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So hard for me.
So bad for me.
Grabbing me around the waist, he hoisted me high. His fingers activated a particularly deep lash from the flogger all while stroking those maddening little coded circles on my skin.
Our own language.
A way of communicating right beneath Victor’s nose.
God, I love you. His thumbs swirled over the blue H marking my thigh.
I need you. I arched into his touch. Now.
“You’re soaking for me.” He chuckled. “Tell me again how you intend to make me pay.”
“Put me down.” I snapped my teeth. “Don’t touch me.” Squirming in my binds, I couldn’t hide my tattered moan as his hips lodged against mine and the heavenly nudge of his hot, hard cock found me.
My heart unravelled.
My blood prepared to detonate.
“Don’t touch you?” He smirked, rocking his hips between my legs, coating himself in my arousal. “But where would be the fun in that?”
His teeth found my ear and bit hard, all while his quietest whisper licked against my soul. “You own me, Ily. Body and soul.”
And then, he thrust.
Hard.
Vicious.
A spearing, pillaging penetration as he claimed me as spoils of his war.
I screamed.
I didn’t fake that.
It felt too good as our two bodies became one.
With a feral snarl, Henri’s control snapped.
His hips pistoned.
His cock slammed into me, again and again, pinning me against the wooden pole.
I gave up trying to act.
I sank into every thrust and spun into tighter knots.
Who would’ve thought I’d find freedom in captivity?
Who would’ve guessed when my Master used me like he hated me that I would feel such overwhelming love?
“I hate you!” I tried to bite his neck as he rode me harder.
“Hate me all you want,” he grunted, driving deeper, faster. “It won’t stop me from fucking you.”
Victor chuckled.
