He grabbed the hair at the back of my scalp, yanking my head back. The sudden pain was a shock, a jolt of clarity that cut through the haze.
“Say my name,” he commanded.
“Go to hell.”
He yanked harder, his grip tightening. “Say. It.”
“Roman,” I finally gasped through clenched teeth.
“That’s my girl,” he purred. He released my hair, his hand returning to my hip, his grip bruising. He started fucking me again, his thrusts harder, faster, a relentless, punishing pace that was designed to break me. “Now, tell me what you want.”
I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to cling to the last vestiges of my sanity, to the mission, to the reason I was here, but his bodywas a weapon and he knew how to use it. Each thrust was a blow to my defenses, a chipping away at the walls I’d built so carefully.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he grunted. “Tell me you want my cock.”
“Fuck you,” I gasped, but it was with weak resistance.
He spanked me again, a harsh, stinging blow that made me cry out.
“Wrong answer,” he growled. He spanked me twice more, each one a punishment for my defiance. My ass was on fire, the heat radiating through my entire body, a stinging, throbbing reminder of his dominance. “Say it, Kara.”
“No,” I sobbed, my resolve crumbling.
He spanked me again, harder and faster than ever. White-hot flashes of pain shot straight through me to my core, making my pussy clench around his thick cock.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice a low, demanding growl.
“I want you to fuck me,” I whispered in defeat. “I want your big fat cock.”
A triumphant purr rumbled in his chest. He rewarded me with a particularly hard thrust, hitting that deep, hidden spot inside me that made me see stars.
Then he leaned down, his breath brushing my ear and whispered the words that set my soul aflame.
“Good girl.”
Those two words shattered something inside me. It was a victory for him, a concession for me. My body bucked, my backarching as a second, more powerful orgasm ripped through me. I screamed into the sheets. The world narrowed to the feeling of him inside me, the sting of his hand on my ass, and the guttural sounds he made as he chased his own release.
He didn’t stop. He just kept fucking me, hard and fast, his hips a blur of motion, his cock a merciless, pounding force. He was using me, taking his pleasure, and in that moment, I let him. I was a vessel for his desire, a body to be claimed, and the thought was both terrifying and intoxicating. The mission, the needle, the files—it all dissolved into a distant, irrelevant memory. There was only this. Only him. Only the overwhelming, all-consuming ecstasy and agony that was destroying me and remaking me all at once.
I expected him to slow down. I expected him to tire.
But he didn’t.
Not even a little bit.
The rhythm stayed brutal, punishing, a raw, animalistic claiming of my body that left no room for thought, for resistance, for anything but sensation. He was a machine, a force of nature, and I was caught. Another orgasm built, a slow, creeping tide of need that was impossible to fight. My hands fisted in the sheets and my knuckles went white. My breath caught in my throat and became a series of short, ragged pants.
I was going to comeagain.
I was going to come so hard I was going to break for him.
And he knew it.
“Look at you,” he grunted, leaning over me and dripping sweat onto my cheek. “So greedy for my cock. You’re going to come again, aren’t you, Kara?”
I couldn’t answer. I could only whimper, a pathetic, pleading sound that was completely out of my character. I was lost in the riptide of his body and his will, and I didn’t know if I could make my way back to the surface.
He spanked me again, an agonizing, crashing blow that was the final straw. The pleasure crested, a tidal wave that washed over me, pulling me under into a sea of white-hot sensation. I came with a strangled cry. The world dissolved into a haze of light and color, a symphony of pure bliss that was so intense it was almost painful.
