Page 14 of Repossess My Heart

“Fuck no. I just want to hear you admit it before I take this weeping little cunt of yours. Either way, it’smine.” Frustration rears its ugly head as the last word leaves me in a growl. Possessiveness making the blood pumping in my chest boil in place, scoring the sensitive inner flesh for what I’m sure will be a lifetime. All of it wiped away by the throbbing in my cock as Reverie’s back arches off the table, her arms straining against the restraints that are digging into her beautiful flesh.

“The only way I want you to touch me is by removing my heart.” She bites out.

“Pity…”

“Pity what?” She pants, squeezing her legs together tightly as I jerk off my gloves, trailing them up the smooth flesh of her legs. Teasing her and oh, how her entire body responds.

“That your last words will be a lie.”

I don’t bother removing my suit, telling myself it’s because I don’t care to. To add to the fear, the moment. To create the perfect expression in her eyes before I harvest them. That it’s not at all because of the sound she just made. A needy little whimper that escaped as she jerked harder against her bindings, her thighs rubbing together. My gloves hit the floor as my fingers find the button at the end of the table. Reverie cries out in surprise as her legs are jerked flat, taut against the table again, “No need to protect your modesty now. I’ve already seen all of you.”

“Stop it!”

Not a chance.

Her breasts heave as I reach above me, dragging down a long shining metal bar that was suspended above. This is certainly not its intended purpose but bound to be the most fun I’ve ever had with it. The second her restraints pop open, freeing her, those boring eyes widen as she jolts upright. Her hands fly out in an attempt to stop me as her fingernails graze the side of my neck. A slight burning pain tells me she even drew blood. It only makes my cock harden further as I thrust the bar underneath her chin, slamming her back into the table.

“Bad girl.” I taunt. She doesn’t stop her thrashing as I replace my hand with the bar, loving the feel of her frantic pulse beneath my thumb. Much preferring to monitor her this way than the number displayed in the corner of my vision.

Can’t have the goods damaged by a little playtime after all.

“Stop…” She gasps, using up the little breath I’m allowing her as I shove the bar underneath the bends of her legs. My hand leaves her throat, her desperate breath doesn’t even halfway fill her lungs as I wrench her knees to her chest. Climbing onto the table and using my bodyweight to pin them there. The knowledge that her needy cunt is just inches from my cock is enough to make everything that happens next rushed and admittedly a little sloppy. My lips brush her cheek as her hands fight mine for dominance, my tongue slipping out to taste the saltiness of her skin. Wondering if her tears will taste as good as her sweat. I wrap the chained restraints around the bar before fighting her hands into them, her sweet cries sound closer to moans than the ones I want from her.

The ones I need from her.

Despite her cries being more pleasure than pain, my tongue slips again. “You’re perfect like this, sweetling.” I whisper, nipping at her ear before the sick smile I’ve been fighting back overtakes me, “Restraints engage.”

Reverie yelps as I back away, letting my apron drop to the floor at my feet as the restraints tighten, keeping her open and spread for me. Her legs wide, her knees forced to her chest, giving me the perfect view of her. My sweetling stills quickly, finding out the more she jerks, the more it tightens. Her umber eyes are nearly swallowed by her pupils as I free my cock stalking around the table. Recording everything in my secure server, committing every inch of her to a memory that will never rot. My sweetling is a good girl. Deep down I can tell. All this fighting, all this protesting, is for show. Her clit throbs, pulsing with the beat of her heart, one that’s playing like a sacred hymn in my ears as she sits still as a stone. She doesn’t protest when I disengage the restraints again, allowing me to jerk her to the edge before they tighten back up. Keeping my little obsession secure.

Her eyes widen as I bend, my own heart attempting to mimic her erratic beat as I hover above her warm flesh. The copper smell of her blood is inches from the tip of my nose as I drag my tongue down the damaged planes of her stomach. Reverie jerks against the restrains as I take my time, lapping at the trail my scalpel left on beautiful unscarred skin. Skin that will never be unscarred again. Forever marked.

Forever mine.

Even in death.

I palm my cock again, pumping it slowly, evenly as if it’ll displace some of the throbbing pressure. Reverie’s eyes open from where she’d squeezed them shut just in time to watch me pull back admiring my handiwork. I can’t pull my eyes from where I know the large number nine rests. The one I had cut into her stomach as I lick the residual blood from my lips. She can’t see it now, not from her position. Her body crumpled and spread but the idea of a horrified look gracing her features when she sees it has me bending in for another taste of her. I flatten my tongue on her soaked slit running the length. I don’t try to stop the groan from slipping past when her sweet tangy flavor bursts on my tongue. Reverie isn’t fighting, she isn’t jerking away in distress, she’s oddly still.

That won’t do.

My fingers trace the opening of her sex, a perfectly tight little hole I can’t wait to abuse and stretch. While the idea of forcing her untrained cunt down on my cock is nearly enough to make me explode, I won’t. The part of me that she’s ruined, distracted, won’t allow it. I’d rather see her face pitched in pleasure than pain, for now.

“Nine, please.” She gasps, her voice tight as if she’s bracing for something painful. I clamp down on it when my mind attempts to wonder why.

Not my problem.

She cries out in a soft mewling tone as my mouth clamps down on her taut bud, sucking and flicking my tongue as she comes to life. Cries morph into pleas for me to stop and short, harsh pants. It's musical and for a moment even I doubt her screams in terror could compare. Her opening accepts my fingers easier than I’d expected it to, plunging them slowly in and out as the chains above her head clash and clank together in a near deafening percussion. My hips move in tandem with the way she grinds herself against my mouth. Torn between wanting more and pulling away. If it's push and pull you want sweetling it’s push and pull, you’ll get. For now, at this moment, I’m a slave to your pleasure. It’s the least I can do when I know the fear you hide, the pain you give me will be life changing.

Awe-inspiring even.

“Such an obedient little cunt sweetling, opening up for me like this.” I murmur, my breath teasing the swollen bud as I twist my fingers inside her, spreading them until I find the little rough patch that will drive her over the edge, “I think it’s nearly ready to take my cock. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Her answer is a scream, one that holds my number as I stroke that spot deep inside her. The arousal from her orgasm dripping onto my hand.

She’s perfect.

She’s fucking perfect.

The irritation that wayward thought brings is quickly drowned out by the aching in my cock. By the come beading at the tip. A new thought blooms as Reverie pants, gone to the residual waves of pleasure for the moment as I run my soaked palm over my length, coating myself with her arousal.

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