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It should hurt, but it doesn’t. It only makes me cry out. “Yes, sir! Please!”
“Please what?” He drags a finger through my dripping slit just to torment me. “Be my good girl and use your words.”
I can’t. I want to but I just can’t. Not even here, not even now. “There! Right there. Please.”
And again, he knows what I want—what Ineed—as if he’s reading my mind.
And when his palm connects with my pussy, the stinging heat spreads from my clit to my ass and makes me throw my headback. I’m gasping, I’m sobbing, I’m babbling for him to give me more.
His hand threads in my hair again to hold me up. Demyen wants them all to see my face when he shoves himself deep inside me. One thrust—one hard, solid thrust that drives the air from my lungs and makes my eyes roll back in my head. But then, instead of just plowing ahead like I expect him to, he grinds it in just so I can feel him stretch me open in ways no man has ever made me feel before.
“Is that what you need, baby?” His voice is suddenly in my ear. I feel his chest press along my back as he leans over me and continues grinding his huge cock into me. “Does this feel better?”
All I can do is whine and nod and fuck myself on him since he won’t do it for me.
“So fucking eager. So fucking beautiful.”
He releases my hair and wraps his arm around my chest, returning his fingers to my tangled waves in a half-caress, half-grip on the side of my head. The way he’s holding me feels so fucking possessive… and intimate.
It makes me ripple and squeeze around his cock, which finally—finally—makes him thrust inside me.
“Open your eyes, baby.” Demyen presses a firm kiss to my brow, then to the outer corner of my eye as he slowly works his cock in and out… in and out… Slowly. Deeply. “Open your eyes.”
So I do as he says. I open my eyes and I look straight ahead.
Martin is sitting there, right there at the table. Bound, gagged, and forced to watch Demyen fuck the ever-living shit out of me.
Demyen holds me up more, just enough for everyone to see the way my breasts bounce and sway with every hard thrust inside my body. I grunt whenever he bottoms out—and that’s almost every single time. I can hear the loud clap of his thighs against mine, a steady rhythm of a man fucking his woman for the world to see.
No, not fucking.
Claiming.
Marking.
Breeding.
His other hand spans over the soft swell of my empty womb and presses. He kneads me there, firm but loving, and it makes that sweet spot he keeps hitting inside me radiate pleasure with an intensity that makes my toes curl.
“Who does this belong to?”
I stare Martin in the eyes as I answer Demyen. “You.”
Demyen rocks into me a bit faster. “That’s fucking right. Tell him.” He follows my glare to the excuse of a man now writhing pitifully in his ropes. “Tell him who fucks you better than he ever could.”
“You do!” I sob with pleasure, feeling that hot pressure quickly build deep inside me. “Demyen! Fuck! You do!”
“Iwhat, baby?”
“You own me.” My whole body trembles from head to toe as he holds me in place, not letting me move save for the unavoidable rocking of our bodies together. “You fuck me so good. You fuck me better than him. Better than anyone.”
Demyen growls his approval and suddenly stills. The world spins for a dizzyingly swift moment, and I’m suddenly sitting on his lap as he sits on his chair.
It’s more throne than chair now. Demyen is the king of the underworld, and I’m his queen impaled on his cock as he shows me off to everyone who ever dares challenge him.
Who ever dares challengeus.
His hand slips around my throat, but not to strangle me. Only to pull me back so his bare chest, damp with perspiration and heaving with his own gasps, is flush with my spine.
