Page 43 of Ruthless Desire

But even as my mind rebels, my treacherous body cants into his touch, craving more of the sweet agonies he metes out with such ruthless precision. His scent is in my head, his taste on my tongue, corrupting me from the inside out until I no longer know where I end and he begins.

Dante strokes down my body at an excruciating pace, his palm branding me through the thin cotton of my gown. Every nerve ending screams at his touch, my flesh trembling, straining for more even as my heart cringes away.

The vibrator finds the juncture of my thighs, parting my folds to nestle against the throbbing pearl of my clit. I jerk and spasm in his hold, a high keening sound that can't possibly be my own ripping from my throat.

"That's it, moy voron," he coaxes, circling that devil's toy in slow, devastating passes. "Give into it. Give in to me. Let me take you apart, flay the resistance from your bones until all that remains is the raw, weeping wound of your need."

I'm on fire, I'm drowning, I'm lost to the hellish ecstasy spiraling through me, scalding me from the inside out. His lips are on my neck, my jaw, painting my skin with biting, open-mouthed kisses that stake his claim more indelibly than any bruise.

The pressure builds, white-hot, agonizing, unstoppable. An inferno raging through my blood, consuming every secret part of me until I'm little more than cinder and ash. I'm so close, teetering on the knife's edge of ruination, waiting for Dante's permission to let go, to annihilate myself on the altar of his desire.

But that final crest never comes. With a suddenness that leaves me reeling, Dante rips the vibrator away, his grip around my throat tightening to the point of pain.

"Not yet," he growls, the words guttural, almost inhuman. "You don't get to come, don't get to shatter so sweetly. Not until you've been punished for your transgressions, until I've wrung proper penitence from your quivering flesh."

His eyes are black holes, twin voids promising oblivion. I've seen that look before, in our darkest, most depraved moments - that unholy cocktail of madness and devotion. It terrifies me. It thrills me.

In one graceful motion, he spins me to face the desk, bending me over the unforgiving wood. Cool air kisses my bared flesh as he rucks up my gown, exposing me utterly to his ravenous gaze.

"This ass is mine," he rasps, palming the tender globes, nails digging in hard enough to draw pained hisses from my lips. "This pretty pink cunt, weeping so wantonly for my cock? Mine. Every trembling inch of you belongs to me, mia regina. And it's high time I remind you of what that means."

The first stinging slap cracks across my tender flesh, jolting me against the desk. I yelp, tears springing to my eyes, but Dante is relentless. He rains down blow after punishing blow, igniting my nerve endings, scorching me inside and out until I'm little more than a writhing, pleading creature begging for reprieve.

And beneath the pain, beneath the degradation...dark pleasure unfurls. Each brutal strike winds the tension in my core tighter, stokes the embers of poisonous need into a roaring conflagration.

Dante can sense it, feel the way I'm coming apart at the seams, my agony transmuting into something infinitely more dangerous. His harsh breaths mingle with my choked sobs, a profane symphony in the hush of shadows.

"You need this, don't you?" His lips brush the shell of my ear, the dark silk of his voice more intoxicating than the finest bourbon.

"Need me to hurt you, dominate you, fuck you, until you forget where you end and I begin. Until your world narrows to the red-hot lick of my palm, the brutal thrust of my cock, the inescapable truth that you are more mine than you will ever be your own."

His words shatter me more thoroughly than any lash, stripping me bare and flayed to the marrow. Because he's right. God help me, he's right. I do need him, crave him with a desperation that defies reason. He's in my blood, my bones, a cancer I can't carve out without cutting into the tenderest parts of myself.

Tears course down my cheeks unchecked, soaking into the rich mahogany beneath my fevered cheek. Dimly, I realize Dante has stopped his assault, simply cupping my bruised and burning backside almost tenderly.

"Please," I whimper, so soft I can barely hear myself over the roar of blood in my ears. "Please, Dante..."

"Please what, solnyshko? Use your words like a good girl. Tell me what you need, and if you beg sweetly enough...I might just give it to you."

His hand glides over my inner thigh, skimming the soaked folds of my sex but never quite touching that throbbing, aching place I need him most. I want to scream, to thrash against him until he gives me what my body so desperately craves.

But I know it's futile. He holds all the power here, my pleasure, my torment, my utter ruination at his whim and fancy.

So I do the only thing I can. The only thing that might grant me some measure of release from this sweet, unbearable anguish.

I beg.

"Please fuck me," I plead, my voice cracked and raw with unfiltered need. "Please, I'll do anything, be anything you want. Just let me come, let me feel you inside me, filling me, taking me, oh god, please, I can't..."

My babbled entreaties dissolve into sobbing moans as he enters me in one brutal thrust, impaling me on the thick, pulsing heat of his cock.

"Fuck, yes," he snarls, hands like steel bands on my hips. "Take it, you greedy little cunt. Take every inch I'm giving you and thank me for the privilege."

He pounds into me, each ruthless stroke driving me higher, pushing me closer to the edge of something vast and shattering. I'm lost to it, to him, my entire existence narrowed to the place where we're joined, the slick drag of his flesh sheathed so deeply in my own.

His fingers find my clit, circling it in savage counterpoint to the battering ram of his cock. "Come for me," he commands, and it's that dark authority in his voice that finally sends me hurtling into ecstasy.

I shatter with a breathless scream, my body convulsing, clenching around him as wave after wave of agonized bliss crashes over me. Distantly, I feel Dante follow me over the edge, his harsh groan muffled against my shoulder as he spills himself deep inside my fluttering depths.

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