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And he’s not done.
Victor plants his right hand on the mirror next to mine. He’s still holding the knife, the handle slick and shiny with my cum, and the long blade clinks against the glass.
My gun’s right under the sink. It’d take me a moment to grab it, but I could distract him and do it at any time. But he promised I’d survive tonight.
His breathing is harsh, puffing against my hair. He tugs at his clothes with his free hand, baring only the essential part of him to plunge into me. A hitch, an adjustment, and he presses his hand over mine, pinning me with his body and his gaze. The head of his cock nudges my entrance, and my pussy weeps with need. With one long thrust, he stabs his cock into me, driving me to my tiptoes. I bow over the counter, my necklace clinking on the marble, my cries echoing in the small space. I lose contact with the floor and one heel, then the other drops to the floor. Victor wraps his arm around my midriff, propping me higher. I’m taller than the average woman and no lightweight, but I feel like a rag doll, plucked off the ground, dangling in from his hold. A toy in his hands. Victor drives into me, and I take it all, my mouth open and red lips rounded. He strokes into me, a merciless pounding beat.
And I cum, bouncing and quivering on his rod. A pin in my updo comes loose, and my dark hair tumbles down, veiling my face. I toss my head back and forth, trying to shake the strands of hair away from my eyes. The sword dances under my throat.
“Yes,” Victor growls and I realize I’m whimpering No, no, no. My arousal is rising again, an inexorable wave of pleasure threatening to tow me under. My pussy clenches on his dick, trying to suck him in deeper.
I slap the mirror again and again, fighting to gain purchase and angle my hips to take more of Victor’s giant dick. It’s swollen further inside me, knocking at my cervix and so deep I go cross-eyed. Heat blooms in my head and core, and I’m cumming again, the spasms sending Victor over the edge. He pushes me up until my body drapes over the counter, and my cheek is plastered against the mirror. I focus on the knife blade shining inches from my face.
And then it’s over, and he’s cumming, his cock pulsing inside me hard enough to set off another round of mini orgasms inside me. I slump down, too wrung out to prop myself up.
He gathers me into his arms, stroking the hair out of my eyes. For a moment, he cups my cheek with his big hand.
Then he pushes me to my knees. I sink onto the thick Persian rug that covers the tile, narrowly avoiding kneeling on my fallen heels. Victor’s cock bobs in front of my face, shockingly dark compared to the paleness of the rest of him, huge and hard and slick with my own essence. I open my mouth, but he steps back and sets the knife handle at my lips.
“Lick,” he orders, gathering my hair in his hands. Arousal surges through me, thundering in my ears, and I lean forward and extend my tongue. I lick up the smooth handle, tasting myself. When he pushes, forcing my head back, I relax my throat and allow him to penetrate me with his knife all the way to the heel.
My eyes flare with slight panic, and his own hooded ones grow heavy in response. Sadist. I ignore the needy throb in my already well-used pussy and dig my fingers into the folds of his pant legs, my senses swimming with him. He’s fucking my mouth with the knife he used to kill David only hours ago. And I’m doing my best to choke it down.
Finally, he releases me, sliding the knife out of my mouth. He swipes a thumb across my lower lip, and I remember I’m wearing my favorite color lipstick. Dark red, the color of spilled blood. Too bold for regular use and too bold for a bride. My own tiny act of defiance.
Victor murmurs something in his native tongue, soft and crooning like a lullaby. “Good girl.” He slides a hand up my cheek, and I fight not to press into it, to accept his approval. I need to remember what I’m doing here.
Seduce him. Survive.
Never surrender.
His cock is inches away from my face. Makes my insides cramp just thinking about it invading me. I’m glad I’m on birth control.
If I plan to seduce him, I better start now. I reach for his cock, and he tugs me back by my hair. “No. Not here. I’m not through with you.”
He hauls me up by my arms and tosses me over his shoulder. My dark hair tumbles over my face, my eyes flashing to my wary reflection before he flips the light and carries me from the room.
CHAPTER 4
victor
My prize doesn’t struggle as I carry her to where I want her. My bedroom. I lay her on the bed and fix her with a pointed finger. “Stay.”
She glares at me, and I pause, waiting for her rebellion with my head tilted to the side. “Unless you want me to tie you to the bed?”
She looks like she might argue but stops when I raise a hand to undo my cufflinks and toss them on a dresser. I start on my jacket and dress shirt buttons, and she leans back, drinking in each new inch of my exposed chest. I turn my head to hide a grin. I thought she might like a show.
I fucked her without undressing, too impatient to be balls deep in her. There’s something about her that brings out the beast in me. I’ve never been so swollen with need, so out of control.
There’s no need to rush. She is mine as long as I wish it. I’ve never wanted a woman past one night, but if that’s not long enough to quench my desire for her, then there’s no reason I can’t keep her longer. Indefinitely.
Forever.
I blink away the fantasy of her lying in my bed, hair unfurled on the pillow, blinking in the morning light. I don’t need to imagine her when she’s right here, naked on my bed, laid out like a sacrifice.
“Spread your legs,” I command, propping a foot on the stool at the base of my bed to untie my shoes. “Show me that pretty pussy.”
She deliberates with her chin tipped down. I remove my shoes and socks before it’s clear she’s not going to obey.
