Page 16 of From Russia With Blood

Walking back behind, I curl my fingers around the nape of her neck and lean in close, whispering into her ear. “You will not speak except to say your safeword or answer a question. You will either say, ‘Yes, Sir, or no, Sir.’ Do you understand me?”

She turns her head in my grip, her lips quirking up. “I guess, but I’m not really sure. Can you repeat that for me?”

“Minx,” I growl into her ear. Her pulse flutters against my fingers as I grind up against her. “That’s going to cost you.”

“Oh, dear. Whatever shall I do?”

Shaking my head, I pull back. The weird ache in my head is dissipating the longer I’m down here with her. Perhaps it was just paranoia from being on this ship? I slip the lubes and butt plug into the front pocket of my shirt and go back to the toy bag. I have just the thing for her wayward ass. Reaching in, I pull out my imitation barbed wire flogger and hold it up for her to inspect.

Her eyes widen as she looks up and down the length of this leather monstrosity. The falls are thin with corded wire wrapped around each strand in several sections, giving it the look of aged barbed wire. The dim lights catch the wicked tips of the corded bits, making it look truly heinous. The look on her face is worth the hefty price tag this custom piece cost.

“Want to try that again?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers, hanging her head in false contrition. Oh, but she will be sorry. Before tonight is over, she will beg for forgiveness with her tears.

“That’s a good girl. I will make you a promise. This will hurt you way more than it will ever hurt me.”

Her face scrunches up again, and I know she’s just dying to say something. With a smart mouth like hers, it must be nearly impossible to not get the last word in. A grin splits my lips as I swing the flogger around, whistling as I go around to her ass. Lifting it up, I tap her on the back of the hand with the pommel.

“Open.” She does so with no fuss. Once the hilt is in her grasp, I lean forward to slide my tongue against the shell of her ear. “No matter what, do not drop it. I know the brat in you wants to see what I’ll do, but I promise you, you will regret it. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I kneel down in between her thighs and stare up at her bare pussy. Her lips are swollen and wet with need. Poor thing looks so neglected. Rising up to my knees, I trail my tongue up her slit, stopping as I get to her clit. It’s hard and poking out of its hood, just begging me for attention, but she hasn’t earned it.

Instead, I lick all around it, chuckling against her sensitive flesh as she squirms and bucks, desperate to get the stimulation she needs. Pulling back, I smack her, startling a yelp from her pretty lips. I stand and kiss the back of her neck as I smack her again. Over and over, my fingertips collide with her pussy.

The wet smacks are a lewd soundtrack just in the background. Her cries drown out most of the sound, but I hear it. I can feel the vibrations through my hand and up my arm. My cock is hard and swollen, and I adjust once more. To her credit, she’s only made noises. Not one word has slipped through.

Such obedience should be rewarded. I slide my fingers through her lips, her arousal coating my digits. I wrap my free hand around her throat and squeeze as I drive two fingers up into her core. Her pussy clutches, tightening around me as her moan vibrates against my other hand.

Pulling out, I shove in again, thrusting hard enough to slam her into the cross. Her whimper of need skitters down my spine and settles into my balls. I hold nothing back. Over and over, I drive into her, letting her mewling wails set the pace. She likes it hard and rough, and for once, I don’t feel the need to hold back.

Releasing her throat, I use my other hand to strum against her clit. Her moans get louder and longer, her tight sheath rippling around me. Soon her body bows up as her orgasm sweeps through her. She’s such a sight to behold in the throes of passion, and I can’t wait to see her face as I’m fucking her.

* * *

Katrina

Lights spark behind my eyelids as I come harder than I ever had before. His fingers are still buried deep within me, twitching every few moments, sparking exquisite agony from deep within. My breaths come in pants as I try to get control over my world again.

My heart cramps as he draws his fingers out of me. I don’t ever want him to leave. I know that’s stupid. I know it’s just the rebound talking, but the savage way he finger fucked me leaves me wanting more. I know he can provide what I need, but would he be willing to?

A muffled whimper escapes my lips as he slips out completely, leaving me bereft. He chuckles, his warm breath caressing my skin. “Don’t worry, little minx. You’ll get more. You’ll have to earn it, but I’ll give you what you need, baby.”

I force the sob back. He can’t know what effect his words have on me. It’s not like I’m here to find my forever. It’s a trip and nothing more. The words help, but only a little. The gaping wound inside my chest starts to split open as I contemplate just how fucked I truly am. I won’t be that person and beg him to stay when he doesn’t even know me like that. Happily ever after only work in fairytales and not in real life.

My thoughts are interrupted by Master Jackson’s fingers as they slip back inside me. I clench as he rubs deep inside and bite my lip against the pleasure curling back up in my stomach. Instead of bringing me to another orgasm, he takes his fingers and goes further back, brushing against my bottom hole.

For all the playing I did before meeting Chet, that’s the one thing I never let anyone do. It was too intimate, too taboo for me. The only reason I put that I was interested in it on this trip is because I knew I’d never have to face this person again. If things got awkward, oh well. Two weeks isn’t so long to hide out in my cabin.

But as he slides his fingers back and forth, driving pleasure into me that I didn’t think possible, I begin to rethink my choices. I don’t want things to be awkward with him. I want to enjoy every moment I have and not feel like a child running away and hiding.

Our safeword is on the tip of my tongue. Do I dare say it? Do I trust him to make this good for both of us? I don’t even know him, and yet I’m debating giving him my last untouched place. Is he really so special? As I open my lips to say “glorious,” he inches his finger in, and everything goes white.

I didn’t think it would feel this good. Instead of saying our safeword, I moan loud and long, not caring who heard or what they thought of me. He goes in a little deep then pulls back out, repeating the process a few times. The last time he pulls back, he goes back in, and the stretch is more intense.

There’s a pinching and burning feeling, but it’s nothing I can’t work through. I gasp as the stretch turns into pure, molten heat. I stare straight ahead, watching the other scenes play out in front of me. It’s like my own personal porn. Everywhere I look, people are in the throes of passion.