The VIOLENT Series: The Complete Boxed Set

by Linnea May

  “How do you feel, doll?” he asks, his eyes glued onto mine.

  I try to speak, but the words escape me.

  How do I feel?

  Exposed. Humiliated. Horny. Confused.

  All of these are suitable to describe my current emotional state, but I can’t find my voice to say any of them.

  “No answer, huh?” he remarks. “Don’t know if that’s such a good idea, doll.”

  “G-g-good,” I utter, going for the dumbest reply imaginable. “I feel good, master.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me, and my heart skips a beat when he takes off his suit jacket and begins to unbutton his shirt. Finally.

  I watch with delighted excitement as he undresses in front of me, visibly enjoying it to have my gaze centered on him when he reveals his chiseled physique before my eyes. His broad chest is sculptured with muscles, as are his strong arms, which flex deliciously when he starts to unbuckle his belt. I never knew I was a visual person, but when I catch sight of his perfectly v-shaped pelvic muscles, I feel a strong desire to run my tongue along them, following their path to his cock.

  He’s still hard, according to the impressive bulge protruding noticeably when he drops his suit pants. He casually steps out of them as he approaches me, soon wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

  “My eyes are up here, doll,” he reminds me.

  I blush as I tear my eyes away from his crotch and tilt my head as good as I can to meet his gaze above me.

  He comes to a halt right in front of me, his feet only inches away from my exposed center.

  “What a naughty little doll you are,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he reciprocates my look. “This is supposed to be a punishment, but all you can think of is having my cock inside of you, isn’t it?”

  I bite my lower lip in lieu of a reply.

  “Again, no answer, huh?” he says, leaning down and supporting himself on the edge of the bed. He pushes his pelvis forward so that his bulge is positioned right in front of my face, so close that I could lick it if I stuck my tongue out.

  “Well, if you have don‘t need it to talk to me, at least make that mouth useful for something else,” he says. “Get my cock out and show me what a good girl you can be.”

  Chapter 19

  Ryan

  I’m not making it easy for her, but that’s not the point to begin with. She struggles to get a hold of the waistband of my boxers with her teeth, her cheeks brushing against my hardness again and again as she tries to set it free. The fabric of my boxers escapes her eager teeth several times before she finally manages to pull them down.

  “That took you long enough, doll,” I comment, while her entire body shakes beneath me.

  She lets out a sigh of relief when she finally manages to free my cock from its fabric cage. The way her eyes widen when she sees it is a treat in itself. Her lower lip is trembling and her gaze full of impatient lust, but when she leans forward with her lips parted, ready to get a taste of me, I pull back.

  I’m met with her disappointed eyes, glancing up at me in bewildered insecurity.

  “Did I say you could suck on it?” I ask her.

  Sweet little Laura shakes her head.

  “No, master, you didn’t,” she whispers.

  I finish removing my boxers as her curious eyes remain glued onto mine.

  “You had your fun,” I tell her. “Now it’s my turn.”

  I have no intention of letting her have what she wants just yet, even if it means denying myself something I crave just as much. Her green eyes flicker with understanding when I begin to stroke my length in front of her.

  “You just hold still, doll,” I warn her. “Stay still and wait for me to come all over your pretty face.”

  She adjusts her body, grimacing as she shifts on her sore ass. The position I put her in is anything but comfortable, but not strenuous enough to actually hurt her just yet. It charms me to see how much she’s trying to please me, even now. She pushes her breasts out as much as she can under the circumstances, and she makes sure not to slouch, even though it would be so much easier on her body if she’d rely on just the rope to keep her in place. Her nipples are pebbled, declaring her continuous arousal just as much as her dripping core.

  I continue to jerk myself off while watching her writhe in the restraints, parting her mouth ever so slightly as if to invite me in. Her lips are calling out for me, and I want nothing more than to force myself between them.

  “Fuck this,” I hiss, unable to resist the craving any longer. “Open your mouth, doll!”

  She doesn’t hesitate, and as soon as her lips part, I lean forward, supporting myself on the bed as I shove my full length inside her warm mouth, until I can feel the back of her throat pushing against my head. She tries to please me, her tongue pressed against my shaft, as I withdraw to give her a moment to breathe. When I plunge into her mouth again, I push in even further, causing her to choke and gag on my length.

  I haven’t been this hard in a long time, and I didn’t plan on coming this early in the game. I never do. I take joy in prolonging my pleasure by refusing myself to come for as long as possible. I pride myself on my ability to control even the strongest craving. Forcing myself not to come is just one of my self-imposed rules that helped me put an end to a life dictated by addiction. But no one has ever made it as hard as she has to stick to that rule.

  She’s moaning and coughing, saliva dripping down the sides of her mouth, as I ram my hard thickness against the back of her throat repeatedly. I know I won’t last long, but I’m determined to hold back as long as I can.

  When the first wave of intense pleasure rolls over me, I manage to pull out just in time, catapulting myself over the edge by stroking myself in front of her face, and she opens her mouth like a good girl. My thick, warm jets of cum pearl on her flushed skin, covering her mouth and feminine jawline before the last few drops land on her round breasts.

