Page 130 of His Enforcer

“Yes,” he groans, his tight hole enveloping my cock.

I remember that first night three years ago. The way he felt against me, smelling like soap, like something entirely him. I couldn’t help myself then. I gave in.

And here I am. Giving in again.

Viktor’s back is to my chest, his ass to my groin. Before he fell asleep, I worked more lube into him as he sighed, knowing this was the end goal. That I was going to fuck him until he couldn’t move without thinking of me.

“Oh god, so good,” he moans as he arches his hips back, meeting my forward thrusts.

The way he engulfs me, the easy way he takes me.

My little slut.

I knew it that night and I know it now. Only this time, I have him. He’s not fightingit.

My hand reaches around and shuttles up and down his cock as I slowly fuck into him, feeling the clench of his ass against me, the way he sighs and murmurs incoherently as I drag him closer and closer to the edge.

“Tell me how much you love it,” I whisper into his ear, his hand moving behind him to grab at my hair. “Tell me how much you need it.”

“Love it. Need it. Love. Love,” his words slur as I continue to bring him toward the edge.

And then I stop, holding myself into him, squeezing the base of his dick and making him whine.

“Not yet, baby. Not fucking yet.”

He whimpers, and I drag my teeth across his neck, waiting until he’s writhing back against me, making me grunt. It’s only then that I start to tunnel back into him. It’s slow and torturous, the two of us panting by the time I finally let us both fall over the edge.

He burrows his head into the pillow and almost sobs, my fingers moving back into his hole and once more pushing my cum back into him.

We’re messes, completely and utterly wrecked. But then I knew that would happen the minute I gave in. It’s why I resisted it for so many years.

“I’m not done with you,” I tell him, and he gasps as I continue to play with him, toying with him until I’m hard again. I push inside, fucking him from behind, his body sprawled out flat on the bed as I use him, alternating between slow and fast, between urgent and drawing it out.

By the time I find release for the third time tonight, I’m sure I won’t move again. Maybe I am too old, maybe my stamina isn’t up to his needs.

My eyes close, and Viktor snuggles up against me, wrapping himself around me.

“I’m not done with you,” he whispers as my mind moves into a dream state.

He’s right.

He’s not done with me.

I didn’t think he would be, not with his sex drive. Not with his need for me.

He begged just like he did that night, only this time he was unrestrained, open. He was hiding nothing.

My mind shuts down, and I sink into sleep, feeling relaxed for the first time in ages.

The flames lick at my skin and I curl in tighter, trying to escape them. I feel the sting of the spiders biting me, trying to kill me before the flames get me.

My mom said they’re poisonous. I bet I die from that first.

I hear a rattling and groan, and I unfurl, peering out of the crawlspace.

Viktor. He’s there, his face bloody, his hand outstretched.

I cry out, my fingernails scraping at the wooden confines, but I can’t get out. I’m trapped. I watch as the fire crawls toward him, enveloping him, taking him from me.

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