Page 72 of Vulnerate

His voice is deeper as he leans into me. “Choke me,rodnaya, you own my fucking air anyway.”

Holding his cheeks until he opens his mouth, I spit up so he can’t say anything else.

Ruin my body for anyone else and I’ll survive. But I won’t survive Valentin being his own brand of sweet. We both tighten our hold, and he fists my hair dragging my head back applying more pressure to the sides of my neck.

My legs shake from how hard I’m trying to hold back. The dark laugh blowing across my skin is annoying as fuck and I move my fist closer to his throat to cut it off. It doesn’t work and he changes the angle of his hips making me combust.

“Fuck! Val! I can’t!”

My arms go limp, but he doesn’t stop and the tight ball of lust that has been building explodes, shattering me in pieces.

He doesn’t let me recover and tilts the world until I’m pressed against the table. Gently turning the collar around my neck so the belt goes down my spine he pulls my wrists together binding them with the end of the belt. Smoothing a hand over the curve of my ass, he kneads my flesh and tries talking to a person who’s not coherent.

“Only one hole left then you’re fully mine.”

His dick is in proportion with the rest of his body, huge, and I clench.Soft lips press against my ass cheek moving up my back. Val’s tattooed hand comes into view, and he picks up a thin paint brush making me rush out, “You’re not sticking that up my ass.”

I don’t give a fuck if my language isn’t sexy and that I sound dopey still coming down from the most amazing high of my life. Pushing my ass cheeks apart, he tries to hide laugh in his speech.

“I’ve got to get your tight hole ready to take me,rodnaya.”

Moving his thumbs down he pulls my lips apart and sucks in a breathe.

The low awe filled tone has me relaxing. “Your greedy little cunt is all swollen, don’t worry baby. I’ll fill you back up.” I only meet air as I push my ass back chasing the promise and whimper at being denied. “After I paint your ass red for trying to leave me.”

The air whistles and the sting lands in a thin stripe. There’s no pattern to his movements and his interrogation comes with my own countering each question between moans, screams, and the most amazing pain.

“Are you going to leave me again?”

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“Who do you belong to?”

“Myself.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“Don’t want to lie.”

There’s more force in the final strike and my back bows on a scream. The paintbrush is dropped onto the table, and he palms my stinging ass with both hands as he flattens over me and kisses below my ear.

“Where’s your camera baby?”

How does he know I have it? His forehead brushes the side of my head, and he speaks so gently it almost makes it innocent.

“You always record yourself working, let me show you how a true masterpiece is made.”

He doesn’t get to say things like that, and my stupid heart officially signs itself over to him as I weakly answer, “Under the table.”

His lips are soft against my cheek as he presses his praise into me.

“Good girl, don’t move baby.”

The instruction is useless when I’m not capable of moving even if I wanted to. His warmth leaves my back, and he takes my camera out setting up the tripod so it’s above me. I’m lifted from the edge of the table, and he pushes everything off it to lay me down. My wrists are still tied behind my back, and it pushes my chest up. Val stretches his hand out against my sternum as he widens my legs, so they’re dropped overeach edge of the work bench. A moan gets trapped in my chest as he lazily massages up my chest and lifts a bottle of isopropyl alcohol that I use to clean my brushes.

I have no idea what he’s planning, and he looks down at me as he hits the switch for the camera to start recording. His voice is slow and dangerous.

“Can you stay still?”

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