MadetoBeBroken

by Lyra Byrnes

  She shifted beneath him and something warm and wet engulfed his swollen cock, sucking at it with no particular urgency. Her mouth felt so good, he could have let her finish him off right then. But he had not fucked her yet. Even more than he wanted another shattering orgasm in her mouth, he wanted to feel her pussy clench around his cock, slick and aching with need for him.

  With regret, he pulled out of her mouth and roughly turned her facedown again, but her white back, ass and legs were impossibly tempting. He gave her buttocks a smart smack. She yelped, which pleased him as much as the sight of it jiggling from the blow. He creaked open the armoire and took out a small square packet, ripping its shell with his teeth. God, he was hard. Just thinking of watching himself slide into her, his cock swallowed up by that sweet slit over and over, her moans in his ear, drove him perilously close to the edge of coming. He rolled on the condom and was gratified to see his cock aim directly at her juicy pussy, hungry to dive in.

  “You like that, krahsniy?” he asked, giving her ass a stinging slap.

  “Mmf! Yes, I like it.”

  “Then no more for you.”

  Again she giggled. “You would give it to your little slut.”

  “You’re not my slut now,” he answered, his voice hard. Why did women have to ruin everything?

  She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide and questioning, the blankness gone.

  “What am I?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Hush, little bird. Hush.”

  He spread her knees apart and she waited, back arched, ass toward the sky. The quivering tip of his cock met her slick opening. Moving only his hips, he teased open her pussy with his huge cock head, rubbing it against her clit as she grabbed the sheet in fistfuls. Pushing inside an inch was such exquisite pleasure that he immediately withdrew, his own panting loud in his ears. She moaned with disappointment.

  “Patience, krahsniy. Did you not learn your lesson the first time?”

  He took a deep breath and slid inside her again, this time thrusting all the way in. Her sheath tightened around him, making him gasp.

  “Oh that’s so good,” she moaned. “Oh my god. Fuck me, Alexi.”

  He took her by the hair as if leading a horse by its reins and slammed into her, pulling almost all the way out to see his cock shining with her juices, them burying himself inside her again. The sight was hotter than he could have imagined, and the noises she made—a kind of desperate squealing—ramped up his satisfaction. The deep dip of her back lifted her ass high, and her globes trembled with every thrust. The urge to plunge his wet cock in the tight channel of her ass was almost unbearable. Instead he turned her over. She was flushed and panting, sweat-damp tendrils of hair clung to her face.

  He pushed her legs apart, raised himself on his arms and pounded into her again, not carefully anymore, but frantically. She yipped like a little dog, her mouth open, lips ripe. He wanted to be two men so he could fuck that lush mouth while he fucked her tight pussy. She clawed at his ass, pulling him deeper, nails digging into his flesh.

  The pulsing of his cock ebbed; he could feel his balls tingle as his seed flowed into his member. He forced himself to slow his strokes, to feel every inch of his flesh as it plunged into hers while his orgasm roiled and gathered like a thundercloud. She met each push with a delicious tightening, as if milking him. Her head thrashed from side to side and he realized from the trembling in her knees that she was about to come.

  He pulled her arms up and took her fingers in his, flattening himself against her so that his shaft would rub her clit as he thundered inside her. Once again she was pinned, but this time willingly. She began to buck uncontrollably as he shoved his hipbones against her without mercy, grinding hard into her aching pussy, until he exploded in a rush of liquid heat. Her screams stirred the heather and ruffled the grass, silencing the night sounds of the forest.

  His feet were tingling and he was weak in the knees. Alexi sat up on one elbow and looked at her, his little flushed bird, a sweaty, soiled mess, red-cheeked and panting. She had never looked so beautiful.

  “Krahsniy? Come home.”

  “I’m here. I’m here, Alexi.”

  He felt the plumpness of her lips with a fingertip. “Spasibo. Thank you.”

  “Only virgins thank someone for sex,” she said, stretching luxuriously.

  “Not for that. For sending that man away. I owe you another answer.”

  “No, Alexi. I told you, this was on me. Because I wanted to.”

  He waited. It was going to be hard to tell her, but harder still to stay in this place, the two of them butting heads over an issue that was not really the issue. Not anymore. The sooner she knew, the sooner they could both get back to their lives.

  Whether it was a life he still wanted was not something he was willing to think about.

  “Your first question was right but wrong. Ask again.”

  She pulled the sheet up in a burst of modesty, but still looked beguiling with the tops of her full breasts cresting over the white fabric. She shook her head with a bewildered look.

  “Your number two, Umarov.”

  “You did not ask my number two.”

  Her blue eyes grew wide. She sat up and looked down at him with a rather cute frown of concentration. “No, I asked who is the CRF’s second in command.”

  “I said I would answer, not that I would correct your foolishness.”

  “Okay, so who is your second in command?”

  “His name was Kaminsky.”

  *

  “I’ll take one of those.”

  They sat on the braided rug in front of the fireplace, which Alexi had stoked into brilliance. Coco wasn’t proud of herself for smirking as she showed him the pants and T-shirt she had hidden between the mattresses, but she couldn’t have him running around naked. He lit their cigarettes.

