A single glance at her legs told me everything. The way she squeezed her thighs together. The tension along her spine as she shifted on the bed.
I eased into her mouth, pressing her breasts together and gripping them hard enough to make her moan around me. The tip of my cock teased the back of her throat, nudging back and forth against the barrier.
“Your purpose is to serve me,” I growled, and thrust straight down her throat—driving past the resistance and embedding myself there.
Her fingers curled around my thighs.
Not to push me away. To hold me deeper.
I flicked my thumbs over her nipples until they hardened. Her hips shifted on the bed. I began to move—pulling and pushing my cock down her throat, each stroke burying me deeper, her drool beginning to drip down my balls and back onto her face.
“Blood is part of my world,” I said, punctuating the point with several sharp thrusts.“It won’t keep me away from your pussy.”
Her desperate hands crept up and gripped my ass, encouraging me to fuck her harder. The wet sounds of my balls slapping her face and the muffled grunts as my cock violated her throat were like music to my ears.
But I wasn’t done yet.
Chapter 20
Iskra
The more my throat ached, the more it soothed some broken part of me. The part that had been forced to accept its position in this world. I kept my mouth open as wide as I could, giving him full access. He slammed his hips forward and my pussy pulsed. My nails dug into his muscles as I clung to him.
My eyes closed. My spit dribbled down the length of my face.
He released my breasts and I moaned in protest.
I kept swallowing around him as he held himself in my throat. Then his fingers edged beneath my waistband and my hips rose before I could stop them, my thighs falling open of their own accord.
I was past caring.
My lips gripped the base of his cock until he groaned.
“Da. Good littlesuka,” he said, and his fingers slipped beneath my underwear.
Wet and slippery, they moved over my pussy—circling my clit before stroking the full length of my opening. As though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it.
He began to rock his hips. The pace was almost gentle, which was its own kind of cruelty. My hips followed the rhythm anyway, chasing the release my body had decided it was going to have regardless of what my pride thought about it.
“Now do you see?” he hummed.“It changes nothing.”
He pulled his hips back and uncovered my face. I lay gasping, my face soaked, trying to blink my eyes open. Hands gripped my shoulders and sat me upright. He pushed me onto my hands and knees before peeling my pyjama bottoms down to my thighs. Hands clamped on my hips and dragged me to the edge of the mattress.
“You’ll take my come where it always goes,” he murmured, pushing my underwear down.
I laid my cheek on the bed and felt him tug on the string of my tampon. My eyes closed as I heard him toss it in the bin. His hand pressed flat on my back. My legs were trapped beneath me. I curled my toes in anticipation.
“I want my cock nice and bloody,” he chuckled.
I smiled despite myself.
He had managed to degrade and elevate me at the same time.
The thick head moved into position. My hands gripped the bedding as he surged forward. I cried out at the feel of him filling me—the stretch of it, that certain fullness that my body had learned to anticipate and was apparently incapable of being indifferent to. My hands ached from tearing at the soft cotton beneath me. The position left me unable to move, but he didn’t tease me. He continued unhurried until I felt his pelvis meet my bare cheeks.
“Vadim,” I cried out, uncertain of what I was asking for but certain I didn’t want him to stop.
If he stopped I would have to think.
