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“Do you want to beg?” he asks, his voice deeper now, heavier with desire.
“Yes.” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it.
He chuckles again. “Then beg,” he orders.
“Please,” I start, my voice shaky. “Please, I need you. I want you to make me feel like I’ve never felt before. I want you to stuff me so full I can hardly breathe. I want you to take me to the edge and then push me over. I want you.”
“Now that’s what I call begging,” he says, his voice a low growl. His hand moves between my legs, his fingers teasing my clit. “And since you’ve been such a good girl...” His voice trails off as he pushes two fingers inside me, making me gasp. “I think I can oblige.”
He positions himself between my thighs, his huge, muscular body looming over me. And then I feel the thick head of his cock at my entrance. I’m giving my virginity to an unhinged priest with a past cloaked in mystery. Staring into this twisted man’s eyes, I know I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Tell me how you want it.”
I grind my teeth. “Hard and rough. Make it hurt,” I breathe.
He growls and then slams into me, tearing my virginity away with such roughness all the oxygen from my lungs escapes. The pain is insane. I can hardly think past the sensation. “You’ve unleashed a beast, baby girl. I hope you know what you’re doing.” He grabs my throat and blocks my airway, heightening the dizzying sensation already tearing through me.
It feels like my soul leaves my body as I stare into those dark, dangerous eyes full of brutal hunger.
He holds still, his jaw clenched as he breathes deeply. The pain is unbelievable, but so is the pleasure. A mix that makes no logical sense. Dante is stretching me in a way I never could have imagined.
He moves, sliding his thick cock out of me. “Oh fuck,” he groans, gazing down at his cock. “You’ve got your virgin blood all over my dick, little doe.”
I freeze slightly, wondering if that’s normal.
“The thing about beasts is we crave blood.” He fucks me rougher, gazing at me through the holes in his ski mask. “Seeing you bleeding on my dick makes me so fucking hard.”
I moan. The savage look in his eyes turns me on more. With each rough, hard stroke, the pain gives way to unbelievable pleasure. I’ve never been so turned on before.
One hand tightens around my throat, the other moves between my legs, rubbing my clit in a rough rhythm matching his brutal thrusts.
“You’re a twisted little doe, aren’t you?” His voice is a low growl, sending shivers down my spine. “Begging for pain, craving fear. You’re addicted to danger, aren’t you, baby girl?”
His hand trails down my body, fueling my desire further. “You want this as much as I do, don’t you? You need it. The pain, the fear, and the pleasure. You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasp, arching my back because the pleasure is overwhelming. “Harder.”
“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re a firestorm,” Dante growls, his words punctuating each thrust. “I never pegged you for such a dirty little minx, wanting it this rough, this hard.” He’s trying to keep his composure, but the guttural timbre of his voice betrays his deepening arousal. “You’re fucking insatiable, aren’t you?”
His fingers dig deeper into my hips, the harsh sensation blending pain and pleasure into an intoxicating cocktail. “Let’s find out how deep-rooted your desire for pain is.” He leans over to the nightstand and grabs a knife from the drawer. “See how dark and depraved my little doe is.”
I should freak out seeing a knife in the hand of the man inside me. A man I trusted with my virginity, but it heightens my excitement and the intoxicating fear I’m addicted to.
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re perfect.” He trails the sharp knife down my body, merely grazing my skin.
His thrusts are more deliberate, each one intensifying the pleasure coursing through my body.
The knife in his hand teases my skin, gliding perilously close but never breaking the surface.
The fear is intoxicating, each whispered threat and teasing touch with the knife amplifying the pleasure rocketing through me. This man is a skilled tormentor. A man supposed to be a man of God is a God himself. Considering his occupation, he knows a woman’s body in a way he never should.
I freeze when I feel him drag the blade down to the apex of my thighs. The sharp tip presses against my clit, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs. His thrusts have slowed as he gazes down at the knife. “Are you scared now, little doe?” he questions.
I swallow hard, struggling to find the words. “Yes,” I breathe.
“And turned on?” His dark eyes move to mine, and I nod. “I can tell your pussy is so fucking wet right now.” Slowly he drags the tip of the knife around my clit, making me shudder. “But what if I cut your beautiful skin? Would you still be turned on?” he questions, holding my gaze.
It’s sick that I’ve got a feeling I would be. That the pain would heighten the pleasure between us. Instead of answering, I bite my lip.
