The rhythm built—spank, finger, stretch, praise—each slap harder, each finger a new invasion, each gasp a new confession. “Filthy prince,” Viktor purred, voice shaking with pride. “You take it so well. Never seen anyone so hungry to be used.”
A fourth slap made me scream, body arching, hole fluttering around his fingers as he pushed a fourth one in, the stretch burning, perfect, overwhelming. “Four,” he counted, breath hot against my hole, tongue flicking, teasing, licking where his fingers split me wide.
Every thrust made me see stars, body split between pleasure and pain, humiliation and pride. I couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stop begging, moaning, grinding back onto his hand. My cock dripped, hard again, every nerve on fire.
The fifth slap left my ass stinging, raw, desperate for more. “Five,” Viktor growled, voice feral. His whole hand worked into me, five thick fingers stretching me wide, palm grinding against my rim, making me sob and beg and shake.
My body surrendered, every muscle melting under his control, every part of me begging for more, for everything. Viktor’s hand fucked me slow, deep, thumb pressing against the base of my spine, fingers curling to stroke the spot that made me see white.
“You’re so fucking open for me,” Viktor praised, breathless, pride and possession tangled in every word. “Look at you, prince—split on my hand, dripping, desperate. You love it, don’t you? Love being my filthy little thing.”
All I could do was moan, cock throbbing, hole clenching, body quaking as he worked me, filled me, owned me. His fingers twisted, spreading me wider, making me whimper, making me plead for more.
“Beg for it,” Viktor demanded, voice low, dangerous. “Tell me you want to be used. Tell me you want to be ruined.”
“Want it,” I gasped, voice broken, raw. “Want you to ruin me, wantto be used, want to be your toy, your prince, your whore. Please, Viktor. Please.”
A filthy sound of approval slipped from his lips. His fingers pulled out slowly, leaving me empty, shaking, ruined. Spit and slick dripped down my thighs, the mess obscene, perfect. His hand smeared the mess over my ass, then pressed to my mouth, fingers sticky, wet, demanding entry.
“Open,” Viktor ordered. I obeyed, tongue lapping at his fingers, sucking them deep, tasting myself, licking every inch clean. He fed them to me one at a time, pushing past my lips, fucking my mouth with his hand the way he’d just fucked my ass.
“That’s it,” Viktor growled, pride and love tangled with filth. “Take it all. Show me you love it. Show me you were made for this.”
My mouth worked over his fingers, sucking, licking, moaning as he fed me the taste of myself, the taste of us, the taste of everything we’d done. His free hand stroked my hair, gentle for a moment, thumb caressing my cheek, then gripped my jaw, holding me open, letting spit and slick drip down my chin.
His cock pressed to my ass, hard and leaking, the promise of more hanging in the air, thick and electric. “You ready for me, prince?” Viktor whispered, voice shaking, full of awe and want. “Ready to be fucked, to be bred, to be made mine all over again?”
“Please,” I begged, voice shaking, body open, soul laid bare. “Please, Viktor. Give me everything. Fill me, own me, make me yours.”
His fingers left my mouth with a wet pop, thumb smearing spit over my lips. His body pressed in close, cock sliding between my cheeks, teasing my hole, the promise of everything I wanted, everything I needed.
His cock slid between my cheeks, hot and heavy, smearing precome over my spit-slicked skin. Each thrust, just a tease, made my body arch, my ass open and clench with desperate hunger. I’d have begged for anything—pain, pleasure, everything in between—if it meant he’d finally give me what I needed.
A growl rumbled through his chest, sharp teeth scraping my shoulder. “Where’s the lube, prince? Tell me.”
My mind scrambled, drunk on sensation, but I managed to gasp out, “Nightstand. Top drawer.” My voice sounded ruined, almost foreign, shredded by want and worship.
Viktor’s weight disappeared for a second, bed shifting beneath his knees as he reached out, yanking open the drawer, the sharp sound of a bottle uncapped making my hole twitch with anticipation. His palm returned, warm and commanding, smearing a generous, slick mess over his cock, stroking himself with rough, greedy fists. Wet, obscene noises filled the room as he coated every inch, fingers working lube into my rim, pushing in, stretching me further, making me gasp, shake, beg.
“Going to ruin you,” Viktor promised, voice ragged, trembling with hunger. “Want you loose for me, dripping for me, stretched so wide you’ll feel it for days.” Two thick fingers twisted inside me, working the lube deeper, scissoring me open, thumb rubbing circles around the bruised, swollen flesh. I sobbed for it, pressing back, wanting to be broken, to be filled so completely I’d never be whole without him again.
A sharp slap cracked against my ass, the sting sending a jolt straight to my cock. “Filthy thing,” Viktor growled, pride and affection tangled in the words. “Begging for it, all open, all mine. You want to be fucked, don’t you? Want to be used, filled, bred?”
“Yes, yes, yes—” Words tumbled from my mouth, each more desperate, more honest, than the last. “Please, Viktor, fuck me, ruin me, want it so bad, want you to fuck your cum into me, make me yours, make me feel it.”
The blunt head of his cock pressed against my slick, needy hole, threatening, promising. Viktor gripped my hips, thumbs digging bruises into bone, spreading me wider, lining himself up. My body shook with anticipation, knees digging into the sheets, back arched, ass high, ready to be split open.
A low, filthy curse slipped from his lips as he started to push in, slow at first, forcing my body to give, to surrender, to open around the thick, burning stretch. Every inch dragged a guttural moan from me, pleasure and pain blurring into something transcendent.
Viktor didn’t pause once he’d breached me, hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt in one long, devastating thrust. The force knocked the air from my lungs, left me gasping, mind blank except for the stretch, the fullness, the electric ache of being finally, completely taken.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” Viktor panted, voice barely more than a growl. “So fucking tight, so fucking hungry for it. You love this, don’t you? Love getting fucked, love being filled.”
A hand cracked down on my ass, sharp and claiming. “Answer me,” he commanded, hips rolling, cock grinding deep, pressing against my sweet spot until I saw stars.
“I love it, fuck, I love it, Viktor,” I gasped, tears streaking down my face, voice shaking with need. “No one’s ever fucked me like this. No one’s ever made me feel like this. Please, harder, more—need it—need you.”
Viktor grinned, savage and wild, and began to fuck me in earnest. Each thrust slammed into me, forcing helpless sounds from my throat, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. His hand never stopped moving, alternating between stroking my cock, spanking my ass, gripping my hips, branding me with every touch.
