My whole body pulsed with adrenaline and filthy euphoria.
His cock slipped free, glistening and heavy.
I gasped at the sudden emptiness, my lips swollen, chin wet, chest heaving.
Before I could catch my breath, his hand dropped between my thighs. No warning. No tease. Just two fingers finding my clit—hard, fast circles, ruthless pressure that made my hips jerk off the bed. I arched violently, a broken sound tearing out of me as the orgasm hit like a fist. My whole body locked, thighs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing while heat exploded behind my eyes. I came hard, choking on air, my mouth still warm from him.
Only when the spasms started to fade, when my limbs went loose and trembling, did he finally grab my jaw. Rough fingers tilted my face up, forcing my glazed eyes to meet his.
“You came,” he said, voice cold and steady, “becauseIletyou.”
I whimpered, lips swollen, spit and his release still on my tongue.
“I was merciful tonight,” he went on, wiping my mouth with his thumb. “But say her name again—just once more—and I’ll fuck you raw.”
His smile was cruel.
“No pleasure. No reward. Just my cock and your punishment.”
The room fell silent except for our breathing, the aftershock still humming through me—equal parts euphoria and warning.
Then he stepped back.
I watched, dazed, as he tucked his cock away, calm like he hadn’t just destroyed me. He walked to the nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and retrieved the key.
The metal clicked as he unlocked the cuffs. My wrists fell free, sore and raw, but I didn’t move.
He stood over me, expression flat.
“Now go back to your friend,” he said coolly. “And make sure she’s breathing.”
9
Shame Never Felt So Good
—Kira—
Ipushed myself to my feet, my limbs trembling and my throat raw. The cuffs had left angry red marks on my wrists. I rubbed at them absently, not sure whether the sting in my skin or the heat between my legs burned more.
He didn’t look at me again.
I left his room and entered the guest room. Valeria lay curled under the sheet, her breathing shallow but steady. I leaned over her, heart still pounding, and touched her shoulder. “Lera?” I whispered. “You okay?”
No response.
Her lips were dry. Her skin clammy. But she was breathing. Alive.
I dropped down next to her, my heart thundering. The taste of Maksym was still thick in my mouth. I wiped my lips. Shame crawled up my spine.
I’d gotten what I wanted. I’d fantasized about it. Dreamed of it. Of him.
But I hadn’t imagined it like that—choking on him, wrists bruised, slapped into submission, mouth fucked like some cheap whore. I didn’t think I’d ever beg to be touched, to be used like a thing instead of a person. And yet… the orgasm ripped through me like nothing else ever had. It eclipsed every quiet, lonely night I’d spent with my own fingers. And now, long after, my body still pulsed with the aftershock. I should’ve been ashamed. I should’ve hated it. But some traitorous part of me had made peace with it. And that terrified me.
And then there washer.
Mila.
Why did her name make himsnaplike that?
