Page 33 of Kings of Violence

Konstantin pushes on my shoulders, as if he thinks I’m not going to obey. But I get on my knees, wishing the rug wasn’t so rough and thin.

Maybe I can get them to give me a pillow for my knees.

I almost laugh about that. Yeah, right. My suffering is the point for them.

Yuri approaches me, stomping in those heavy boots. The jeans are so form-fitting that I wonder how he even squeezes into them. This close, I can see that his belt has little metal studs all over.

He undoes the belt and opens up his fly. He isn’t hard yet, and I’m not sure if I’m glad he isn’t getting off on the anger alone, or if this means everything will just be prolonged.

“Take me out,” Yuri orders. “You’re going to have to really work for it.”

I don’t know if that’s meant to be insulting or not. I ignore the hard floor beneath my knees, taking a deep breath and staring at his flaccid cock.

At first I think there’s hair on it, until I realize the dark lines are from a tattoo. I swallow a surprised noise, trying not to imagine how much it must have hurt to get that image done. I have more important things to focus on.

I don’t have much experience with sucking cock. I’ve done it a few times — usually under duress because my ex would get pissy or sulky if I didn’t do it — but I’m no expert.

I slowly take his cock into my hand, and it’s only then that I realize I’m shaking. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want anything to do with this. I just want to be left alone.

Too fucking bad, I tell myself. I need to just get it over with.

I start to stroke him, looking only at his cock instead of up at his face. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, as Iwork to get him hard. The tattoo expands with his cock, and I realize I’m looking at a whip coiled around his shaft.

It extends up his belly, and I briefly wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes.

I could hope I’ll never find out, but I know I won’t be that lucky.

Konstantin grabs my hair and tugs it sharply. “Mouth open, Sierrochka.”

I think I like being called zaya more than this strange derivative of my name. It’s not as though I think it’s an affectionate gesture, after all.

I slowly open my mouth, and Yuri slides the head of his cock over my lips. I whimper, not wanting to taste it, not wanting to feel it, and I’d pull back if it wasn’t for Konstantin’s grasp on my hair.

“You bite, whore, and I knock your teeth out,” Yuri growls at me. He grabs my jaw and squeezes my cheeks hard enough to hurt. “You understand?”

I don’t recognize this angry man at all. This isn’t the same guy I’d flirted with back then.

I nod, which doesn’t seem to be enough because he squeezes again, even harder. “Yes,” I try to say, even though it comes out as a muffled sound instead of resembling the word.

It must satisfy him, though, because he lets go of me long enough to shove his cock right past my lips and over my tongue, all the way to the back of my throat. I’ve always had a sensitive gag reflex, and thankfully, my ex had been smaller than average.

That had really explained a lot, honestly, though why I’m thinking about that right now, I’m not even sure.

I still don’t like giving blowjobs.

Yuri pauses with his pelvis right against my nose. I try to breathe through my nose, but his cock is blocking my airways, and I instinctively start to swallow. I want to pull my head back, but Konstantin is still there, holding my head in place.

Yuri groans. It’s not until I’m making distressed sounds that he pulls out, and I cough and sputter in an attempt to get air back into my lungs.

“Her throat feels nice when it’s convulsing around me,” Yurisays, thrusting forward again. Thankfully it’s not nearly as deep this time, and I work hard to make sure I breathe.

“Don’t choke her to death,” Nikolai says as I struggle, and he laughs.

The bastard actually fuckinglaughs, like it’s funny.

Konstantin strokes my scalp with the hand that isn’t gripping my hair. “It would be a shame to kill her now. She hasn’t found her father’s secret stash yet.”

I try to pull off, but Yuri makes it clear that he’slettingme breathe. I don’t think for a second that I could stop them if they decided to end me like this, to steal away the last of my breaths by fucking me.

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