Beautiful Pain - J.M. Walker Page 0,27

my elbows.

“It is now.” He kissed my mouth.

“It’s like we’re not meant to be,” I said, taking his breath deep into my lungs.

“This is going to fucking happen, Marketa. I turned off my phone.” He kissed me again and moved around to the end of the bed.

“But it’s your work phone,” I reminded him.

“And they can wait. Only one patient knows how to get a hold of me if I have my phone off. If I don’t respond, he knows I am busy.” He winked and kissed my rear. Sinking his teeth into the flesh, he groaned. “Delicious.”

“I…I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

He wrapped his hand in my hair and pulled my head back. “Quiet. I’m only telling you this once. Or I will shove my dick so far down your throat, you won’t be able to speak for a week.”

My eyes widened. He wouldn’t.

“I would.”

I winced, not realizing I spoke out loud. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Last warning.” A zipper lowered sending a shiver down my spine.

My heart sped up.

When the sound of a tin foil package ripped open, a sheen of sweat covered my skin like a second layer.

“Safeword.”

“Santos,” I said, huskily.

“Good girl.” Matteo grabbed my wrists, holding them above my head. “I’m going to rip you open,” he snarled against my neck, rubbing the tip of his cock over my slick center. “Your pretty pussy is soaking.”

“Please,” I whispered, trembling beneath him.

“You don’t fucking listen.” At that point, he slammed into me.

I screamed, my body stretching to meet his size. A twinge of pain ripped through me as my core gripped him tight.

“I told you,” he slid out of me. “To keep quiet unless you have to use your safeword.” He pulled me to all fours and landed a hard swat on my ass. “Do you need to use your safeword, Marketa?”

“No.” I gasped for breath when he sank back into me. He was huge. His large body, although I saw him before, was not what I was expecting. I felt full. Overwhelmed by the size of him. My hands gripped the blankets, curling them into tight fists.

“Are you sure?” he asked, slowly sliding out of my body.

“Yes. Oh yes,” I cried.

“Good answer.” He tugged my hair, pulling me upright. “Slide your body down my cock, beautiful girl.”

Lowering onto him, I let out a sigh of pure bliss.

He wrapped his hand around my throat, hooking his arm around my middle. “Ride me. Hard.”

My body slammed against his, circling onto him like I needed him to survive. Like I needed him to live.

Holding me against him, his hips picked up speed. “Don’t come until I say.”

“But—”

“That’s it,” he snapped, pushing me onto my stomach and forced my legs apart with is knees. “I told you what I would do to you if you didn’t listen to me. I know we’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks, Marketa, but you like defying me, don’t you?”

I took in a deep breath. “No.”

“You’re lying.” His hand grazed down the side of my body. “I was going to be nice. Be a gentleman. Show you a little kink and that’s it. But you not listening to me has pissed me off.” His voice lowered. “Now I’m going to show you what it’s truly like to be fucked by a sadist.”

My throat went dry at his words. I wanted to argue. Demand he make love to me but a part of me, a part that had been destroyed and taken from me so many years before, craved the pain he could give me. It needed the domination he had over my body.

“Nothing to say, sweet girl?” His hand fisted my hair, pushing my face further into the mattress. “No demands for me, Marketa?”

I didn’t move. I waited. For him to control me. For him to delve back into my body and give it the erotic pleasure only he could.

He grunted in satisfaction, grazing his fingers down the length of my spine. “Tell me.”

“Fuck me,” I pleaded, my voice muffled by the comforter.

Matteo tapped the heavyweight of his length against my rear before pushing it between the cheeks of my ass. He teased me. Rubbing himself over my lower body. Over my rear. Back down to my pussy. His hips moved. Slow. Oh so achingly slow. “Your ass is fucking delicious,” he snarled in my ear, sliding back into my waiting heat.

I moaned, white knuckling the blankets.

He hovered over me, restraining me against his bed by his big body. Grabbing

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