Vow of Deception (Deception Trilogy #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,47
My walls clench around his fingers and I cry with relief when he thrusts them in, giving me the friction I’ve needed since the first time his belt came on my ass.
I try to wiggle and squirm, but the binds keep me strapped in place with no room to move. I’m completely helpless in his hands, a marionette that he can do whatever he wishes with. And for a second, I surrender to that fate as he hits me for the last time.
“Eleven!” I scream as my orgasm powers through me at the same time as the sting. My heart lunges in my throat and I think I’m actually going to stop breathing and die in the throes of pleasure and pain.
It’s dark ecstasy, a demented bliss that plays on the edge of insanity. But every part of me craves it, falls for it without any thought.
I bite the pillow to muffle my moans, the defiance in me burning as bright as the orgasm.
Something cold and taut wraps around my throat, and I gasp when I realize it’s the belt. Adrian lifts me up using it. My back arches, but I tighten my teeth on the pillow, bringing it up with me.
His lips draw shivers down to my soul as he whispers against the shell of my ear in low words, “Let it go.”
I shake my head frantically.
“Let it the fuck go, Lia.”
I meet his vacant eyes with my daring ones and shake my head again.
Adrian yanks the pillow away and removes the belt as he flips me over. Pain explodes in my behind as it hits the mattress.
My bound hands twist before they’re settled in an easy position above my head. Now that I’m no longer biting down on the pillow, I can feel some other sounds trying to escape. I attack my lips again, uncaring about the blood that keeps oozing into my mouth.
Adrian pulls my legs apart and carves his way between them. He’s so large and strong that I feel like he’s able to rip me in half with each motion.
Every movement against the mattress causes overwhelming friction on my ass. I wish that was all. I wish the pain and resentment were all I felt right now. I wish there wasn’t a zap of pleasure shooting its way from the burning welts and straight to my pussy. The remaining tingles from my orgasm sharpen to an unbearable level.
I need something. I don’t know what, but that orgasm wasn’t enough.
Adrian undoes his pants and I hold my breath as he frees his cock. It was a magnificent sight when half-erect the other time, but now that it’s fully hard with angry veins visible at the surface, I’m scared.
But to my horror, I’m not only scared. A morbid sense of anticipation seeps into my ribcage and nestles between my bones.
Knowing that he got hard by whipping me, that he got off on causing me pain, should be degrading—blasphemous, even—but it’s not.
Adrian grips his engorged cock and fists it not so gently, as if he’s angry with it—or perhaps it’s me he’s angry with.
His muscles flex under his shirt with the movement, and his inked forearms appear ethereal, firm, and ready to inflict as much pleasure as pain.
A drop of pre-cum drips down his shaft and I bite my lip harder, unable to look away from it or from him.
My heart aches and my thighs clench.
I think I’m broken. Because right now, I’m having thoughts I shouldn’t, under any circumstances, entertain for this man.
Thoughts that will end in my ruin.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Lia?” His voice is raspy, full of unhinged darkness and lust. They seem to go hand in hand for him. Like he can’t feel any pleasure if it’s not as deranged as his screwed-up head.
I’m not like him. I tell myself that I’m normal. I’m fucking vanilla. And yet, I don’t shake my head. I know I should; I should tell him to screw off, that I never want him to fuck me.
But I don’t.
I’m still trapped by the sight of him jerking himself off. How his muscles and tattoos contract with the motion. How his eyes gleam and flicker from gray to a darker color. I want to know if his expression will stay the same while he’s inside me.
I need to know if I’ll have an effect on him like I did while he punished me, and if that effect will be more violent.