“Say it so my head hears it,” says Gustav.
“I trust you.”
He reaches to my desk and grabs a candle. It’s long, red, and the smooth wax is unburned.
I gasp, eyes widening as I strain to look back.
“You’ve slithered under my skin,” he says, voice low, almost trembling. “Like an asp with wicked motives.”
I shiver hard. Something inside me answers him, something dark and needy and willing to be wicked for him if he asked. My lips part as a whimper escapes, and I glance back. His eyes are blown wide, breath harsh, jaw clenched like he’s fighting something only he can hear. The bruising grip tightens.
Then warmth hits my backside. A wet sound. He spits on me. My whole body jolts. The violation sends heat flashing throughme so fast I gasp again. His thumb drags through it and circles my tight asshole, slow, testing, obscene. I can’t move. I can’t think. My mind blanks into pure, trembling want.
“You want someone else here,” he says.
My head lifts in shock. “No.”
Another slap. Harder. I flinch and drop my cheek back down fast. He wants obedience. Total obedience. My pulse pounds loud in my ears.
Something hard touches me. Then it pushes inside. I grunt, fingers clawing at the floor. Pain blooms. Not unbearable, but sharp enough to make my eyes water. He pumps the candle once, twice, slow and punishing, and my legs tremble uncontrollably.
“Who is this?” he asks.
I choke on confusion. “What—”
“Name a man.”
A trap. I know it instantly. My pulse skews sideways. The first name that rises is Brutus, because we had been talking about him earlier, because his face flickered through my mind for a single second of weakness and I hate myself for it. I stop it from leaving my mouth just in time.
“No one,” I whisper.
His breath snarls above me. The smooth object pushes deeper, the girth thickening. I cry out. His hips move in rhythm with his hand, the dual stimulation maddening.
His fingers slide between my thighs and stroke my clit, slow and taunting, gentle in a way that makes the intrusion even more overwhelming. My body splits between agony and pleasure until I can’t separate either one. The contradiction makes my hips shake.
“Say a name.”
My body is climbing fast, unbearably fast, because of his hand, because he knows exactly how to undo me even whilethreatening to ruin me. I can’t hold back the moan that rips from me.
“Say it,” he growls.
“This is a trap,” I pant.
“Everything is a trap,” he says. “Who is he?”
I hesitate, body trembling under him. My orgasm is climbing fast, humming at the edge, needing only a nudge. He slows just enough to keep me there, hovering, desperate.
“Who is he?” he repeats, thumb never leaving my clit. “You want to cum, devushka? Say a name.”
My walls flutter. My climax teeters. The pressure behind my eyes is blinding. My voice shatters into the air.
“Boris.”
It’s too close to Brutus, but in my state of mind, it’s the only one I could think of.
His breath hisses. “Oh? You love Boris’ cock in your tight little ass, do you not?” He shoves it deeper.
I bite my lip hard enough to taste copper. He circles my clit with ruthless precision. Pleasure spirals through me so violently that my thighs quake. I spread them further, completely at his mercy. I try to speak but it’s weak.
