Page 15 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

"Ah—"

The cry tore out of me. I couldn't see anything.

He controlled my pleasure. Under his touch, my body melted into nothing.

He spat out the ice cube and pushed inside me. I felt myself stretch around him, crushed and reshaped by the sudden, ruthless thickness of him. The contrast was violent—cool remnants of melted ice still coating my entrance, then the searing heat of his cock driving through it, forcing my body to yield in a single relentless stroke. I screamed, the sound torn raw from my throat, and my hands flew up, grabbing for his arms. Muscle shifted under my fingers.

Then I remembered what he'd said before—that pets who hurt their masters got thrown away. Just a joke, delivered with that lazy, dangerous smile of his, but I'd never forgotten. My fingers softened instantly, tracing the line of his forearm instead, gentle, almost reverent, as if apology could be written into the touch.

"No matter how many times I take you," Ivan groaned, voice low and rough against my ear, "you still drive me crazy."

His weight pinned me, hips rolling in deep, punishing thrusts that left no space for resistance.

"Say it," Ivan growled against my ear, each word timed to another hard stroke that drove the air from my lungs. "Tell me how wet you are for me."

"I'm soaked," I gasped, the confession torn out of me as he slammed in again. "Dripping, fuck, I'm dripping for you—"

"Louder. And the rest." His hand closed around my throat, not tight enough to choke, just enough to remind me who held the leash. "Tell me how much you need to be used."

"I need it," I sobbed, hips jerking helplessly under him. "I need you to use me. Please, just use me!"

"And?" Another brutal thrust, grinding deep, forcing my body to take every inch. "How does it feel to be split open and owned?"

"It feels so fucking good," I cried, the filthy words spilling out exactly the way he wanted. "Being split open by you, owned by you. I love it, I love belonging to you."

The words left my mouth sweet and obedient on the surface, the perfect little pet he'd trained me to be. But inside, something darker coiled. I wanted to see him break the same way he broke me. So I clenched around him deliberately, hard, milking him with every ounce of control I still possessed.

Ivan felt it. His eyes darkened, pupils swallowing the iris until there was almost no color left, like he was taming prey thatbelonged only to him. The air between us thickened. He slowed, then stopped entirely right before I came, holding himself buried to the root while my body fluttered helplessly around him.

I whimpered, grinding against him, staring up at him with desperate eyes. My hips rolled in tiny, frantic circles, chasing the edge he'd denied me. Sweat slicked my skin. My thighs trembled.

He pulled out with a wet sound that made my empty cunt clench around nothing. Leaned back against the headboard, chest rising and falling hard. I could see him fighting his own need—the thick length of him glistening, veins standing out, the head flushed dark and leaking. His fingers brushed across my lips, slow, possessive. Before I could ask what he wanted, he pushed my head down.

"Remember what your master taught you?"

I thought about the hot water and ice. I nodded. Reached for the glass on the nightstand, plucked another ice cube, and took it into my mouth. The cold bit into my tongue, sharp and clean. Then a sip of the still-warm water from the glass. The heat flooded in right after the cold, a scorching contrast that made my eyes water. I let both settle, then leaned forward and took him into my mouth.

Ivan's eyes went black. A sound ripped out of him—half groan, half snarl—as the dual temperature of my mouth closed around his cock. Ice-cold first, then the lingering heat, swirling over the head, down the shaft. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked, tasting salt and skin, the residual chill making him twitch violently against my tongue. My hands braced on his thighs. I worked him deeper, letting the tip nudge the back of my throat, swallowing around him while the temperature play drove him toward the edge.

Right before he came, he yanked me up by the hair. The sudden loss of him left my mouth open and wet. He flipped me over with brutal efficiency, shoving me face-first into themattress, and slammed into me from behind in one savage thrust.

My face buried in the pillow, broken sounds spilling out. Every stroke dragged over the places he'd already stretched and claimed, the angle deeper now, relentless. Ivan bent over me, covering my back with his chest. He kissed my eyelids when I turned my head enough to breathe, then bit down on my neck, hard enough to leave marks that would last for days. Teeth scraped, tongue soothed, then teeth again. I felt like a vampire's victim—drained, empty, claimed down to the bone. But I didn't regret it. Not for a second.

He fucked me through the aftershocks of almost-orgasms, never quite letting me fall, building the pressure until my vision blurred. One hand slid under me to find my clit, rubbing in tight, mean circles timed to his thrusts. The other fisted in my hair, holding me exactly where he wanted me. My body was nothing but sensation—stretch, heat, the wet slap of skin, the sharp sting of his teeth, the overwhelming fullness that threatened to split me open.

"Say it," he ordered, voice wrecked. "Tell me who you belong to."

I sobbed the words into the pillow, obedient and filthy, and he rewarded me by slamming harder, deeper, until the bed frame groaned. The revenge I'd tried to take earlier was gone; there was only surrender now, raw and total. My walls fluttered around him in warning. He felt it and growled approval against my neck.

We came together. The orgasm tore through me in violent waves, milking him as he buried himself to the hilt and spilled, hot pulses flooding me while his teeth stayed locked on my skin. My scream was muffled by the pillow. His groan vibrated through my entire body. For long seconds there was nothing butthe shared pulse, the wet heat, the way our bodies locked and shook.

He stayed inside me afterward, softening slowly, still covering me with his weight. Fingers traced lazy patterns down my spine. The bite marks on my neck throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

I stayed in his arms,listening to his heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Pounding against my ear.

Heavy. Safe. Exhausted, I drifted off. The next time I opened my eyes, he was gone. A tiny head peeked over the edge of the bed, staring at me.

She had soft, flaxen curls and huge gray-brown eyes. Clear. Bright.