Marcus positioned himself between my spread legs. I gave an honest, authentic whimper as he lowered his fly and freed his massive cock, his heavy balls.
In the dark of my bedroom, when he had taken my mouth and my anus with his rigid penis before Delacroix could, I hadn’t gotten such a clear, obscene view of it. The sight of my true master’s long, hard manhood, brandished arrogantly in his left hand, made me tremble with a potent mixture of fear and desire.
“Look at how wet the little slut is already,” Marcel sneered, his thick fingers digging into my thigh. “Barely touched her and she’s dripping.”
I flushed hotly, knowing it was true. Despite my fear and shame—no, as embarrassing as it was, because of them—my pussy had gotten slick with arousal.
Marcus ran the head of his cock up and down my slit, coating it in my juices. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my hips jerking involuntarily at the teasing contact.
“Beg for it, whore,” Marcus growled, his voice rough with barely contained lust. “Beg for my cock in your tight little cunt.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please, I need your cock. Please fuck me.”
A chorus of lewd comments and laughter erupted from the other guards. Charles, the young one, looked almost uncomfortable, but his eyes remained fixed on where Marcus’ cock rested against my pussy.
I bit my lip, my breath coming through my nose with little whining, mewling noises as I felt my miles lower the head of his manhood a little, press it gently into the place where I needed him so very badly. I looked up into his eyes, and I saw dominance, brutality.
I remembered him telling me, back in Delacroix’s bedroom, that he wouldn’t be able to look at me the way he wanted. I let out a sob at the sheer hardness of his expression. I had no need to feign the terror and humiliation I felt at the way I would lose my final virginity.
Then I felt Marcus rub his thumb along the inside of my thigh, so subtly it might have represented only a random movement. But I knew what it meant, because somehow, despite the cruelty he had plastered on his face, I saw his true intentions, his real emotion, deep in the pools of his eyes.
I love you.
CHAPTER 20
Marcus
I gripped Sophia’s hips tightly, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. With a growl, I thrust forward brutally, sheathing myself to the hilt in one savage motion. The sensation of her impossibly tight, virgin cunt gripping my cock nearly overwhelmed me.
Sophia screamed, her back arching off the bench. Her cry was a mixture of pain and shocked pleasure that sent a primal thrill through me. I felt her inner walls clench around me, rippling with aftershocks.
“That’s it, scream for me, whore,” I snarled, my voice rough. I pulled back and slammed into her again, tearing another cry from her throat.
The guards erupted in cheers and obscenities.
“Fuck yeah, show that little slut what she’s good for,” Marcel grunted.
“Damn, listen to her squeal,” another guard laughed. “Like a stuck pig.”
“Bet she loves it though,” Jacques added with a leer. “Look how wet she is.”
Their crude remarks grated on my nerves, stoking the fury I felt at having to share this moment with them. This should have been private, tender. Instead, I was forced to brutalize the woman I loved for the entertainment of these animals.
And yet… a dark part of me reveled in it. In claiming Sophia so completely, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible. My dominance surged, telling me this all represented the right thing for her, for me, for the dangerous situation—for the good of civilization, even.
I gritted my teeth, channeling my conflicted emotions into the punishing rhythm of my thrusts. Sophia’s cries had softened to whimpers and gasps, her body yielding to me despite the brutal pace. Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners.
“Open your eyes,” I growled. “Look at me while I fuck you.”
She obeyed instantly, her lashes fluttering open. The sight of her wide, tear-filled eyes gazing up at me with such raw vulnerability nearly undid me. I saw fear there, yes, but also trust. And something else… a desperate need that matched my own.
“That’s it,” I panted. “Naughty girl. Such a naughty little whore for anyone who uses your holes.”
Her pussy clenched around me at the brutal praise, drawing a groan from my throat. I could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating my cock despite the pain I knew she must be feeling.
“See how she takes it?” I grunted to the other guards. “Told you she was made for this. Nothing but an eager little fuck toy.”
Marcel laughed crudely. “Damn right. Look at those tits bounce. Can’t wait to get my hands on ‘em.”