Her back arches at the sudden pressure, a small sound escaping her lips—not quite pain, not quite pleasure. The metal warms beneath my fingers as I tug on the barbells, using them to control her movements.
Each pull draws another sound from her throat, a mixture of protest and arousal that feeds the dark satisfaction spreading through me. “Y-you’re sick,” she manages, but her voice lacks conviction, especially when I twist one piercing slightly and her words dissolve into a moan. “Oh, God!”
“I’m determined,” I correct her, increasing my pace. The head of my cock bumps against her chin with each thrust.
Her breasts are soft yet firm beneath my hands, the perfect channel for my cock. Pre-cum leaks from my tip, leaving a glistening trail across her skin. The sight of her bound and marked by me sends heat spiraling through my veins.
Suddenly, Raven bucks her hips beneath me again. But this time, as I look at her face and her hooded eyes, I don’t think she’s doing it to get me off her. No, I think my Little Thief is turned on and in desperate need of friction.
I react quickly, letting go of one of her piercings and reaching behind me, finding the heat between her thighs. “What’s this?” I croon. “You’re wet. Your body is begging for me.”
“N-no,” she stutters.
I slide two fingers along her slick folds. She’s wet—soaking—her body betraying what her words try to deny. I circle her clit with my thumb, just firm enough to make her gasp, to make her hips chase my touch.
“Matteo,” she cries, and I fucking love the way she says my name when she’s wet for me.
Her eyes flutter closed as I crook my finger, finding that spot that made her come apart beneath me that night. Just as her breathing quickens, just as her walls begin to pulse around my finger, I withdraw completely.
A frustrated sound escapes her throat—half growl, half whimper. “Bastard,” she hisses.
I smile, squeezing her breasts together more firmly, fucking them with increased vigor. My cock slides easily now, slick with sweat and pre-cum. The piercing adds friction, a sensation that sends sparks up my spine.
My pace increases, control fraying at the edges as heat pools at the base of my spine. Raven’s eyes are fixed on my face now,watching me watch her, defiance still there but tempered with something else—a dark mirror of my own hunger.
I tighten my grip on her piercings, twisting just enough to make her cry out again—the sound sharp with pain but underlaid with something deeper, something she can’t hide.
Her breasts redden beneath my punishing grip, my cock sliding between them with brutal purpose. The knowledge that I’m using her body—taking pleasure without giving it—sends a fresh wave of heat through me.
This is my power, her consequence.
“Fuck. I never knew titty-fucking could feel this good,” I rasp, feeling the precipice approaching.
I feel the tension coiling at the base of my spine, pleasure sharpening to a knife’s edge. With deliberate control, I pull back just as the first pulse hits, my cock sliding free from between her breasts.
With one hand, I direct the hot streams of cum across her face—marking her cheek, her parted lips, and the defiant arch of her eyebrow. She flinches but doesn’t turn away as I drag the head of my cock through a streak of white on her cheek, smearing it further.
“This is your mark,” I tell her.
Raven blinks up at me, some of my cum clinging to her eyelashes. A drop slides slowly down the curve of her jaw, and I watch its path with fascination. There’s something exquisite about seeing her like this—bound, used, and completely at my mercy.
Using my finger, I scoop up the cum and shove it into her mouth. “Bon appétit,” I grin.
“Fuck you,” she sneers, but the words lack their earlier fire, especially when her tongue chases my fingers and snakes around them while she sucks my fingers deep into her mouth.
“Mhmm, you wish,” I chuckle as I retrieve my fingers. Then, just because I can’t help myself, I pat the top of her head. “Good girl.”
I tuck myself back into my pants, zipping up with unhurried movements. There’s no rush now. The edge of my anger has been blunted now that I’ve taken what I wanted, but this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
After picking up the knife, I lean down and kiss each of her wrists. The leather has left red indentations on her skin, marks that will fade quickly. Unlike the lessons I’ve taught her.
I loosen the belt slowly, unwinding it from around her wrists. Her arms must be aching from being held in that position, but she gives no sign of discomfort as she brings them down to her sides.
Raven sits up, drawing the ruined edges of her shirt together with one hand while the other wipes at her face. The gesture only succeeds in smearing my jizz further across her cheek, and I feel a fresh pulse of satisfaction at the sight.
“Soooo, was there a point to all your history lessons?” she snarks. “Or was that the foreplay you needed to get yourself off?”
I finish securing my belt, then smooth down my suit jacket. Even after everything, she still has a fight left in her. I respect that. Hell, it makes my cock twitch again and I can’t stop smiling. This woman is something different altogether.
