by Jenika Snow
I started crying, the pleasure too much, the realization of it all too much for me to take in.
“My sweet Sofia.” Before I knew what was happening, Cameron had me in his arms, cradling me to his hard, powerful body, and holding me. He said things low, far too quietly for me to hear, but I didn’t need to know what he said.
The atmosphere had changed, and in that moment I knew I wanted to be here. I wanted the beautiful torment he delivered, gave me freely.
I didn’t push him away, didn’t try to run. Instead I let Cameron carry me to the bed, knowing I was done fighting, even if it was only myself the war had been with.
Chapter 16
I could see this wild look in Cameron’s eyes as he stared down at me, as he looked me over like I was this feast and he was eating for the last time. There was this part of me, this loud, raging part, that wanted to submit in all the ways that counted.
Do it. Accept it. Be his.
“Spread for me.” His voice was low, demon-like in its intensity, in the quality. While he stared at the valley between my thighs, he started undressing. He went for his belt, the button of his slacks. He pushed the material off, stood before me like this tattooed, scarred god that was intent on destruction.
I must not have been fast enough, because he growled low, grabbed my inner thighs, and wrenched my legs open.
“When I say spread for me, that means open fucking wide, Sofia. I want to see what I’ll be taking as mine.” He dug his fingers into my skin. “I want to see your virgin cunt, all open for me like a flower, wet, needy for my cock.” He kept his hands on me, his fingers in my flesh. I wanted his mark, those bruises that told me I was his property and he owned me.
My muscles strained from the force with which he held them apart. All he did was stare at me, look right at my pussy, appraise it, memorizing every line, every part that was primed.
“A virgin who likes her pussy lips bare…” He trailed off, one of his eyebrows lifting as if this intrigued him. Cameron moved his hands up my thighs until he framed my pussy, his big, tattooed fingers on either side of the most intimate part of me. “I’m going to tear you up, pretty girl.”
Maybe his words should have frightened me, disgusted me, or made me want to lash out. But all I did was get wetter. He made this low sound in the back of his throat, and I had no doubt he saw the product of my desire for him coating my pussy lips.
“And you want that too.” He said that almost to himself. He pulled my lips apart, and the chilled air moved along my inner folds, teasing me, making me shiver with desire. I was transfixed, frozen in place by the dark desire I saw reflected my way. And then my heart stalled when he moved back, reached down for his belt, and wrapped half of it around his hand.
Maybe he saw the fear in my eyes, the worry clouding me, because his chuckle was low and deep, taunting me. “Your fear only turns me on more.” I was about to push myself up, not sure why, not sure if I’d try and stop what was surely about to happen next, but Cameron stopped me. He brought the leather down on the bed beside me, making me still, having my heart stop. “Turn around; present your ass to me.”
“What are you going to do?” The words were low, stuttering out of me, broken and chipped.
His laugh was deep, twisted, sadistic. I knew it was obvious, but I wanted him to say it, wanted that brutality in his words to be a reality. “Oh, Sofia, I’m going to bring this belt down on your pretty peach flesh, making it red, seeing the welts of my desire on your body.” He took a step closer, the glint from his belt buckle catching the dim light. “Now, turn over and let me see your pretty ass.”
The look he gave me said I wasn’t to disobey. And I don’t want to. I moved onto my belly, looking over my shoulder, needing to see this, watch this act. He wasted no time. He moved all the way toward the end of the bed, lifted his arm up, and before I could brace myself, he was bringing the leather right across my ass.
I had no time to react, to process any of this because he kept hitting me, bringing that wickedly good leather down on my flesh, sensitizing it, making it burn, tingle. Hot tears of pleasure fell from my eyes, burning their way down my cheeks like Cameron was doing with that belt on my flesh.
All the while he stared right into my eyes, his look hot, pleasure-filled. He got off on this, hearing my gasps of pain, my swift inhalations of pleasure. He was getting excited by the fact he caused me this agony while gracing me with ecstasy.
