So I take his hand, noticing how small it is compared to his. He engulfs me, closing his fingers around mine, and a slight tug leads me to the foot of the bed. Theduvet is sumptuous, silk, and I have to resist the impulse to run my hands over it as I sit.
He stands in front of me, parting my legs with one knee and positioning himself between them. I look up at him and have to remind myself to breathe as my heart picks up speed again.
He strokes my hair, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. “You’re perfect.”
Before I can thank him for the compliment, his gentle hand turns into a fist, wrapping my hair around it and pulling my head forward. I can’t even take a breath before my face is pressed against his crotch through his pants.
“You’re going to feel this cock inside you.” He moves his hips, grinding himself against my face. “In your mouth. Your cunt. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
I’m supposed to fight, so I try to pull my face away. When his grip only tightens, I yank on his wrist while trying to push him away with the other hand.
He chuckles, pulling me in harder. “Come on. You can do more than that, can’t you?” Since I can’t say anything, I beat at his hand and try like hell to turn my face away from his growing bulge.
He pulls my hair, tipping my head back. I can breathe now, and I gulp down as much air as possible while he unzips his pants with his other hand. He’s breathing heavy, looking down at me with his eyes half-lidded.
The next thing I know, he pulls me in again, and this time he guides himself into my mouth and plunges deep with one solid thrust.
Immediately, I gag when he hits the back of my throat, but he only pushes in even farther. I don’t have to remind myself to fight as I’m afraid I’ll choke to death if I don’t. I try to push him away, beating my fists against his thighs, and he chuckles darkly before pulling back and slamming himself into me again.
My nose is against his pubic bone, and I can’t breathe. He’s suffocating me, fucking my face so hard his balls slap my chin, and tears roll down my cheeks. I can barely pull in any air, and I can feel myself getting light-headed as he drives into me over and over.
I don’t have to tell myself to fight. Reflex is doing that for me, my body taking over, fighting to make sure it stays alive. It’s not working, though. He’s not letting up—if anything, he takes me harder, his thrusts sharper.
When he finally yanks my head back, I could cry with relief, even though the hand in my hair hurts like hell. I’m sweating and tearstained and gasping for air.
He smiles—nasty, cold, pleased, before pushing me back onto the bed.
Reflex takes over again, and I try to slap his hands away as he reaches under my dress. “That’s right,” he grunts. “Try to stop me. See what good it does.” He clamps his hands around my wrists and pulls my arms over my head, then pins them down with one hand while fishing under my dress again.
I wriggle back and forth, grunting and whimpering and panting for air, genuinely trying to escape this. He’s enormous—my mouth and throat hurt from taking him—and I’ve never put anything that big inside me before.
I barely hear the tearing of my panties over the blood rushing in my ears. There’s no closing my legs to him, not when he’s already wedging himself betweenmy thighs. He presses against my entrance for a split second before shoving his dick inside me.
I bite my lip against the cry of discomfort-bordering-on-pain as he stretches me beyond what I’ve felt before. “So tight.” I look up in time to see him close his eyes, his mouth an O-shape.
He lets go of my wrists and straightens up so he can take off his shirt. I almost forget I’m supposed to be fighting, too busy staring at his chiseled chest and torso, his thick arms and shoulders. His hips don’t let up, pumping, taking me hard.
And oh, my god. There’s warmth down there, in my core, at the place where our bodies are connected. Heat. I’m getting wet. This is making me wet. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I broken or something?
I only know that if this keeps going much longer, I’m going to come.
Chapter 6
Lucian
I can’t believe how perfect she is. So tight, gripping me, pulling me deeper.
Submissive but fighting at the same time. Willing to do what I want. Wide-eyed, brave, and innocent.
When I take her by the throat and squeeze, still pumping in and out, she tries to push my hand away, tries to turn her face from mine. Just the way I want her to. Whether she’s faking for my sake or not, it doesn’t matter. The effect is the same, and it’s pushing all my buttons.
It’s like she was meant for me. Built exclusively for my pleasure.
“That’s right,” I groan, holding her tighter. “Try to fight me. It’s no use. You only make me want to break you when you do that.” Her eyes widen in response, and I can’t help but laugh.
I pull out, though it’s the last thing I want to do, and for a moment, she looks relieved. Like it’s over. I let her think that for a moment, stroking myself, looking down at her. “Don’t pretend you didn’t get wet,” I whisper, and the shame that washes over her face makes me harder than ever. I have to slow my strokes when instinct would have me stroke faster, my release just over the horizon.
No way am I ending this yet. Not when there’s so much more to explore.