  Cum and saliva are mingling at the corners of her mouth, she looks up at me through teary eyes.

  And then she smiles.

  I don’t know why, but she’s fucking smiling at me.

  “If you think we’re done, doll, you’re wrong,” I tell her. “I’m still very disappointed in you, but you did good just now.”

  The smile on her face widens, and she eagerly licks my cum off of her lips, making sure that the motion doesn’t escape my eyes. That little minx.

  The vivid green of her eyes mesmerizes me even now. I can’t trust those eyes. I shouldn’t. I have a feeling she’s hiding something from me, something that she should have shared with me before agreeing to any of this. She doesn’t know about my suspicion yet, because I want to give her a chance to come clean on her own terms.

  If she ever decides to.

  “I understand that,” she whispers. “I failed you and I deserve to be properly punished.”

  Her words surprise me, but I try not to let it show. She doesn’t need to know about the impression she’s leaving on me.

  “And what am I punishing you for?” I ask her.

  “For coming when I wasn’t supposed to,” she replies. Her voice is sweet, almost cheerful, adding to my bewilderment.

  “So what do you promise never to do again?” I press. I’m going to make her say it again and again, until she understands what this is about.

  This is about more than having premature orgasms. This is about deciding to surrender her will to mine and drawing pleasure from it, not drinking up every drop of bliss as soon as it is within her reach.

  But the lesson may be over sooner than expected.

  “I promise to never give in to my desires over yours again, master,” she whispers solemnly.

  Heavy silence stretches between us, only broken by the sound of her struggling against the restraints to get comfortable. The scrunching of her leather cuffs echoes through the silent room. My eyes rest on her, and I run the risk of opening the door to thoughts that must remain shut away, never to surface.

 
Her gaze obediently lowers with mine as I kneel down in front of her, now speaking to her on eye level. I need to find a way to escape this tender intimacy evolving between us before it causes me to think and do stupid things.

  “I don’t know about you, doll,” I whisper. “But orgasms always make me hungry.

  Chapter 20

  Laura

  I share his sentiment about post-coital appetite, but I’d feel more like eating if I wasn‘t in this current predicament.

  I’m still naked, my center exposed, and my hands and knees tied to the bed frame behind me. My shoulders are beginning to hurt and my arms are getting heavier by the second. The shackles binding my wrists are cutting into my flesh, as I rely more and more on them. He cleaned himself up, but didn’t bother to clean his come from my face, and now it‘s slowly drying where it dripped down my neck.

  Unlike me, he put some clothes back on, but only a pair of dark pants, different ones than he was wearing when we first got here. I consider it a treat, though, that he leaves his ripped chest bare for me to admire.

  Since he doesn’t untie me for dinner, he has to feed me. He sits cross-legged on the floor in front of me, sharing a meal with me that is little more than a healthy snack.

  “You really like sushi, don’t you?” I dare to tease him when he brings in a tray of maki rolls from a connecting room.

  He chuckles, holding up another piece to my mouth for me to eat, a simple tuna and avocado roll. I notice he makes me lean forward every time he offers me a piece, never holding the sushi right up to my mouth. He makes me work for it. This is without a doubt the strangest meal I’ve ever eaten.

  “I find it to be very sensuous food,” he says. “But don’t worry. Good girls get fed whatever they wish for, once we call it a night.”

  “Whatever they wish for?” I ask, puzzled.

  He casts me a generous smile. “Yes, whatever you wish for, doll. But whatever it is, you’ll have to earn it.”

  He serves me another piece of sushi, and while I chew it, my eyes lazily wander around the room. I was so busy with everything that was going on that I never paid much attention to my surroundings. The room is unusually big for a bedroom. It offers plenty of space for the king-size bed, the dresser, and two glass-encased cabinets positioned next to a leather-upholstered bench. A gigantic X made out of wood is nailed to one of the walls.

  There are three doors leading out of the room, and all of them are painted in the same red color as the walls, causing them to become indistinct, especially with the lights dimmed like they are now.

  Judging by the small windows, I’d assume this room is in the basement, suggesting that we are not at the same place I met him the first time.

  Maybe this is the home he has outside the city that he mentioned previously? There’s little point in asking because he obviously doesn’t want me to know too much about my whereabouts. Why else would he demand that I was blindfolded when I was brought here?

  “How come you didn’t tell me?” he asks, tearing my thoughts back to the present.

  Our eyes meet, and I cast him a look of bewilderment.

  “Tell you what?” I ask.

  “That you’re a virgin,” he says.

  Both the expression on his face and his voice are impossible for me to read. I have no idea whether he’s angry at me or not.

  “How… how did you know?” I stutter.

  He shrugs.

  “Just a good guess. Once you have been with enough women, you can tell,” he says. “I felt it when I tried to finger you, and it was confirmed by the look on your face.”

  Next to the my evident embarrassment, his words cause a stinging sensation in my heart from knowing he has been with so many women before me, many who were experienced professionals, prettier and more skilled than me. How could I not feel inferior?