“Spread even wider,” he ordered, and I obeyed. I had my teeth gritted so tightly I felt like they’d break. Beads of sweat started to line my skin, a visual of how strained I was, how excited he made me feel. I anticipated this, was curious about how far he’d go. Would he be gentle this first time with me? The rational part of me screamed no.
And when he brought the belt down on my ass once more, the leather stinging, maybe even breaking the skin, I cried out.
“That’s it,” he said low, almost too softly for me to hear. He slipped his hand between my legs, and a startled sound left me. “So wet. You cry, but you like this.”
And then I heard the clank of what I assumed was the belt hitting the floor. The weight of him covered my back, the hard length of his dick settling right between my folds. I was breathing so hard, the air leaving me, making the sheets humid, hot. I was hyperventilating. Could you pass out while lying down?
“Calm yourself,” he said right by my ear.
The thick, long length between his thighs, nestled right at my pussy, was intimidating.
God. I thought for a second about how he wouldn’t fit, how the pain would be too much. He’d split me in two, make me hurt, bleed in ways that had nothing to do with taking my hymen. But even though I had those thoughts, I knew he’d fit, knew he’d stretch me, make me take all of him. He’d make me feel good.
Cameron started rubbing the thick crest of his cock up and down my slit, showing me what was to come, what he offered. And when he rubbed it over my clit, eliciting a little moan from me, I felt like I’d suffocate from the pressure of it all.
“There’s no going back. Ready or not, Sofia, I’m about to devour you.” He pressed the head of his dick right at my entrance. My entire body tensed on its own, and I was unable to control it. His hold on my hips hurt so good. Then he pushed into me, making me take it, making me bite my lips until blood welled under my teeth and coated my tongue. The metallic flavor filled my mouth, a shock to my senses.
He placed both hands beside my head as he continued to make me take his dick. Sweat bloomed between my shoulder blades, and, as if it was a temptation for Cameron, he lowered his head and ran his tongue along the valley between them.
He pulled out slowly and pushed back. Over and over, tormenting me, making me weep with how much more I wanted. I clutched at the sheets, drawing them close to my face, saturating them with my tears, my honesty. There was darkness and light, literally and figuratively. In that moment I was his, the same as he was mine. That discomfort and pain slowly started to diminish. My virginity was gone, my virtue, innocence, in the hands of this man.
And then he started thrusting into me like the rope tethering him to reality had snapped. He slammed into me so forcefully my body was shoved up the bed. He gripped my waist, keeping me in place, making me the vessel for his pleasure…for my pleasure. The pain took my breath away, the ecstasy confusing the hell out of me. I was full, so damn full of his cock I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even contemplate what was happening.
I watched him over my shoulder, saw that he was focused on where we were connected, where he impaled me. His frantic thrusting slowed, and in its place was this lazy, prolonged swing of his hips against me, pushing his dick farther into me, making me take all of him.
“You want more, want me to give you so much more you can’t even breathe?” He never stopped moving in and out of me.
I felt the darkest parts of me rise, wage war with what I should want, should feel. He slid his hand up my back, moved it around to my throat, and circl
ed my neck. The pressure, the slight feeling of him cutting off my airflow was just enough that I felt dizzy, just enough that I only felt him.
He was a monster, a sadistic beast. He was the only person who could make me feel like this, who could free me.
“I want more, so much more from you.” He uttered those words low, sharp, like a blade over my skin. He applied more pressure to my neck, released it, and clenched around my throat again.
Dizzy, clear, twisted, alive.
I felt conflicting emotions. Cameron was thrusting in and out of me ferociously now, his skin slapping against mine, forcing his way into my body. Repeat.
He plowed into me, a mortar and a pestle.
“Give yourself to me, tell me that you’re mine, that you want this, want all that comes with it.” He pounded, thrusting those long, thick inches into my willing body, making me take it all.
