Page 132 of Malicious Claim

But he did.

The moment the cold silicone touched her, she thrashed, writhing away as far as she could manage.

It didn't do any good.

He forced it in, the slow penetration making her body stiffen by reflex.

Then he turned it on.

Leila choked on a gasp, her back arching as thrumming vibrations rippled through her.

Makros sat beside her, watching her twisting. "How long do you suppose you'll resist, Leila? How long before you beg?"

"Go to hell," she snarled.

He turned the setting higher.

A moan ripped from her throat.

She pressed her lips together to seal, but her body betrayed her. Heat rose deep in her abdomen, pain and pleasure entwining in a bitter, intoxicating blend.

Makros leaned forward, lips against her ear. "I can continue this indefinitely, or I could stop. All you have to do to make this end is admit that you spoke with the man in yellow."

Leila pinched her eyes shut, struggling against it.

But with every passing second, the pleasure leaned towards something unbearable.

"Okay, okay I spoke with him."

She started crying.

Chapter Fifty

The Seed of Doubt.

Leila's body no longer felt like it belonged to her. It was a trembling, aching vessel which was squeezed out, over-sensitive, and raw with too much pleasure and too much pain.

Her wrists and ankles were still bound, secured up against those stiff leather cuffs, and the ropes around her breasts still bit into her puffy flesh. With every shallow breath she took, the knots sank in deeper.

Her skin burned where the flogger had repeatedly kissed her. Stinging welts were spread across her thighs, her belly, and the sensitive curve of her breasts.

The reward of pleasure and punishment conflated until she was hardly able to distinguish between them.

Her pussy ached and pulsed. Every beat threw her into shivers, her body jerking as if it still expected more. The vibrator had worn her down, and even now it still thrummed within her, the feeling refusing to fade.

It was not just her body that was exhausted.

Her mind had been exhausted also.

Makros had gotten the confession from her, unpicked her with his cruel sex punishments until she blurted out the truth against her will.

She had lost.

She had offered him exactly what he wanted. And now, lying there—exposed, naked, helpless—reality hit home with all the weight of a slow, suffocating tide.

Would he be satisfied with that answer? Or would he press her for more?

Was this over, or was there still more punishment to come?

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