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he repeats, hooking his index finger under my chin to lift my gaze up to meet his. I hadn’t even noticed that I had lowered my eyes.

  “I was afraid,” I tell him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore if I told you.”

  His face remains neutral, no visible reaction on his handsome face. The only thing there is just the usual handsome ruggedness, topped by eyes that are almost too blue to be real.

  “That’s a valid concern,” he says. “But you still should have told me.”

  I nod. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have.”

  His eyes lay on me for a moment, a patient smile stilling my concerns.

  “How can a pretty girl like you be untouched?” he asks. “That’s what I don’t understand.”

  I huff. “I didn’t say I was untouched…”

  His eyebrows knit for a split second, but then just as quickly he forces his face to relax before his discontent becomes obvious. Still, it’s enough to coax a grin from my face. He doesn’t like the idea of me with other men either. The thought lightens my troubled heart.

  “How old are you?”

  “Why? Are you afraid I’m not legal?” I tease.

  He chuckles. “Don’t flatter yourself, doll. You don’t look like a teenager, thank God.”

  “I’m twenty-two,” I answer. “Old enough to do everything fun.”

  “And yet you have missed out on the best thing: sex.”

  I bite my lower lip, unsure how honest I can and should be with him.

  “I don’t feel like I’ve missed out,” I say hesitantly. “I waited until I met the… right person.”

  I’m torn between lowering my eyes away from his gaze and wanting to see his reaction to my honest words. But he doesn’t give me a lot to work with because his expression doesn’t change.

  “That’ very flattering, doll,” he says eventually, and I can tell by his tone that the subject is closed.

  He feeds me another sushi roll, and we eat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, the room filled with unspoken questions and answers. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know if he’s planning to punish me for not confessing upfront to being a virgin, and I don’t know if he intends to have me stay for the agreed upon time, now that he knows. And if he does want me to stay, will it influence how he’s going to treat me?

  “Is that why you haven’t had sex with me yet?” I ask. I find my eyes burrowing into his in search of answers.

  He shakes his head.

  “No. I told you this isn’t about having a quick fuck, doll. If simply fucking you was going to be enough for me, I would have done it by now and sent you home with a sore pussy dripping with my cum.”

  His filthy words echo in my head and chest, pulsating, and sending rushes of throbbing heat to my core.

  I want it to happen, but I’m afraid it’s not going to.

  “I’m enjoying this build-up to the moment as much as I’m going to enjoy fucking you,” he says, putting the empty tray aside and reaching forward to caress the side of my cheek. I worry about the dried come on my face, but he doesn’t seem to care one bit, his eyes locked on mine as his finger softly strokes along my jawline.

  “Besides, I like the anticipation, the build-up. I’m going to destroy you once I finally stretch that tight hole open with my cock, and a part of me can’t wait, but it will have to.“

  My lips part as I lean into his gentle touch, imagining what it will feel like to be taken – claimed – by him. How long will I have to wait?

  “So you are going to fuck me?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Yes, doll. I will fuck you until you don’t know your own name, and the fact that I’m the first one to ever do it won’t change my plans whatsoever,” he whispers, his piercing eyes blazing dark with lust. “You agreed to this. You wanted this. But don’t expect me to be gentle with you.”

  I swallow hard, aware of the drenching wetness pooling between my legs. His comments are making me more excited than they are scaring me.

  The way he smiles leads me to believe that he’s very much aware of the impact his words are h
aving on me.

  “Are you wet for me, doll?” he asks, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

  Another wave of heat rushes to my face, causing my cheeks to blush and my mouth to snap shut.

  “No answer, huh?” he says, shaking his head. “Doll, you’ll have to learn to reply to me, or else –”

  “Yes,” I bring forth. “Yes, master.”

  “Yes, what?”

  Ugh, he’s really making me say it?

  “I’m wet for you, master,” I admit, instinctively lowering my eyes to lessen my shame.

  Of course, that response doesn’t satisfy him.

  Chapter 21

  Laura

  “I told you to look at me, especially when you speak to me,” he says testily.

  I quickly look up at him, watching fearfully as he gets back on his feet. He stands in front of my exposed core and assesses me. He doesn‘t have to say anything for me to know that he’s pondering another punishment for me, even as I’m still struggling to overcome the pain from the last one.

  My hands are beginning to go numb, and the strain on my limbs, especially my legs, has almost become painful. I have to engage my core muscles if I want to lessen the pressure on my tied limbs, but I have very little to work with in that area. I’m going to be sore all over when we’re done here.

  My eyes follow him as he walks over to one of the glass cabinets. He opens the door and reaches inside for a small item. I can’t see what it is, but I’m relieved to know that it’s not the cane.

  I truly despise that damn cane.

  He seems pleased to find me watching him with fearful eyes when he turns around and comes back over to me.

  “You’re a very smart girl, and I know you can be obedient,” he says, going down on his knees in front of me. “But we have to work on your ability to focus.”