Rough Exile - Page 65

The way he prowled closer didn’t make me feel safe.

“After Bron moved here, I was filled with confusion. He stripped me naked every night and beat me and said nothing about how my cock would harden. One day he found me here stroking myself. When I admitted I’d been thinking about him, he took my ass on that table as a punishment for my perversion.” His throat bobbed with emotion, his expression contemplative.

“Did he take his time?”

“Not really, but it could have been worse.” He unzipped his coat and threw it on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ve accepted my ring, so I’m going to explore what’s mine.”

“I agreed to pose as your fiancée. I haven’t agreed to anything else.”

“We shall see.”

I tried to scoot past him, but he lunged and grabbed me, then stripped me as I struggled to get away, not stopping until I was naked and cold. The cabin’s log walls blocked the wind, but that didn’t mean it was as warm as the house.

“Kneel and take me in your mouth.”

“It’s cold!”

“Shut up and do as you’re told,” he said, voice gruff.

I blinked at him, but his gaze was determined. He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down. At least his jacket was warm under my knees.

Was refusing worth making him angry? It was just a blowjob.

Slowly, I unbuckled his belt, then unfastened his pants and dragged them down, forgetting how cold I was when I freed his cock. His arousal sparked mine.

“What has you so hard?” I demanded.

“I told you to shut up.” He tangled his hand in my hair and jammed his cock between my lips, making them stretch wide around him, then held me where he wanted me as he fucked my mouth.

I pressed my thighs together, liking this far too much. What the hell was going on with him?

“Look at me,” he demanded, yanking off his T-shirt with his free hand so he could get an unimpeded view. I gazed up his hard body to the flint of his eyes, gagging, eyes watering, as he took what he wanted. It was fast and rough. I was feeling needy by the time his cock bucked in my mouth, and he sprayed the back of my throat with cum. “Good.” He pulled out, and I swallowed and wiped the cum-infused drool from my chin.

My jaw hurt, but I needed relief.

“Lie back.”

“What are you—”

He gently smacked my cheek, the warning clear in his gaze. “Do as I say, woman.”

I held my cheek, shocked. “You’ve been spending too much time with Bron. It doesn’t have to be like this between two people who care about each other.”

“Now!” he barked.

Startled, I did as I was told, not sure where he wanted me. His jacket was already losing the warmth from his body and the cold was creeping up through the thick fabric. He came down over top of me and nibbled and bit his way down my body as I gasped complaints. I was still annoyed with him, but apparently my body didn’t care.

He settled between my legs and looped his arms beneath them, then spread me open with his fingers. The warm breath that curled around my pussy made me shiver.

When he lowered his mouth to me, I dug my fingers into the lining of the jacket I lay on, not sure if he’d get offended if I grabbed his hair the way my hands ached to. He attacked me like he was hungry and impatient, and needed my orgasm to survive. It was ruthless and intense. I’d never had a lover who’d gone down on me like they’d die without my pussy. My heart fluttered, so full of adrenaline it felt like it might burst. I whimpered and writhed. A wave of heat washed through me. How had I ever thought it was cold in here?

“Fuck!” I meant to beg for mercy, but he groaned against my clit, and I lost the ability to think.

I whined and writhed beneath him, thrusting against his mouth, not caring about anything but the aching, desperate need. He was huge and controlling on top of me, and there was no stopping him. I pushed at his head with my hands, overwhelmed, but he only tugged me tighter against his mouth, his wicked tongue relentless as it tortured my clit.

The pressure in me exploded. I arched beneath him, shoulders the only part of me touching the ground as he kept going, forcing the pulsing release to go on and on, until I was begging him to stop and trying in vain to push him away.

When he finally relented, my legs shook, and I lay there drifting in a shivery haze.

“Fuck,” I said again, my voice ridiculously breathy.

“I love the way you whimper and squeal while I pleasure you.”

I flushed.

Oh jeez. Did I really make obnoxious noises?

I pushed to my feet, feeling wobbly. Cold was creeping in. When I reached for my clothes, he tugged them away.

“I’m freezing!” I protested.

“I’m not done with you, wife.” His voice was a growl.

“Can’t we go back into the house where it’s warm?” I tried to jam my foot back into my boot, but without my sock, it got stuck near the top.

“Bron is there.” Ilya caught me around the waist and pulled me away from my boots. “As my wife, you must learn obedience.”

“I’m not your wife, and obedience isn’t my thing.”

He sat on the coat and put me facedown over his lap. I tried to get up.

“Stay, woman.”

My body went hot all over. I’d dated a few dominants, but they’d only been kind of bossy. This was more like Bron speaking through Ilya—not a bear I wanted to poke.

He fumbled between us and pulled his belt free from his waist.

No way. He wouldn’t!

He put the heavy buckle in his hand and wound the belt around it.

“I’m sorry, Ilya.”

“You say that as easily as you ignored me. If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t have tried to leave after I forbade it.”

The first crack of the belt was loud but not terribly painful, and I almost laughed in relief. It stung, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t take. The next was harder, and I hissed in a breath.

Had he said how many he was going to give me? He hadn’t when he was spanking me at the hotel, and Bron wasn’t going to come by to interrupt and inadvertently save me this time.

The belt hurt far worse than his hand, stinging and making me shift and yelp. The blows came harder and faster as he became more confident.

“Please, Ilya. I’m sorry!”

It went on until I kicked, then eventually went limp, sobbing. When he stopped, my world was a red haze of pain.

He was breathing hard. My ass was on fire and throbbed like it had its own heartbeat.

Tags: Sorcha Black Crime
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