He chuckles straight into my pussy. “That’s it, my beauty. Let me know what you like.”
For a heartless assassin, he’s pretty considerate. But there’s nothing polite about the way he presses his face into me, tongue fucking my entrance. My hips rock of their own volition, riding him. The breadth of his powerful shoulders is the only thing stopping me from squeezing his head in a vise grip with my thighs.
Is this the time to make my move? My gun is rooms away, and he can still overpower me.
Victor angles his head, nibbling the inside of my thigh while his fingers twist inside me. I’m so fucking wet.
He reaches up and squeezes my breast. “You’re thinking too much.” He rises over me, a dark god in his natural lair. The light gilds his hair. “And you need to pay attention.” He rubs the inner wall of my pussy, massaging my G-spot and tugging my orgasm closer. “To me. And only me.” He dips down to cover my breast with his mouth. The heat makes me melt into the bed. I want to fight it, to push him away, but his fingers and mouth are magic, turning the world hazy. I couldn’t fight him if I tried.
His teeth find my nipple, and I gasp at the slight pinch. My pussy clamps down on his fingers.
“So it’s a touch of pain that does it,” Victor muses, his mouth still between my breasts. “I wonder. . .” His fingers turn cruel, pinching my flesh, his thumb at my clit, and the rest of his fingers stretching my entrance. It’s almost too much, and I’m gasping, my mouth open as if that will allow my pussy to widen and accept him.
He bites my nipple again, scraping the tender bud, and it’s too much. The points of pain at my breast and core light up, the sensation combining and cascading through me. White heat fills me, shocking every nerve ending. I cum, jerking hard enough to levitate off the bed. Victor pins me, crooning praise and pressing kisses to my breasts.
I come down slowly, my ears ringing from my cries. My groin aches from the constant onslaught of orgasms.
“Very good. So beautiful.” Two of his fingers are still inside of me, but he’s eased the pressure of his thumb. He’s got the whole of me in the palm of his hand.
“My god,” I croak. “I’ve come more tonight with you than with all of my other lovers. . . combined.”
“That says less about me than it does about them.”
My laugh blooms bright in the dark. “You’re right. Oh god.” His shadow falls over me, and I cover my face with my hands. “I slept with my fiancé’s killer.”
“And enjoyed it. A better wedding night than you expected?”
Yes. I clamp my lips shut. If he wants me to admit that, he’ll have to wait a long time.
He takes my silence as a challenge and tugs me closer by my legs, angling his hips and guiding his cock to glide deep into me. He props my legs over his shoulders, and I’m grateful for my religious yoga practice as he leans over me, bending me in half. My body is his plaything, a doll, a toy to prop the way he wants. I can claim to hate it, but as the head of his cock stretches my entrance, I can’t deny the heat of arousal flooding me. I want his weight on me, the muscles heavy and honed to perfection. I want his hands on me, his fingers cruel and clever from their deadly work.
I want him. I can lie to him, but I can’t lie to myself. The brutal burn of shame only makes the pleasure more exquisite.
I shout to the ceiling as he plunges into me, filling me to the brim and sending me spiraling higher and higher. My body snaps and sizzles like an exposed wire, and my cries echo on and on into the night.
CHAPTER 5
lula
I wake slowly, the taste of cotton in my mouth and a heavy soreness in my limbs. I raise my head, blinking in the hazy gray light, and the slight movement sends twinges through my core, reminding me of the hours I spent impaled on Victor’s monster dick.
All night. He fucked me with a knife handle. And then he just plain fucked me.
Scream for me, he ordered, and I did. My throat is raw from crying out. He ate me out and fucked me over and over again. And I orgasmed.
A lot.
And I want to do it again.
Victor lies beside me, tangled in the sheets. His broad body looks no less powerful now that it’s at rest, but his face is peaceful. The boyish, white-blond hair is at odds with the sculpted perfection of his face. He’s lovely, too lovely for words, an angel fallen to earth.
I’ve seen him hunt his quarry, a killer intent on his prey. I’ve seen him amused and arrogant, smirking as he alternately taunts me or commands me to obey. It was easy to hate him then. But watching him sleep, his large form denting the bed and his pale eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks, tender feelings stir inside me. What would it be like to wake up to someone like this, morning after morning, day after day?
It’s a crazy thought. I need to harden myself. To be ready to do what I must. Victor is a pawn in this game of vengeance. A means to an end. Our time is finished.
There’s no use dreaming of what might have been.
I rise silently and pad to the bathroom to do my business. The shreds of my wedding dress lie in piles on the floor. I’ll have to borrow clothes.