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“You weren’t the only one with a fantasy, Cricket.”
He flips me over onto my stomach, and the jolt is a reminder of my aching nipples.
Suddenly, I realize how the chair is used because I’m slanting over the chair stomach first with my ass up in the air. I jolt when another slap hits my pussy. I’m throbbing, internally begging for another brutalizing hit. I don’t even have time to let his words sink in as the rough crop rubs against my clit, and I shamelessly push against it with a moan.
Another thunderous smack hits me, and I gasp and arch in shock as he impales me so deeply with his cock. It knocks the breath out of me as he slides out and then back in. I can hardly breathe at this angle because it hits differently. Bruising even, but I don’t want him to stop. I look up briefly at the cross. This room was every bit Godly, but for a different reason and only because he was in this room.
I was certain I’d definitely have to pray after tonight.
30
DMITRI
My cum runs down Elanee’s leg. She’s tied to the cross, tortured by the pleasure I inflict. Mine. Completely mine.
The room lights up in a purple hue. It’s the third time now that one of my staff has tried to interrupt my fun through the intercom.
“Dmitri,” Elanee says with exhaustion through heavy breaths. Her mascara spots under her eyes from where tears previously streamed down her face. I palm her swollen pussy, and she winces. She’s on full display for me, the dress in her middle having once acted as a belt when I grabbed onto to it from behind. Her legs tremble in the boots, and she might be reaching her limit. I’m confident the only thing keeping her standing right now is the straps around her ankles and wrists.
I’ve blown into her three times already and continue stroking myself as I play with her again until I’m ready in a few minutes.
“Sir. Your guests grow impatient,” a voice cautiously announces. Elanee flinches under the intercom, and my jaw grinds. They’ve previously signaled me with the lights, but this is the first time they’ve dared to speak.
It’s not enough time to nearly satisfy my needs. But business calls, especially when it concerns this woman. Reluctantly, I unbuckle her wrists first. A light sweat glistens on her skin, and her nipples are red raw. My cock jerks when I look at the sapphire piercings. My color. My woman.
“It’s time to clean up, Cricket. We have guests,” I say as I wipe a warm towel down her legs and in between.
She seems confused, as expected since I just fucked her within an inch of her life, and now have to present her.
“Who are we seeing?” she asks, rubbing at the red marks around her wrists. It wouldn’t bruise, but it’d take an hour or so to go down. A male pride rolls through me, another branding. Mine.
She pulls down her dress and carefully pulls it back up over her nipples.
“I can’t believe you actually did this.” She breathes shakily as realization only settles in now, and she looks down at her new piercings in bewilderment.
With only pants on, I fill the space between us. I hook my hand around the side of her neck and rub my thumb over her jawline thoughtfully. Her lips are swollen and I trail over them sensually. This beautiful fucking mouth.
“You’re my property. Mine and mine alone. Do you understand?” I demand. I need her to say it. Need to claim every inch inside and out.
She flinches under my ruthless tone, and had I not been an asshole, I might’ve considered that she was only fleeing from one cage to the next.
“If I asked for it, would you let me go?” she asks quietly.
“No. I won’t let you go a second time,” I promise. “But I’m not him either.” I hate the idea that she might be comparing us even now. “I’ll give you everything. Even the world if you asked for it. I’d make it happen.”
“I don’t need the world, Dmitri. I only want to be in yours,” she says gently, placing her hand on my bare chest. My jaw tics, annoyed that we have to leave this place. Irked by the meeting I organized personally.
I bring my lips to hers, tasting her, devouring her, silently promising that I will give her all that I have. Even if it’s half a man. But I have to pull away as I advise. “Let me do the talking and put on your mask.”
I efficiently button my shirt back up, leaving the top two undone. I know she’s inquisitive as to why I haven’t put my own mask back on, but on the third floor, it isn’t necessary. Especially when I’m conducting business. I simply don’t want them to look at her. Not in this disheveled state, especially.
I lead her up the stairs and blue eyes glare at me. Luca Armani sits waiting, puffing on the cigars supplied and whisky offered. Although there are women dressed in bunny masks and lingerie up here to cater to any of their needs, they’re basically huddled in a corner as far as possible away from Luca. Lorenzo stands behind him as guard, looking bored.
“You’re late,” Luca says spitefully.
“Four minutes, to be precise,” I counter. “Apologies, I was preoccupied.”
“Perhaps if you focused your time on freeing your little bird instead of fucking her, we might make some more progress,” he retorts.
