Page 12 of Kings of Violence

Not with them, not like this, not here, not now.

Never with them.

But that telltale feeling is building and building, and I squirm as I try to getawayfrom that inexorable pleasure — or so I tell myself. It only makes it rub against me in the best ways instead, and his cock is so thick that I can’t get away from it.

Kotya’s thrusts start getting faster, and that should make the friction worse but somehow only ramps up the pleasure. My attempts to hold off the orgasm only make things worse, because tensing my body has me feeling his cock more.

Maybe if he comes first, he’ll give up on me. Maybe I can be spared the indignity of coming.

“Close,” Kotya murmurs. “Do a better job, Nikolai.”

“You do a better job,” Nikolai retorts. “Put that big cock of yours to work.” He looks at me and laughs. “Put a big load in her, Kotya, so we can put her away wet and sloppy, just like you like it.”

But despite his words, he finds a rhythm too, fingers lightly dancing along the side of my slick clit as the orgasm builds and builds and?—

I can’t stop it.

It crashes into me like a tidal wave, leaving me gasping andwhining and spasming on Kotya’s cock. Nikolai doesn’t let up, chasing me as I jerk and move and wail out my pleasure, and all the while, Kotya only fucks me harder. Faster.

Until he’s spilling into me, too, and I’m too dazed to think about anything.

I slowly come back to myself. I hear my labored breathing alongside Kotya’s loud huffs. A drop of sweat trickles down from him onto my body.

And when he pulls out, I immediately notice just howemptyI am now.

“Not bad,” Kotya says. He reaches for a tissue from the side table and begins to wipe himself off. “What do you think, Nikolai? Do we leave her wet and sloppy until tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” Nikolai says. “I want to take some pictures when we get her upstairs. To, you know, commemorate the occasion.”

I hate his fucking smirk.

“After all, this might be the night you get pregnant, zaya. We wouldn’t want to forget about this.” He pauses, and I only dimly notice him taking his phone out of his pants pocket as those words wash over me with surprising force.

No. I can’t get pregnant. I’m only twenty-two. That’s barely old enough to drink, let alone have babies, and I definitely don’t want to be a mafia man’s whore.

“Wait, actually,” Nikolai says, and I almost think he’s going to suggest something, anything, to keep me from this nightmare. I’m a fucking idiot, though, because all he says is, “Spread her cunt for me.”

Kotya tucks himself in before reaching for my legs. He hooks an arm under my knees and forces them up, exposing my cunt more. Nikolai immediately starts taking photos, and all I can do is lie there, a total mess who can barely even catch my breath with words I don’t want to think about running through my mind.

Pregnant.

“You will share those with Yura,” Kotya says. It doesn’t sound like a question.

Nikolai hesitates with the phone, lowering it for a momentbefore starting to slowly walk around me, taking more pictures. “Maybe we shouldn’t show Yura before he gets out,” he says cautiously. “He only has a few weeks left. I would hate for him to go into a rage and extend that sentence.”

I don’t understand why seeing pictures of me would make anyone rage.

Kotya scowls at him. “Yura will want to see. And it will be worse if he comes home and finds a woman here.”

Nikolai scowls right back at him, speaking in rapid Russian. Kotya replies in kind, and their voices gradually calm as they finally seem to work out their argument.

I hate not being able to understand it so fucking much.

“Good,” Kotya finally says. He lifts me up, and I let out a quiet yelp as he starts to carry me bridal-style toward the door of the cell.

“Make sure to keep her legs spread,” Nikolai says with a low chuckle. “Let everyone see this wrecked pussy.”

The red of humiliation in my cheeks only deepens, but there’s nothing I can do but bury my face against his chest. That feels too intimate, so I stop doing it, but that means I have to look around me.

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