  “Your turn,” she said coldly.

  “All my life, I saw only two options—succumb to Federalist oppression or fight. But after my family was destroyed, I found a third way—my way. Let the Feds capture their big deer with the condition I work for the resolution of violence and the restoration of our homeland. They thought if I become a diplomat on the Russian side, they, there is a word—take my sharp teeth out.”

  “Defang.” The smoke tasted horrible, but she fought down a cough. “No wonder you bought a fancy suit.”

  “Was not so fancy,” he glowered. “I’m a simple man.”

  “The point is, you were the diplomat Kaminsky was on his way to meet?”

  “Yes. Shadow diplomacy—my position is not official. We were close to a resolution.”

  “Meaning you didn’t kill him. So why did you leave me that newspaper article?”

  “Because then you would know how dangerous a world you entered. Did you think our ugly friend left forever? Maybe, but he will send spies to this place to find me. The Feds want me to finish my work before the situation explodes back home.”

  “And what do you want?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a stripling anymore. Even the hope I had is dead. What I want¼ I fear will it never happen.”

  “I thought you felt no fear.”

  “For myself, no. I am ready to die. But every one of my countrymen feels the same for our future—the thing you said, shaking in boots.” He ground out the cigarette. “I am like the boy in the tales, raised among wolves. I can live like a beast, hunt and forage, scratch out a fire from nothing, hide in caves or under leaves. Maybe to you sounds primitive, but these talents grew and grew more sophisticated when I chose to defend my homeland. You have your satellites and maps and closed-circuit communication, field rations, smart new weapons. Easy to run a battle that way, easy to take over the world. I built my army from scraps you Americans would not melt down for bullets. The people, too, were less than scraps to you.”

  “Alexi, that’s not fair,” she said hotly. “Whenever there is injustice in the world—”

  “Spare me, Superman,” he
sneered. “And be careful not to lie to me. We watched it happen in Serbia, and we thought it would never happen to us, that the world would let us hack ourselves to death, piece by piece. But you did, so I became a wolf-man, General Wolf, and I hacked back.”

  His glittering eyes had turned cold. Coco felt the ground shift under her feet—the rules of the game had changed and for the first time in her life, she had no idea where her place was on the field.

  “They took away my fangs. Telling lies, talking sweet to fools, wearing suits, compromise,” the last word clattered out with a sound like an animal spitting out bones, “these are the tools they gave me.”

  “And how far did your wolf skin get you?”

  “Into the sheep’s fold,” he answered. “That is good enough for a hungry animal.”

  *

  Like the night before, Alexi made a bed on the sitting-room couch, keeping the door open to the bedroom. But long after his breathing became deep and even, Coco stared at the cottage’s ceiling beams, willing the last embers of the firelight to extinguish themselves and cast her into blessed sleep.

  When at last it blinked out, Coco remained still and tense, her eyes not moving. The events of the past few days whirled in her head, a messy tornado that resolved itself into one pattern, no matter how many times she scattered the pieces.

  Alexi had been working with the Russians in order to broker a peace treaty, but someone had pinned a murder on him and his embassy bosses would not be happy. He wasn’t sticking around the cabin to lie in the grass and fuck her. He was lying low, waiting it out, thinking every minute of what he would do next and how he’d do it.

  He was going to retaliate, and she had to stop him.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was still dark when she crept out of bed, the soles of her feet chilly against the wooden floor. Dawn would break soon—she could smell it in the air. She made a circuit of the cabin, finding every room empty, the couch as pristine as when they’d first come in. All the better, especially if it meant Alexi was using the hunting skills he’d boasted about to get them a nice fat chicken or one of the squirrels she had seen romping through the tall grass behind the cottage.

  The armoire complained with a loud creaking noise. She froze and waited—still nothing. Laid out on the unmade bed, the weapons didn’t look like much. One long bullwhip and one short lash, a leather collar with a chain that could be attached to one of the iron rings on the wall, clamps of various sizes, a small bottle of something liquid, handcuffs linked with a chain, two paddles, a scattering of plush feathers (“The hell?” she muttered), a metal bar with slightly larger cuffs on either end and two strange devices—leather straps that secured like belts with loops on the sides. She tried one around her wrist, but it was far too big for that, then measured it around her waist. Even if she could have gotten the flange in the very first hole, she’d need an eighteen-inch waist to secure it.

  “Weird,” she muttered, tossing it back on the bed. Everything was in good shape, the metal devices oiled, the leather supple, but none of the items were among the usual arsenal of interrogation, in her limited experience. And why would they be packed in with condoms? If anything, they looked more like¼

  She sat down on the bed, laughing herself sick. OSO has conscripted some kinky couple’s personal bondage den into a government safe house. Unfortunately she had even more limited experience with that world. What was she supposed to do with a feather, tickle him into not pushing the button?

