Page 26 of Empress of Ruin
“Fuck me!”I cry.
He pauses again. “That wasn’t begging.”
“Please.” The word’s close to a sob. “Please fuck me.”
He pauses. I think he might continue hitting me just for making him wait, but after a beat he nudges my legs apart.
I bury my face in the sheets when his fingers penetrate me, pushing deep. I’m embarrassingly wet. He deprived me of an orgasm yesterday, and I still haven’t quite recovered from it. I squirm, pushing back against his hand, trying to find some pleasure amidst the pain.
“Mm. Remind me how much you hate me?”
His fingers slip out of me, and a cry escapes my lips. A moment later, I feel the broad head of his cock prodding against me. I arch into it like a cat in heat, hating myself, him, and everything about the recent events in my life.
“So much.” The words come out on a moan, which turns into a yelp when Killian spanks me again. My ass is already sore enough that itreallyhurts now—I can’t take anymore.
“Say it again,” he mutters, voice strained as he pushes inside me. My body tenses and my inner walls clench at the intrusion. I might be soaking, but he’s still too big for me, and it’s been a long time since I was forced to get used to having him inside me several times a week.
“I—hate you.” A shiver wracks through me, and I wince.Fuck, he’s big.
“One more time,” he urges, sinking past my resistance. “Tell me how much you hate me before I fuck your brains out, make you come on my cock, and fill you up until you have more of my DNA inside you than yours.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The visual shouldn’t be arousing. His words should be horrifying, but instead, they make me whimper.
“Is that…” I pause, arching like a cat in heat, “what you’re—trying to achieve?”
“Knocking you up? A man can hope.”
“N-no—” He withdraws and sinks back in, briefly clearing my mind of thought.
“What was that?” he taunts.
“I hate you.” This time, it comes out as a whisper. I’m stuffed so full I feel like I’m halfway to incoherent. I can’t think, can barely breathe. I feel like moving an inch could cause me to combust.
He fists my hair, tugging on it. “Good girl. Now scream for me.”
He snaps his hips back and then thrusts forward with such harshness that Idoscream. It hurtsso much, but it also feels… unaccountablyright. Like he’s exactly where he belongs.
A therapist would have a field day with me.
Killian doesn’t hold back. He fucks in and out of me like his life depends on it, calling me degrading names that make me shudder and clench.
“My gorgeous little masochist,” he grits out, digging his fingernails into my already-reddened bottom. I twist, whining, which only makes him clutch on harder.
“Easy,” I beg. “Please—”
“No.” He’s pitiless, merciless, and absolutely ruthless. What’s worse is that it makes me wetter. The only sounds in the room are the obscene noises of flesh against flesh, my moans, and his grunts. It’s lewd. It’s overwhelming.
I’ve almost missed it.
Killian wraps a hand around the back of my neck. “Fight me,” he taunts. “If you manage to get away, I won’t fill you up with my cum. Go on, Little Bird.”
I know, rationally, that I shouldn’t engage in his twisted little game. It’s rigged; I’ll inevitably lose. Nevertheless, I try to crawl out from beneath him.
He forces me into the mattress and fucks me harder.
I try to roll over and kick him off; his speed only increases, and he releases a growl of pleasure. I buck; he subdues. I kick out; helaughsand taunts me.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he mocks. “The big, bad reporter who thought she could bring me to my knees. Pinned down and taking my cock like she was fuckingmadeto.”
