically begging to be stuffed full of my dick, isn't it?”
One large hand gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his smug, arrogant gaze. The other hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, holding me in place as he continued his filthy torment.
“I bet that pathetic little prick you called a fiancé never made you this desperate, this hungry for cock.” Zagreus sneered,punctuating his words with a sharp thrust against my core, the head of his dick catching on my entrance but not pushing inside. “He could never fill you like I can, never fuck you like you need to be fucked.”
He leaned in closer, his breath hot and heavy against my face. “Tell me, little wife, don't you want to feel my cock stretching you wide, claiming every inch of your greedy little cunt? Don't you want to scream my name as I ruin you for any other man?”
His voice dripped with cruel, arrogant amusement, relishing the power he held over me at that moment. His cock continued to tease my entrance, and my insides twitched. “Beg for it, Dolcezza. Beg for my cock like the desperate slut you are. Maybe if you ask nicely enough, I'll give you what you're craving...”
He wanted me to beg. To be unravelled by him. To fold like paper beneath his grasp. And the most terrifying part? I thought I just might.
With a harsh, animalistic grunt, he finally plunged his thick manhood deep into my core, not giving me any time to adjust as he began to ram into me with brutal, punishing strokes. My back arched, a scream tearing from my throat at the sudden, rough invasion stretching me wide.
I had always thought pain and pleasure were two separate spectrums. That pleasure and pain existed as two different things, never meant to intertwine. But Zagreus was both, like a cruel alchemist who turned suffering into seduction, pain into poetry.
And I was the ink bleeding onto his pages.
I wanted to believe I still had a choice, that my body was mine to govern, that the trembling in my limbs was fear alone and not something far more damning. But the truth was bitter. I had lost this battle long before it began. He saw it, felt it and relished in it.
Shame curled in my stomach as his thrusts became violent, shaking me, shaking the bed we were on, and my world at the same time.
It wasn’t real, I told myself. It was just biology, just nerve endings firing against my will.
But no lie, no desperate justification could erase the way I clenched around him, the way his voice dripped into my ears like candle wax, hot and slow, searing through my dignity.
“Fuck, your cunt feels even better than I imagined,” he growled, one hand fisting in my hair, yanking my head back as he pounded into me mercilessly. “So goddamn tight and hot, like it was made to milk my cock.”
I wanted to weep, but my body had already answered him in ways my lips never would.
He flipped me onto my hands and knees, my arse high in the air, and drove into me even harder from behind. The new angle allowed him to plunge impossibly deep, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against my clit with each brutal thrust.
“That's it, take my cock like the filthy slut you are,” Zagreus snarled, giving my arse a harsh smack that must have left a handprint on my skin. “I'm going to ruin this pussy, ruin it so good that you'll never forget who it belongs to.”
