Page 221 of Sinister

“I don’t understand—” My words are cut off as, before I know it, his fingers are out of my hole.

I think the torture has ended, that he’s finally going to claim me again, so my body relaxes in his hold. I no longer try to pull away.

He chuckles at me. “You’re such a naughty girl, Petra. Such a naughty girl taking my fingers up her ass.”

His cock slides between my ass cheeks. He coats it in my wetness and caresses my sex with it, yet he doesn’t enter me.

The anticipation builds inside me. I thought we were done, that this was all there was to this consummation. When animals mate, once the male releases inside the female, it’s done.

Not for Sin. He’s still hard, ready for more.

Am I ready for more, too? My sex is still sore and swollen from his previous assault, and I’m not sure if I can do it again—at least not now. Yet in spite of the brief moments of pain from before, there was also an entire world of pleasure that I am looking forward to exploring more.

And perhaps, to my great surprise, I am also looking forward to the pain.

It’s such a contradiction. Pain and pleasure, two things so diametrically opposite, but together? Why do they sound so appealing?

Am I deranged for thinking that? For craving it?

Sin purrs behind me, a deep, seductive sound that makes me tremble with desire. I did not think I would want him even more after we slept together, but the more he touches me, the more I want him. Every way I can get him.

My arousal, too, grows by the moment, more wetness accumulating at my entrance.

Without being able to see what he’s doing, I can only rely on the sensation of him sliding over me, touching me.

I have no way of knowing when he’s finally going to put me out of my misery and take me again.

And then it happens. He notches the head of his cock to my opening and pushes in.

But he’s not thrusting inside my sex. It’s my . . . other hole.

I let out a startled gasp.

It hurts.

Only the tip gets past my ring of muscles before I instinctively try to get away. The pain is even worse than before.

His fist is in my hair as he keeps me in place, pulling me backward just as he pushes inside me. “Shh. Let me in, Petra. Let me in, darling.”

“I can’t. I⁠—”

“Yes, you can.”

He pulls back, his cock still at my entrance.

Glancing back, I watch as he brings his wrist to his mouth and bites his flesh off. Blood pours down in rivulets. Between my ass cheeks. On his cock.

He smirks at me, dark and arrogant.

Lathering his cock in his blood, he pushes it again in that tight hole.

My eyes widen. This time, though my muscles still clamp on him in an attempt to stop his advance, the lubrication from the blood makes it easier for him to go deeper.

Inch by inch, my body becomes accustomed to this type of claiming as he works his cock inside me until he’s fully in.

“Oh, fuck,” he curses on a ragged moan. “Fucking hell, Petra. So damn tight. You’re strangling my damn cock.”

I whimper in response, my throat sore from all the screaming.