Perfect Monster (The Oligarchs)

He tugged at my slacks, get them over my hips. I groaned as he peeled them down, stripping me naked. His hand found my ass, squeezed, then slapped hard. I gasped, looking back with wide eyes. He smirked as he pulled off the Henley, and I stared at his defined chest, his incredible abs.

He grabbed my hair and spanked me again.

“A little bitter makes the sweet that much better.”

He spanked again, and again, and soon the pain turned to something else, something confused and twisted. It felt good, sent tingling down my hands and feet, in between my legs along the raw nerves of my swollen pussy lips, and each time he pulled my hair it sent another buzz down my spine. I was his, at his mercy, my body a toy for his twisted needs, and I wanted to dive deep into that darkness, let him consume me completely.

His pants came off, followed by his boxers. I turned around and he let me take his cock in both my hands. It was thick and long and straight and so hard it was like granite in my palms. I stroked him desperately then dropped to my knees and took his tip between my legs. I licked off the salty precum then slid him into my mouth, staring up at him as I sucked nice and slow.

He pulled me back and kissed me. My saliva soaked his shaft as I stroked him hard and he growled with delight and pleasure. He lifted me up and sucked one nipple as he carried me to the couch and threw me down. I gasped, back arching, as he shoved my legs open, so lost in his need for me, so eager to take my body.

I felt wanted, so wanted, and I glowed with the pleasure of it as he pressed himself against my opening and slid deep inside.

I gasped in the pain, the shock.

He filled me, stretched me.

Took me to his balls, slid back out, thrust hard.

He bit my lip and I dug my fingers into his back.

He fucked me savagely.

It wasn’t beautiful or kind, it wasn’t gentle or soft or loving.

There were no violins playing, no chirping birds.

He was rough and raw.

His heavy musk filled my nose, a heady and intoxicating scent.

His cock took my tight pussy, my soaking pussy, over and over again. His hips ground against mine, rubbing himself against my clit as he covered me completely.

His hands pinned me down. His lips kissed my neck, bit my nipples hard enough to make me scream.

He was rough, merciless.

I came in a wild wave of confused need. He kept going, my breasts bouncing with each intense hammer blow of his cock, and he finished deep inside me moments later, joining me in total bliss, our orgasms mingling, my pussy twitching and clenching, my arms wrapped around my monster, my beast, dripping sweat, losing my mind.

When he pulled back and looked at me, I knew he wasn’t even close to finished, not yet, not tonight.

His arms wrapped around me as he nuzzled up against my back. He was so big and easily swallowed me tight against his body.

“I have to tell you something,” he whispered softly.

I almost purred from the pure comfortable pleasure of him holding me mixed with the post-orgasm haze.

“Can it wait? I’m enjoying this.”

“There’s more to enjoy soon, wife. I don’t want to keep this from you any longer.”

I sighed and chewed on my lip. I felt him still hard against my back. That man, insatiable. “Tell me then.”

“We’re meeting with your father tomorrow.

I stiffened then peeled myself away from him and stood.

He looked at me, frowning. I covered my breasts with one arm as much as I could and my scar with the other.

“Tomorrow. My dad’s here in the city?”

“He will be.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“It wasn’t a sure thing.”

“You asshole. I knew you wanted to parade me around—“

He stood. Big man, sweating, muscles flexed. I stepped back, aware of my nudity, my vulnerability.

“Go ahead and get angry. I need you nice and mad. You can fight me as much as you want, but I’m not done with you, not yet.”

I turned, tried to run—

But he grabbed my wrist, pulled me toward him, and kissed me.

I bit his tongue. He cursed, wrenched my wrist behind my back, pinned me against the couch, and spanked my ass.

I gasped in pain. My nipples buzzed. My pussy dripped.

Fuck, I wanted him to hit me again. “Harder,” I moaned. “You animal. Spank me harder.”

He spanked me rough again, and again, and again, until his fingers sank into my pussy and he fucked me with them, over and over, blissful and insane, then spanked me, alternating his palm on my skin and his fingers against my clit until my eyes rolled back and I was lost, so lost, and all his to do with whatever he pleased, the bastard, this was what he wanted, my body in his hands willing and pliant, but I was too deep to pull back and stop, too wet and writhing and dizzy with the pleasure of his hands, fingers, lips, and cock.