Page 79 of Violent Love: Viktor
“I love you, Master,” I whispered.
Just like that, his dark eyes softened, and he climbed back onto the bed. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but his lips closed around my nipple. He sucked hard, then pulled back justto circle it with his tongue. Then sucking again, harder—with teeth this time—until I was clenching around the knot buried inside me.
He glanced up before moving to my other nipple.
It was going to be another long night, and I wassolooking forward to it.
???
My eyes snapped open, and I glanced at my sleeping husband. He was still asleep, stretched out like a king, one arm thrown over his head, the other resting palm-up beside me. His chest rose steadily. In the beginning he never let me touch his scarred cheek, but now everything was different—he was different.
With a smile, I lifted a corner of the cover.
His cock lay soft and thick against his thigh, heavy with promise. I inched the covers down and tucked myself beneath them.
There it was—my favourite part of him.
Even now, it looked proud. Commanding. Unbothered by sleep, like it knew I’d come crawling.
I kissed the tip, tender and slow. He twitched in response, but didn’t wake.
I ran my tongue up the underside, slow enough to savour every ridge, every pulse of heat. I circled the head with lazy reverence, drinking in the taste of skin, salt, and home.
I wrapped my fingers loosely around the base, not stroking, just holding.
Last night, he’d tossed the dog dick across the room in a fit of territorial rage. I still wasn’t sure what he’d do if an actual manever tried to hit on me. Probably tear his throat out with his teeth and use the blood as lube.
Now here I was. Still aching, mouth full of his cock like a good little pet.
I took him in, inch by inch, letting him fill me slow. No rush. No teasing. Just devotion. My lips stretched around him, tongue gliding along every inch like I was trying to learn him all over again.
He grew in my mouth. Hardening, thickening, responding to me even in sleep. My jaw ached, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I moaned softly, letting the vibration roll over him.
His fingers twitched.
Another inch, another hum. He shifted under the sheets, hand brushing my hair like instinct.
I closed my eyes and suckled slowly, worshipping the cock that owned me, and my ruined little cunt.
He sighed.
“My dirty little cock sucker,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.
His hand slid into my hair, lazy and warm at first. Just petting. Possessive.
I moaned around him, letting him swell deeper in my mouth. His cock throbbed on my tongue, already hard, already twitching.
“That mouth was made for me,” he muttered, hips giving a slow roll.
I gagged softly. His fingers tightened.
“I should ruin your throat.”
There was no malice in it—only a promise.
“Wake up with my cock in your mouth and my cum leaking out of that filthy little pussy. Sound fair?”
I whimpered around him.
