Page 21 of From Russia With Blood

“Hey now, Indie,” Lizzy mocks, “What are you implying? I didn’t even get a chance to grab a drink from the bar. I’m not drunk. Ask your girlfriend. She definitely had something.” Katrina slumps in my arms, and the intense urge to pull Lizzy over my lap flares from deep within.

“I had one drink, and I didn’t even feel buzzed.”

Lizzy frowns, her eyes narrowing. “But you’re a lightweight. You get high off of the fumes when cooking.”

“Yeah, I know. Pretty sure he gave me a virgin and just made me think it was alcoholic.”

“As fascinating as this conversation is,” I butt in, needing to regain control of the situation. “We have matters to attend to.” Reaching back, I tap the crease of her ass, reminding her of the butt plug. An adorable blush slides across her nose and pinkens her cheeks. Once again, my cock butts in, letting me know exactly what he thinks of the situation.

“Yeah. I’ll come over later.” Katrina pauses, looking at the man for a moment as if she’s looking for something. “You’re good, right?”

“God, never better,” Lizzy squeals, gripping the Dungeon Master’s arm. A wince comes over his face, as if he regrets even playing with the newbie, but he remains silent. Interesting. Perhaps BDSM virgins aren’t his thing. Can’t blame him; I also prefer a seasoned submissive that can take everything I can give them.

“We’ll talk soon, yeah?” Katrina continues, her face scrunched up in concern.

“For sure. But maybe really, really later.” The man grins down at her with the same predatory gleam as a cat with its prey. Once again, that feeling of unease drips down my spine. I don’t like not being able to keep tabs on both women, but in reality, neither are completely my responsibility, much to my chivalrous leaning’s chagrin.

Sure, I’m obligated to keep Katrina safe, but her friend is an added headache I didn’t plan on. Growling under my breath, I tug Katrina closer, not at all liking the concern that’s flowing off her as she stares down this man. Did he do something to her? I’m pretty sure a spitfire like Katrina would have said something by now if that were the case.

Shaking her head, she slips her hand in mine and leads me to a door at the end of the hallway. The one good thing about this ship is that all doors are locked, and no one can get into a room without a proper key. Before unpacking, I tried several different ways to get in, and none of them worked. Honestly, if I were actually trying, I might have been able to get in, but no one without any sort of knowledge would be able to even pry it open.

Stepping inside, I pause and glance around at the massive room. I knew the upper deck floors were amazing, but I had no idea they’d look like this. It really didn’t make sense how her ticket could be exchanged for something this grand. The opulence alone makes me want to leave the space lest I taint it somehow.

It had to be a fluke. Perhaps because there were so many vacant rooms, they decided to be generous? But even that doesn’t really seem likely. The old adage goes, never look a gift horse in the mouth, yet, if they had, they would have seen the danger that lurked just inside the belly.

Something feels very wrong about all this, and I want nothing more than to either stay here with her or drag her down to my room. Pretty sure she’d say no to either. I don’t trust this cruise, and there’s no reason for her to trust me.

With a wide grin, she sashays away, rocking her ass from side to side with each step. I note how she avoids the door that leads onto the balcony, and irrationally, I want to take her out there and force her to come on my cock with nothing but the stars and hypnotic lull of the ocean driving our movements.

Perhaps if I allow myself to tangle with her again, I can arrange something. It’s ridiculous for her to be afraid of something so beautiful, especially when there are worse things to fear. Besides, unless we brought out a heater, it would be abysmally cold and not conducive for rough sex. I want her to be uncomfortable but not miserable.

Grabbing her arm, I draw her against me, groaning as her rocking sets her ass dragging back and forth against my cock. So much for not being able to go again. I’m fast becoming hard enough to bend her over and fuck that tight little cunt like I’ve wanted to all evening. It’s difficult, but I resist. We both need rest, and if I sleep with her, I’m not leaving.

If I wasn’t so intent on tracking Luka back down, it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but I have so much work I need to do before I can go to sleep. Catching her hips in my strong grip, I slide my hand up her back until it’s in between her shoulder blades and force her to bend forward. Unable to resist, I hump against her, dragging my cock against the ridge of the bathplug as I slide up and down between her splayed cheeks.

I need to get control of this situation quickly. It’s been well over the normal time for a date rape drug to be in her system, so I don’t have to worry about tainted water. Sliding my fingers down along her crack, I tug on the plug, just enough to move it but not enough to dislodge it.

A throaty moan, almost like a purr, rises from her body as I fuck her ass with the plug, hating how much I want my cock to be in that tight ring getting choked by her hole. I can’t, though. Even in my lustful haze, I know she’s barely loosened up enough to take the next size up, much less my cock.

As much as I want to take her anal virginity, I don’t have the time or luxury to take her that way without pain. I want her tears to coat my skin as I drive her mad with a heady mixture of pleasure with a bite of pain, but even I don’t like to damage submissives like that. I don’t get off on the agony that others might.

There’s such a fine line with me, and even now, I don’t know what will be crossing it or not. Desires I’ve never let myself even toy with come to mind, and I want nothing more than to unleash hell on her willing body. I thought I only wanted to mark her with my cum, but that’s not true. I want to brand her, cut her, scar her. I want her to look in the mirror and see me marring her skin.

Where the fuck did that come from? I let her go and take a step back. I’m a sadist, but I’ve never had my thoughts turn dark like this before. I’m not sure if it’s her, the ship, the atmosphere, or even Luka, but I do know I need to get out of this room before I do something to Katrina we will both regret.

With a firm tug, I pop the plug out, nearly mad with a feral need as her body tries desperately to hold onto it. Unable to resist, I drop the plug and shove a finger deep inside her, groaning as she grips me. But it’s not enough. I want her to be insane like me. I want her so delirious she can’t discern the difference between pleasure and pain.

Pulling back, I return with two fingers, nearly coming in my pants like a schoolboy as she stretches to accommodate me. Pink stripes crisscross her ass, and I add to the melee of her mottled skin by slapping my free hand against her flesh. A red handprint stands out for a moment before starting to fade to blend in with the other marks. I do the same on the other cheek, desperate to paint her skin with my fury.

There’s so much of this trip that’s out of my control, and here I have a willing victim to my anger, a vessel I can pour all my agony into. She’s already taken so much, but I want more. I want her sobbing at my feet, begging me to stop. I listen for the tears, needing her to cry out for me, but all I hear is lusty moans.

A growl lodges in my throat as I drive a third finger into her, a pained whine vibrating through her body. There’s a rational part in my brain that screams at me to stop. I don’t break my toys - ever - yet here I am basically raping her ass. The primal part, the part I shove down on a day-to-day basis, roars at the freedom of being unfettered.

As hard as I use her, I still listen for our safeword. Nothing. The only sounds coming from her frantic moans as she bucks against me with the same abandon as I pump into her. There’s something almost soothing about her submitting to my will. It pacifies a savage beast I didn’t know was in there.

I’ll let him have this moment, but after tonight, I’ll have to lock him back into his cage. There’s too much riding on this trip to get lost in a bloodlust I can’t control. Bending down, I shove my free hand in between her slick thighs and force them apart. She stumbles a bit from the sudden widening of her feet, causing her to pull off my fingers as she sways forward.

Not wanting to stop our momentum, I drag her over to the bed and toss her face down on top of the garish bedspread. Something so hideous could surely do with some fluids adding to the riotous colors. Katrina’s fingers scrabble at the covers, clenching them in a white-knuckled grip. My own fingers grip her ass as tightly as she clings to the rough fabrics, eliciting a howl of lustful pain.