Page 34 of Retrograde

“A punishment for what?” I snap, unnerved by the sudden change in him. “For being careful with the most dangerous piece of intel this century has seen?”

“For driving me insane every chance you get.”

He pulls out his cock, and my breath hitches when I see that he’s rock hard, beads of precum glistening on the tip. That thing is huge. It’s thick and straight, veins popping. The tip is pierced—something I’ve never seen. It looks scary. Like it would hurt even more than it usually does.

Like it will hurt more than it usually does.

Shit!

My terror clicks into a familiar place, my mind going into overdrive. But before I can bolt, Aron’s hand is back in my hair.

“Stay like this.”

“No!” I protest frantically. “Don’t touch me!” I try to pry his fingers away, but it’s no use.

“Stop moving and shut up. Do as you’re told.” He pulls on my hair harder, almost lifting me off the ground.

I screech with the sudden, blinding burst of pain. It’s unbearable. I can’t help but stop resisting.

Aron is stroking his dick, slowly and leisurely, like he’s got all day.

I’m about two seconds away from crying. I’m biting my lip, my eyes already watering.

“That’s it, Hotshot.” I’m shocked by the softer note in his tone.

I look up at him and blink. One tear rolls down my cheek, but no more follow it. Trying and failing to process all that’s happening, I go completely limp.

“Yeah, just like that,” he croons. “There’s a good fucking girl. Fucking beautiful.”

Heat floods me from head to toe, adrenaline coursing through my veins, all senses on high alert. I’m paralysed. But it isn’t just dread that settles deep in my belly. Some sick, twisted part of me wants to keep watching. Because if I forget who he is—what he is—the sight of him is something to behold. Those smouldering eyes, the mask, that bulk of bulging muscles towering over me, the well-defined ‘V’ of his lower abdomen ... and tattooed fingers wrapped around his massive cock, working it to give himself pleasure.

A thought flickers through my mind before I can chase it out. What would it feel like—if it would even fit inside of me? It would hurt. It always hurts. But I’m also imagining how full I’d feel, stretched to my limits, completely dominated ...

What is wrong with me?

Aron increases his pace, his strokes firm and regular. More precum leaks from the tip. There’s so much of it. Some of it rolls down, and as he keeps going, he spreads it across his hard length.

Something inside me clenches at the sight.

I don’t think he wants to fuck me. He just wants to degrade me. But if he were to have sex with me, all this clear, slick moisture would help it go in easier. The thought sends an inexplicable jolt through me—the thought that Aron’s body is doing something that would help my body take his brutal intrusion better.

“Have a taste if you want.” Noticing my attention, he dips forward, his cock inching closer to my mouth.

I snap my teeth together with a sharp click, shaking my head. He chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest.

“Asshole,” I mutter.

“Asshole?” he repeats after me, his voice raspy but amused. “As in, Aron, can you please fuck my asshole?”

“No!” I barely manage to force the word out before it happens.

He hits my cheek. With his cock! It doesn’t hurt, but the humiliation of being on my knees for this bastard while he’s dick-slapping me sets my blood boiling. Angry tears well up in my eyes, and I ball my fists, but before I manage to react in any way, he does it again and again.

“Stop speaking.” Smack. “Don’t make me tell you again.” Smack. “Just fucking obey.”

Clearly satisfied with my murderous glare, he goes back to getting himself off—faster, his chest heaving and hand flying over his erection. The strokes make indecent, fleshy sounds that echo. He throws his head back and groans, loudly, a little desperately, like he’s pleading for mercy. There’s something about the Necromancer losing it like this that gets my pulse racing, even before I spot my chance to strike.

While he’s not looking, I shoot my hand forward and grab his balls. They fill my whole palm, round, swollen, and tender. I close my fingers around them, the implied danger clear in my touch.