Page 100 of Venomous Desires

Another slap landed, sending me jolting against the table, my hands gripping the edge like a lifeline. “Come on, Ptichka, defy me again, and I’ll spank you until you’re the obedient little girl I know you can be.”

“I… I won’t…” My voice cracked, the threat of tears clawing at my throat.

Slap. “Won’t what, Ptichka?”

“How does it feel, Ptichka?” he purred so seductively that it sent a jolt of pure desire straight to my core despite every resilience. “Having my saliva coating your walls? Feelinghow badlyyou want to swallow me whole?”

He withdrew his finger just enough to tease the opening, and I unconsciously winced at the emptiness.

“Savor it, sweetheart,” he growled, rubbing my wetness. “Because very soon, it won’t be just a finger. It’ll be me. And soon enough, it’ll bemycum bathing your greedy, beautiful cunt, filling you up until you can’t think of anything but the taste of me.”

A violent tingle wrecked through my core, leaving me trapped in a feverish tug of war between the desperate urge to scream in frustration and the shameful, aching need to press my naked arse back against the massive, pulsing heat of his erection.

Chapter 36

The Prey

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

He wrenched three powerful orgasms out of me in less than ten minutes. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think straight. Everything was hazy, blurred,distant.

As he pulled away, I slipped from the counter, collapsing in a puddle of my own helplessness. My legs shook violently. My pulse skyrocketed, pounding in my ears like a war drum. My breath came in ragged, desperate heaves.

He stood behind me, silent. I knew without looking that he wore the same smug expression, that cold satisfaction he always had. But I couldn’t bear to face him. Not like this. Not when I was on my knees, my jeans bunched around my ankles, my underwear gone—ripped off somewhere and thrown somewhere.

The pot of water had boiled dry, steam hissing into the air, but he hadn’t bothered to turn off the stove. Why was I eventhinking about the pot? I should be concerned about myself. How could I… How could I have orgasmed at the hands of this demonic man?

Shame clawed at me, twisting inside my chest; a sickening blend of humiliation and betrayal was nothing new. Not just of my body, but of something deeper, something that felt irrevocably lost.

I stayed on the floor, trembling, trying to gather the shattered pieces of myself, though finding none. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the cold tiles beneath me.

I stiffened as he moved closer. I could feel him looming over me, like a dark shadow that made my skin creep. My heart pounded faster, drowning out any coherent thought, as if I had any to begin with, ever since this bastard tried to ruin my life for his own sick pleasure.

His hand reached down, gripping my hair roughly, forcing my head back. I winced; the pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to what I was feeling. “Look at me, Ptichka,” he whispered dangerously.

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to obey, but his grip tightened, yanking harder until I had no choice but to face him. My vision was blurred, both from the tears I refused to shed and the daze he’d left me in.

“Open your eyes,” he growled, this time his breath hot against my cheek.

Reluctantly, I did, meeting his gaze with fear and defiance. His eyes bore into mine, searching, dissecting every inch of my soul. I hated him. Hated how he made me feel. Hated how my body had betrayed me so completely.

“The next time you dare to defy me, the gentleness ends. I’ll pin you down, bend you over, and take you from behind, all while my hand digging into your ass. I’ll make sure you’re so red and swollen from my touch. Don’t make a monster of me youcan’t handle.”

“No,” I whispered. I wanted to believe it, to believe I could resist him, but the reality was far more terrifying. He had broken something inside me, something I wasn’t sure I could ever get back.

But when his hands touch me, I lose.

He released me suddenly, letting me collapse onto the floor, my body crumpling in on itself. I curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to hide, trying to protect what little dignity I had left. He’d take it. He’d take everything from me. I thought I could think of something to escape him, but I was wrong; he’d stop at nothing. Like he said, either I sleep with him willingly or he’d use force.

But it was no use. He had seen everything. He touched my deepest parts, my cordial fears that couldn’t suppress the one standing before me. And he would use them against me.

I could feel him watching me, his gaze burning into my back, but I couldn’t bring myself to move, to look at him.

I was broken. And he knew it.