Page 14 of Captured By the Bratva

Gorgeous. As was the panic in her eyes as I shoved her backward until the binding on the headboard tugged her to lie back.

“Silence?” I raised my brows as she shivered, staring at me with fear in her blue eyes wide with alarm.

Still, she kept her mouth shut.

I flipped my knife around and traced the butt of the handle along her lips. Rubbing back and forth again, I taunted her to part those lips and answer me.

“We’ll see about that.”

After pushing her legs down, I curled my fingers around the hem of her shorts and pulled. Once, twice. I forced the garment down, along with her panties.

“Nothing to say yet?” I watched her, reinvigorated and so fucking revved up with lust coursing through my veins.

Stubborn as fuck. Strong to a fault. As I dragged her clothes off her, leaving her shorts and panties at one ankle before I tied them to other posts at the foot of the bed, I waited for her to break.

To speak up. To tell me to wait. To stop what I was doing.

It was a game, a battle of wills, and as I checked that all four limbs were secure, I wondered if she was silent because she had nothing to say or if she was insistent on keeping her information from me.

“Not gonna tell me to stop?” I teased.

I knelt on the bed, feasting my eyes on her creamy skin. So smooth, so soft. All for my pleasure if I so wanted.

Keeping my eyes on hers, steadying my breath as my cock strained beneath my zipper, I slid the handle of my knife up along the inside of her thigh. She trembled and shook, so overwhelmed that she closed her eyes tight.

Back and forth. Up and down. I traced the blade of my knife over her flesh without marring her once. Then I repeated it with the thick cylinder of the handle.

At her pussy, I pushed and rubbed her, grinding the rounded head of the handle at her entrance.

Glistening and plump, pink and succulent, her cunt captured my attention. She was wet. Aroused. And I grinned as I watched her squeeze her eyes shut tighter.

A sweet whimper left her lips, but she clamped them into a thin line once more.

“What do you have to tell me, Becca?” I crooned as I wedged the tip of my knife handle into her pussy.

She panted, breathing faster as I penetrated her. With my hand wrapped in the last of the silky binding I hadn’t needed to use on her, I gripped the blade and worked the handle in deeper.

Fuck. Yes.

She was so tight. Dripping wet. Her tits rose and fell faster with shallow inhales, and I fought the urge to rip her shirt down so I could see the nipples that beaded beneath the thin, stretchy fabric.

“Want to come clean and tell me what you’re up to with your dad?” I pushed the handle in deeper, gritting my teeth at how she bucked her hips up, sucking it in.

“You like that, huh?”

She shook her head, lying as she arched into my touch.

“If you tell me…” I pulled the knife out, and back. Again and again, I fucked her little pussy with my weapon. “Then I’ll keep going.”

“I—” She cinched her eyes shut tighter yet, straining with a grimace of need and frustration.

“You what, Becca?” I pushed faster, deeper, rubbing and dragging the ribbed hilt over the tender, tight walls of her cunt.

Frantic, she shook her head. She didn’t stop lifting up to meet me. Her heels pushed into the mattress for better purchase. The muscles in her arms flexed and tensed as she tried to hold on to the bindings at her wrists. With her whole body, she lied, rushing closer to get off on my knife handle sliding in and out of her cunt.

“What is it? What do youreallywant to tell me?”

An incoherent reply was all she uttered. Maybe it was a grunt. Recognizing the signs of her being so close to coming, feeling her pussy starting to near an orgasm, I stopped.

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