Page 64 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

He started moving, setting a punishing rhythm, each thrust forcing the air from my lungs. His free hand reached under me, finding my clit, and began to rub in tight, merciless circles.

"This sweet little pussy is so honest." His voice was conversational, like he wasn't currently fucking me into the mattress. "Feel how wet you are? How easy I slide in? Your body knows who it belongs to, even if your mouth won't admit it."

I bit down on the pillow, muffling my moans. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't—

"So tight," he murmured, almost reverent. "Christ, Anna. It's like you're trying to keep me inside you. Like your body's begging me not to leave." He leaned down, lips against my ear. "Has anyone ever felt this good inside you? Have you ever been this wet, this desperate, this needy for anyone else?"

My silence was an answer in itself, and he knew it. His laugh was triumphant.

"That's what I thought." He shifted angles, hitting that devastating spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes. "This perfect cunt was made for me. Wasn't it, baby? Say it."

I shook my head, even as my body betrayed me, clenching and fluttering around him.

"No? Then maybe I should stop." He stilled completely, buried deep, and I nearly sobbed. "Maybe I should pull out, leaveyou here aching and empty. Let you think about Chris instead. Would that be better?"

"Don't." The word ripped from my throat. "Don't stop."

"Then answer me." His fingers pressed harder against my clit, and I keened. "Who's better?"

"You," I gasped. "God, you!"

"And Chris?" His hips rolled, a slow, devastating grind. "Tell me about Chris, baby. Tell me the truth."

The pleasure was too much, building and building, a tidal wave about to crash over me. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel.

"There's nothing," I choked out. "Nothing happened with Chris. Nothing. I swear—"

"There she is." His voice was pure satisfaction. "There's my good girl."

He started moving again, fast and deep and exactly what I needed. His hand left my throat, both palms gripping my hips hard enough to bruise as he pulled me back onto him with every thrust.

"You feel that?" he growled. "Feel how perfectly you take me? This is what you were made for, Anna. Not him. Not anyone else. Just me."

"Yes," I sobbed. "Yes, just you."

"Such a good kitten. So honest when you're getting fucked properly." The belt cracked across my ass again, and I screamed, the pain mixing with pleasure until I couldn't tell them apart. "And this body, fuck, this tight, perfect pussy, it's mine. Isn't it?"

"Yours," I gasped. "It's yours."

"Damn right it is."

His rhythm turned erratic, his control finally slipping, and I knew he was close. His fingers found my clit again, working it frantically, and that was all it took.

I shattered.

The orgasm ripped through me like lightning, whiting out my vision, my whole body convulsing around him. I heard myself sobbing his name, over and over, until the word lost all meaning.

"Fuck, Anna—" He thrust deep one last time and held there, groaning as he came inside me, his cock pulsing, his grip on my hips almost painful.

We collapsed together, both of us gasping for air. The handcuffs rattled as I tried to move, my wrists aching.

He pulled out slowly, making me whimper at the sensitivity, then reached up to unlock the cuffs. My arms dropped limply to my sides.

"There," he murmured, pulling me against his chest. His hand rubbed gentle circles on my abraded wrists. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to kick him out the window he'd climbed through.

But mostly, I was too boneless and sated to do anything but lie there.