  Shaking her head, she gathered up the bedroom weaponry and began to replace it. Better to use her cunning and speed, she thought, or a sturdy chair leg, to finish the job. If Alexi was planning on taking her out before he made his move, she would need all of her skills to prevent him. What she couldn’t understand was what was taking him so long. Not just the sex, surely. A man like that would have no trouble finding any number of gorgeous girls willing to take his rough commands, to worship his cock, to bend over for him—a spreader bar! That’s what that thing was, she realized, warmth flowing into her pussy. Her nipples grew hard as she turned the possibilities over in her mind—on all fours, her ankles secured by the cuffs, the stiff bar keeping her legs wide open, waiting for his cock to punish her.

  She let out a groan. Best not to think of that now.

  The armoire sported a hook or a niche for each item, but she was having trouble returning the spreader bar to the notch carved out of the wood. There was a hook in the way that had come loose and dangled over the space. She reached in and wiggled it when her hand plunged through the back of the cabinet.

  The hook must have been a key to a little hidden door. She could feel a shallow shelf, and on the shelf, something cool and square. She lifted it out carefully.

  Oh this was better than anything in the kinky closet. She clicked the On button and waited. A light flashed orange, then green. A satellite phone, and it had some juice. Now to hope it was linked to the OSO code, a secure two-way channel. She punched it in and a dim screen opened: 5500055 to 001. Eureka!

  “Target mobilizing extreme aggression. CRF No. 2 Umarov. Cardinal over.” Then, for insurance, she typed in, “Image of geo map all supply routes/land mines w/in 10 km to come. Please acknowledge.” She would get that information later.

  The next few seconds felt like hours as she waited for the screen to light up again, her heart pounding out of her chest, but she couldn’t take the chance of locking the sat phone away and have Alexi hear it ping. If he was back; she dared not check.

  Finally the screen brightened without making a sound. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Western Oops at least had that much foresight.

  “Message rcvd need geomap asap more info want $$$ worth Coco.”

  More information—he had to be kidding. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Templeton had to use her success as an opportunity to be vile and condescending. She slid the phone back on its shelf, covered the gap and shut the armoire door just as the floor behind her creaked.

  The thin cotton clothes were plastered to his body. Every ridge and muscle was visible, his hair damp.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was low and dangerous.

  “Nothing. Were you in the lake?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I told you¼” He grabbed her jaw with his free hand and lifted her head.

  “You are lying to me, krahsniy. We had a deal.”

  She tried to keep her voice from shaking, not from fear, but desire. He looked incredibly hot all wet and breathing heavily, his sharp cheekbones highlighted by the morning rays of the sun. As for fear—what was the point? It was no secret that they were still enemies and always would be.

  “I was checking the arsenal,” she said as coolly as she could. “To see if everything was in good condition in case I need to use it.”

  He let her go so fast she nearly dropped to the floor. “Are they?” he asked gruffly.

  “What?”

  “The things in the closet. The whips are oiled, the leather bends just so? Cuffs nice and tight, yeah?”

  Every nerve of her body was on guard. “Everything seems in good shape,” she said cautiously, “but there’s nothing in there I would use.”

  He opened the door and peered inside. She prayed he would not paw around and find the hidden door.

  “So you lie to me again. Two times, I think.” She said nothing. “First, ‘I am doing nothing’. Second, big lie hides behind little lie, but I will have it from you.”

  He strode to the armoire and bent into the dark space. “What is so useless here? This—oho, yes!” He tossed the short lash over his shoulder. “Feathers, paugh! Stupid. Oh this is very hot, very useful.”

  He brought out the two funny cuffs that were too big for a wrist but too small for a waist, then threw them back inside.

  She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he again emerged, the spreader bar between his hands. She must have dropped it while fussing with the hook.

  “I have eve
ry right to protect myself,” she answered hotly. “I’m here as a professional, not your fucking girlfriend or your whore!”

  “And as a professional, you made a deal, and that was to be my whore. For every lie you tell, every truth I give.”

  Coco licked her lips. It was as if he could read her mind, sense her every primal need and most baroque desire.

  “Bend over the table.”

  “No.”

  That exquisite smile bloomed slowly across his face, as if he had been given a wonderful gift. It was more terrifying than his glower, and Coco bolted for the door.

  His powerful hands caught her by the shoulders and shoved her roughly over the wooden table, face-first. She tried to raise herself, but he yanked down her panties and she fell again.

  “Let me go, you sick bastard!”

  She lifted her leg back to kick as the cuff clamped shut over one ankle. A chuckle sounded in her ear. Alexi seemed perfectly relaxed and at ease. He spread her legs and buckled on the second cuff.

  “Struggle, krahsniy. It only makes me harder.”

  He smoothed his hands over her back, her scar, the globes of her ass and tops of her thighs. At his touch, her pussy swelled and throbbed. One arm was trapped beneath her torso and she pinched her nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. She whimpered, sighing.

  “So white, like ivory. Are you fragile, little bird? Will you break if I stuff my cock in your ass?”

  “No, please don’t,” she mewled. Surely he couldn’t be serious. She had never taken a cock up her ass before, worried that it would hurt, and worse, that it would mean she was a filthy slut. Against her will, the thought excited her.

  “I think so, yes,” he said thoughtfully. “Get on the floor.”