I closed my eyes, opened myself up, and allowed myself to just absorb the sensations. I came for Cameron, feeling him stretching me beyond belief, taking me to a place I’d never even known existed. The darkness kissed my flesh, stroked its icy cold hands on my body, and held me down. Cameron pressed his hand in the center of my back, his motions hard, powerful.
“Tell me you’re mine,” Cameron said in this almost violent voice.
“I’m yours,” I cried out, the words spilling from me as if they were their own entity, wanting out, wanting to be free, as well. I was aware of Cameron slamming his cock in and out of me, but my mind was adrift, my body detached. I could only feel.
He made this low, dangerous sound, and I felt him get thicker in me.
“You’re fucking mine,” he said; then I felt him come, felt him fill me up, bathe me in his seed. He held me down, made me take it all, accept what he had to give me. The pleasure, Cameron’s desire, lasted a lifetime. And when he gave one last grunt, one final thrust, he rested his chest on my back. We were sweaty, our breathing rough, hard, and I felt my body start to shake. It was like I was coming down from this incredible high, feeling this chill seep into my very marrow.
I hadn’t fought, hadn’t tried to survive. I’d given in to Cameron, became his willing victim, and God, it felt…freeing.
Chapter 17
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, feeling out of place, distant. Cameron had only told me a couple of hours ago that he had an event to go to, one where I would go with him.
I’d be his arm candy, and even though he hadn’t said that, I’d read between the lines. I really doubted this “event” would have the legal, law-abiding type of citizens. I was afraid, even if I knew Cameron wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.
I slid my hand down my stomach, over the silky material of the dress he’d given me to wear. My time was almost up with Cameron, the two weeks going in this blur of emotions and feelings. I only had a couple of days left here, and although I should be glad, I couldn’t help this emptiness that filled me.
This hadn’t just been about keeping a deal. Cameron had taken my virginity, slept beside me, keeping me close. I wasn’t stupid enough to think he cared for me, but did so because I was his property. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t grown attached to him, needing him, wanting him.
I placed my hand right between my thighs, still sore, still remembering the way he felt in me that first night. He touched me, stroked me with his mouth and tongue, caressed every part of me. But I knew he wouldn’t keep that up, knew he had a limited time with me, only the two weeks we’d agreed to.
The sound of someone knocking on my door had me leaving the bathroom. Just as I walked out, I saw the bedroom door opening. Damien stood on the other side, his focus on me, his gaze cold, hard. “Cameron’s downstairs waiting for you.”
I nodded. He turned and left, leaving the door open. I glanced down at myself again, the cream dress form-fitting, the silk showing off my curves—what little I had, anyway. Taking a deep breath was meant to try and calm me, but it didn’t. I’d noticed that being here had my body, my mind all in disarray. I wasn’t nervous or afraid of what might happen.
I felt this way because the excitement of being with Cameron, others’ gazes on us, seeing him touch me if he wanted, simply because he could, made me anticipate it all.
Steeling myself, I straightened my shoulders and headed out of the room and down the stairs. Cameron stood by the door, his focus on his phone, his fingers moving over the keys. He was messaging someone, and I couldn’t help but feel this twinge of amusement that a man such as Cameron, big and strong, scary and dangerous, was texting.
I placed a hand on the banister, curling my fingers around it, the wood cold, smooth. I took that first step, descending, my heart in my throat. I moved toward him, and he glanced up while placing his phone in his pocket. His gaze roamed over my body, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the view as well.
He wore a dark tux, the white shirt under it stark, crisp. His tattoos could still be seen, creeping up his throat like icy fingers of dread—or power. Cameron held his hand out to me, the ink covering the back of it frightening as well as intimidating in appearance.
When I slipped my hand in his, he curled his fingers around mine, pulling me closer, his hard body coming in contact with my soft one. He said nothing to me, just cupped the back of my hair. One of the servants had done my hair, a chignon that looked haphazard but elegant, whimsical even.
