Page 17 of The Butcher
Alexei wrapped one hand around the base and stroked himself once, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving mine. “Beg,” he said simply, but his voice was hoarse with restraint. “Tell me you want your Russian husband to take your virginity. That you want this huge cock stuffed into that tiny little pussy.”
I was past shame, past anything but the burning need he’d built in me and the terrifying certainty that this man would kill for me, die for me, and, now, own me forever.
“Please,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Please, Alexei… I need you inside me.” The words were foreign to me. I had never said anything like that before.
Of course, I’d explored my own body, touched myself until the pleasure was starting and I forcedmyself to stop. But being with Alexei woke something in me, something that demanded I give him whatever he wanted because it… made me feel good.
He rose back up and leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other guiding the thick head of his cock to my entrance. He rubbed it up and down my slit, coating himself in my wetness, teasing my clit until I was whimpering. Then he pressed forward with just the tip, stretching me open with a slow, burning pressure that made me gasp.
“Breathe for me, princess,” he murmured, forehead pressed to mine, voice rough but strangely gentle in its obsession. “It’s going to hurt at first. But you’re going to take every inch like the good wife you are. This pussy was made for me.”
He thrust forward in one steady, unrelenting stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Pain exploded through me. It was sharp and tearing, like something inside me gave way completely. I cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as my body clenched around the massive invasion, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. It felt like too much. I was too full, like he was splitting me open, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe through it.
Alexei froze, buried deep, his entire body trembling with the effort not to move. “Fuck… you’reso tight. So perfect.” His hand stroked my hair, possessive and soothing all at once, lips brushing my temple. “That’s it. Let your body adjust. Feel how deep I am? This is where I belong now. Only me. No one else will ever know this.”
The pain eased after a long moment, melting into a deep, aching fullness that made my walls flutter around him. I wondered if the hot trickle I felt was a mixture of blood and my wetness, the proof of my virginity lost to him forever. The thought sent a dark thrill through me.
He started to move slowly, leisurely strokes at first, careful despite the way his jaw clenched like he was barely holding back. Every thrust dragged against that raw, sensitive place inside me, the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of my soaked pussy filling the room. The pain faded more with each careful glide, replaced by a heavy, building pleasure that made my hips lift to meet his.
“Mine,” he snarled against my ear, hips snapping forward a little harder now, obsession bleeding into every word. “This tight, Italian pussy is mine. This body. This blood on my cock. Everything. All of it. I’ll kill any man who even dreams of looking at you.”
His intense possessiveness should have angered me, made me feel like an object, but it had theopposite effect. It turned me on even more. He fucked me deeper, one hand sliding back to my throat, pinning me down while the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, to leave marks I knew I’d wear like a brand tomorrow.
Every thrust drove me up the bed. Every time he bottomed out, the head of his cock hit something that made stars burst behind my eyes. I came without warning, gasping his name, pussy clamping down and squeezing around his cock so tightly he cursed in Russian.
“Tak khorosho. Tak tesno.”So good. So tight.
My orgasm ripped through me, sharper because of the soreness, my body still adjusting to the stretch of him. He didn’t stop. Alexei fucked me straight through it, hips slamming against me, balls slapping against my ass, until I was shaking and sobbing beneath him.
“Ty, blyat, ideal'na, Lyuchiya.”You're fucking perfect, Lucia.“Again,” he growled, thumb finding my swollen clit, rubbing tight, filthy circles. “Come on my cock again while I fill you up. I want to feel you milk every drop.”
The second orgasm hit me like a freight train, ripping through me so hard my vision whited out and fresh tears slipped down my cheeks from theoverwhelming mix of pleasure and the lingering ache between my legs.
Alexei thrust deep one last time and came with a savage groan, flooding my pussy with hot, thick spurts of cum. I felt every pulse, every jet filling me up and pushing out from where we were connected to soak the sheets beneath us. I knew my virgin blood mixed with it… exactly like he’d promised.
He stayed inside me long after, still hard, still owning me, his hand gentle now as he brushed damp hair from my face. His eyes were dark, possessive, almost tender in the most dangerous way as he looked down at the mess we’d made.
“Better than I could have ever imagined,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to my swollen lips. “Perfection.”
My body throbbed and hummed with all the sensations coursing through me, the sticky warmth of my virginity and our combined orgasms cooling between my thighs.
I was his now. Completely. The dark thrill of it settled deep in my chest as his arms tightened around me like he’d never allow me to leave.
Chapter Ten
Lucia
Iwoke slowly, pulled from sleep by warmth that surrounded me on every side.
For a few seconds, I stayed still beneath the heavy blankets, my body thick with exhaustion and soreness in places I had never known could ache. The dull throb between my thighs reminded me immediately of what had happened the night before, of the man who had taken my virginity without hesitation and without apology.
The realization settled into my chest before my eyes were fully open. Every small movement carried the memory of him, and the lingering sensitivity deep inside my body made my breath catch as awareness returned all at once.
My pussy felt swollen and tender, still stickywith the dried mixture of his cum and my virgin blood.
Then I felt his hand. It rested low on my stomach, large and steady, the weight of it firm enough to keep me anchored against him. The slow rhythm of his breathing pressed against the back of my neck, warm and even controlled.
The steady heat of his body threaded and wrapped around mine made it clear he hadn’t left my side. He held me as though keeping me close had been his intention all along, not simply the result of sleep or habit.
