Page 34 of Violent Love: Viktor

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I touched his cock. Hot. Hard. Real.

Worship?

I licked my dry lips and dragged my tongue up the shaft to the tip, tasting the salt.

I shut my eyes. Tried to pretend this was just a filthy encounter. Not this. Not this.

My lips closed around the head.

I sucked. Hollowed my cheeks.

My hands moved at the base while my mouth worked, sliding up and down his cock.

One sound.

A hiss.

I sucked harder. Used my tongue. I gave him everything.

The wetter his cock became, the easier it was.

“Deeper,” he barked.

I pushed down until I gagged—but didn’t move.

“Hold.”

He pulled back, then thrust forward, forcing the head into my throat.

I let go of his cock and braced myself against the cold metal.

My eyes watered. My jaw ached from holding myself open. He grunted like an animal. Each thrust was more brutal, faster—until I struggled to keep my face against the door.

Wet choking sounds filled the room.

My tears ran freely—not from pain, but from the ache between my legs I didn’t ask for. I squeezed my thighs together.

For a moment, my spirit left my body. This wasn’t happening.

His cock pulsed. He pulled back. Hot spurts of thick cum shot down my throat. He grunted as he finished. The taste flooded my tongue—salty, bitter, and warm. I tilted my head before it could drip.

“Swallow and clean my cock. If a single drop hits the floor—lick it up.”

My eyes snapped open. I glanced down. Nothing.

I swallowed. I cleaned. I earned my meal.

His cock disappeared. A moment later, I saw him zip up his black trousers. Then a plastic container slid through the hatch.

“On the floor. Eat like a propersuka. I’ll be watching.”

I took the container. I should’ve been happy.

But I was too numb to feel.

I opened the lid.

It was still warm.

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