And when I thought the air would leave my lungs, suffocation my last experience, he leaned down and kissed me. It wasn’t sweet, wasn’t soft. He took control, plunging his tongue into my mouth, claiming me, making me know he was the one who held the power.
And strangely enough, I was okay with that. Without me giving my consent about it, without allowing myself to be here, experiencing it, Cameron had no power over me. I had strength in this “relationship” too, maybe even more than he did. That knowledge, that realization was heady.
He broke the kiss but kept his hand on my neck. “Tonight is informal, more or less. You’ll be free to wander, but I’d prefer you stay close. Some of the guests at this event are…questionable in their endeavors.” And without another word, without waiting for me to say anything in response, he opened the door and we stepped outside. There was a stretch limo waiting, the back door already opened, Damien clearly waiting for us.
Once in the back, the door shut, the scent of leather and Cameron filling my head, I sank back against the seat to try and calm myself. The privacy divider was down, but as soon as Damien climbed into the driver’s seat, he rolled it up, blocking Cameron and me from everything else.
The car started moving, and the silence stretched between us. I stared out the tinted window, the sun already having set, so it was much too dark for me to really see anything. But looking out the window seemed better, safer, than trying not to watch Cameron.
“Look at me,” he said in a deep, baritone voice.
I turned and faced him, gazing into his dark eyes, wondering what he thought about, what he saw when he looked at me. Did he see a broken girl, or did he see any changes in me?
“Come closer,” he demanded softly. There was a dim light in the back of the limo, giving way to this dreamlike atmosphere, this almost hazy experience. I shifted on the seat, the leather and my dress causing my movements to be water-like. Before I knew what was happening, Cameron had me on his lap, his hands on my waist, his lips on mine.
I was startled, gasping, the sudden movement making me feel off balance. Cameron moved his mouth slowly yet thoroughly against mine at the same time he slipped the dress up my legs. He moved his hand over my ass, the barely there thong I wore hardly a barrier.
Cameron started rubbing ever so slowly the crease where my ass met my thighs. I was uncomfortable, because Damien was right on the other side of that thin protective shield. If he wanted to speak with Cameron, he’d only have to push it down and he’d see the act we were doing.
But in the same breath that act turned me on like no other.
He slipped his hand farther
down, right over my panty-covered pussy. And then he moved the material aside and ran his finger through my slit, eliciting a soft moan from me. And when he applied pressure to my clit, I gasped, knowing I could come like this.
“Seeing you like this, unhinged, at my mercy, does more to turn me on than anything else.” He rubbed my clit harder, a little faster. I’d come for him soon, and I didn’t want to fight it. I was so wet, maybe embarrassingly so.
The sound of his finger moving over my soaked flesh filled the back of the limo. Could Damien hear what was going on? Did he know what was happening even if he couldn’t?
I opened my mouth, the pleasure building, the silent cry right on the tip of my tongue.
“Let go,” he said, those two words more of a demand than anything else. And when he slipped a finger into me, all the while still rubbing the little bud, I finally let go. It was like a dam opening up inside of me, breaking free, washing through my entire body and claiming me.
I gasped and found myself biting down on his shoulder, knowing it had to hurt. He hissed, but a groan still followed. The ecstasy was body absorbing, taking me further away, higher up.
And when the high faded, my body relaxed, my mind calmed, I rested against Cameron’s chest. He wrapped his arms around me, the act gentle, caring even. It was so against the man he portrayed, the one who killed without remorse because he could, because he had to in order to survive.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but Cameron held me the whole way, moving his hand up and down my back, letting me relax, be calm before the storm.
I could have stayed like this forever.
Chapter 18
“We’re here,” Damien said through an intercom placed close to us. I lifted my head, surprised that the time had gone by so fast. Cameron helped me off him, and I adjusted my dress, making sure I was righted.