Page 118 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

“Open.” He pressed the flat of the blade to her mouth. She parted her lips, high on dopamine and serotonin. “Good girl. Now lick. Show me your tongue.”

She traced the blunt end of the knife, tasting herself and the metallic tang of the blade. The saccharine flavor of sin. Adrian’s thumb covered the sharp edge, and she indulged in tasting him, too, flicking the rough skin of his finger as she hummed in satisfaction.

“Greedy girl,” he scolded without pulling away, steel cock twitching inside his jeans. “Nibbling on my hand with that sweet mouth. If you needed more, you should’ve asked.” He pulled away and slipped a thick finger in her pussy, pushing into the slick, swollen channel and curing against the spot that made her see stars. He groaned as she squirmed. “Fuck. It’s like you’re trying to swallow me up.”

She would if he wanted.

His finger continued to rock inside, coaxing her out of bliss and back into the realm of want and deprivation.

“Damn, this cunt needs to be stretched, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “Needs to be molded just how I like.” Her pussy gave a flutter of acquiescence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But I have to save my cock for later, so we’re going to use something else to fill you up.”

FIFTY-EIGHT

The hand at her mouth fell away along with the knife, then something else nestled between her thighs. It pressed against his finger at her opening, too big to slip in easily but hard and round enough that she knew it would fit. The tip wasn’t shaped like a dildo, and her mind reeled as she tried to figure out what it was.

“Do you want to be fucked with my gun, sweetheart?”

A moan left her lips, utterly depraved even to her ears. Those words, combined with the grit in Adrian’s voice—the low, commanding tone he could use to get whatever he wanted—nearly sent her over the edge for a second time.

He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. But I want to hear you say it. Ask nicely.”

“Please fuck me,” she whimpered, half delirious.

“Mm, very tempting.” A heavy sigh left his lips as he brushed his mouth over hers. “How could I ever resist you? Did you think I’d forget how you said those words?” He let them share a delicate kiss, soft and tender and sensual. “You won me over from day one, from the moment you wanted to be mine.”

Amid her scattered thoughts, she searched for a reply, but with a tongue heavy from his taste and lips tingling in the aftermath of their kiss, no words could match the glow deep in her chest. Fortunately, Adrian didn’t seem to need one. His finger slid out and pulled her attention back to the gun. Though the ribbon still wrapped tight around her eyes, she could tell he was using her juices as lube, spreading her arousal up the barrel in preparation to penetrate.

When it pressed against her again, it wedged in the slightest amount, stretching her just like he said it would. The hardness of the steel made it difficult to adjust, the thickness of the barrel more than what she was used to. A nonsensical plea left her lips, yes and more and thank you all jumbled into one.

“That’s it.” He slid the gun back and forth, warming her up with gentle strokes over her clit, down to her puckered hole to elicit a gasp, and then sunk it inside again. She squirmed with needy impatience, pressure building up within like a corked bottle.

“So perfect,” he mused. “I love making you feel good, rubbing my gun against that hard clit and watching you try to fuck yourself on it. Earning my cock like you want it more than anything else in the whole world.” He tilted to get a better angle and pushed it in gradually, slow enough for her to accommodate the intrusion. The handle brushed her thighs as the barrel seated as deep as it could go. “You make me so proud.”

Her heart fractured at his admiration. With one long stroke, he pumped the gun in and out. She clenched down, accepting its fullness and trembling with an ache so deep it split her psyche. Perhaps this wasn’t the gun’s intended use, but it proved just as deadly.

The trembles grew as he picked up the pace. They seized her legs and belly and shoulders, blood rushing in her ears, friction winding through in her core. Her body expanded and contracted as he forced her to take it, to crave it, and she was so close, almost there—

“Don’t come.” The knife pressed to her neck, right above the leather belt. Adrian’s voice sounded as strained as she felt, harsh and rough. “Hold it.”

His thrusts didn’t stop or slow, and she had to force herself to suck in a deep breath. The blade stung against her neck while the gun punished her pussy. She was dripping, whining, caught in the snare of forbidden release. But she didn’t come.

“Good girl. Well done.” He pulled out the gun but left the knife, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I think you’re ready. You’ve earned another inch, and now there’s only one left.”

A cap clicked. Cold lube spread over her already-soaked ass. Then his finger dipped into her virgin hole, and she shivered. Forced into stillness by the knife at her throat, the tightness inside squeezed, the flames of his touch licking every hidden angle. Her jaw hung open as another finger pressed inside, the two of them twisting and stretching and filling.

Only fingers, yet it was so much, so big and demanding. Embarrassingly good.

The knife left her neck, then Adrian pulled on the belt. It constricted around her throat and drew a long whimper from her lips.

“So generous,” he praised, “letting me take both of your holes. So filthy.” With the rushed pull of a zipper, his dick plunged into her pussy. She gasped, impaled and quivering and defenseless. Filled in both places, it was almost impossible to move, to even breathe. He was everywhere, plugging her ass and her cunt, with his hand at her throat.

The leather jacket brushed against her breasts as he leaned in and whispered against her cheek, “Your asshole is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Ready to be fucked. Have I earned it, sweetheart? Will you let me give you the last inch?”

She moaned again, trying to nod through the belt and the pleasure. “Yes. Yes, sir.”

He hissed as he drew himself out and left her empty, hovering for a moment as if it took all his strength not to finish then and there. “Feel what you do to me,” he rasped, teasing her pleated hole with his fat tip. “Feel how much my body wants to please you.”

How much was accurate. There was so much, too much. Even coated in her nectar and lube, his dick had to shove against her to try and fit. It had to punish as it pleased, to take more than she thought she was able to give.

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