Page 38 of Jewel of the Assassin
“The attached metal clamps allow me to spread the lips of your vagina wide.”
When he does, I choke from the stretching sensation. It isn’t exactly painful, but it’s uncomfortable. The clamps bite the hypersensitive skin. And my clit, inner folds, and the vestibule are fully exposed to the cool air. More arousal. More hypersensitive than ever, all my nerve endings vulnerable.
Roman positions the whip at my wide-open pussy. I widen my eyes and take a deep breath. He whips me. I scream from the three rapid-fire strikes. More severe and extreme. Like fire and ice, like tiny volcanic eruptions resonating in my core.
Six more lashes. His tongue licks my pussy between each three. He kisses my wet labia, suckles, and mashes his tongue inside till he rims my opening. Molten heat floods my center until the drips turn into a stream. He drinks, his tongue flat and strong to torture my slit. My pussy squelches, sucking on emptiness.
“You are such a beautiful, breathtaking sight,” he murmurs. “This cunt creaming for me. Your pretty sphincter clenching around my ginger root. And most of all, these lips spread for me.” He traces two fingers along my wide-open pubic lips. “Like a rosebud opening to a flush sunrise, lovely rose petals with dew glistening all over them. No greater form of erotic beauty than a woman’s intimate regions. Fuck, I’ve never been harder.”
Why do his words give me a twisted sense of pride? How can he find this beautiful? It’s raw, abusive, brutal. But also…powerful and all-consuming.
“Now, let us remove this.” He moves his fingers between my cheeks. “I have more plans for this sweet, little asshole. Much filthier plans.”
Fists clenched, sweat streaming down my body, I cry out as he slowly pulls out the ginger. In some ways, the cold air hitting my anus only seems to intensify the burning. He chucks it to theground. One lick of his tongue to my anus, and my inner muscles flutter.
Until he spanks my pussy with his palm. And growls. “You will not come, Valentina. Not without my permission. I warned you. If you fall apart without my command, this will all repeat. I’ll clamp your tits with electro-shock vibrators. I’ll fix a sucker to your clit and pussy and an enema dildo and leave you here for the rest of the night.”
My breath bursts. Heart hammering in my chest. No, please no.
“I will never claim to be anything more than what I am,” he says, his gaze fierce and penetrating. “I am not a good man. That is not your fault, nor your burden to bear. You will never fix me. I won’t even allow you to try.” He cups my chin with his other hand, and I swallow hard. “But I am yours, nonetheless. And most of all, you are mine. Tonight, you will know it. You will take the truth until it sears into your very soul. Now, I will prepare this for my cock.”
The whip handle dips into my center. He rolls it around, soaking the tip. The hard leather painfully stretches my entrance. But it doesn’t last long.
Without warning, he shoves the handle of the whip into my back hole. I scream from the sharp, stabbing pain, the horrific pressure. He twists the handle, sliding it in another inch.
“Stop!” I shriek, body jolting, stomach cramping from the force.
He thrusts it in and out, going deeper. “Tell me what it feels like, maya Valya.”
“Like you’re rearranging my organs!”
“And they will never forget the shape of my cock.” One more inch. “Look at you, this sweet ass taking the whole handle. Such a magnificent sight with your tiny ass stretched so wide.”
“I’ve never done this. It has to be the first time.”
“Hmm…and if it is, mywife?” He lifts his gaze to me, and I take a deep breath as he thrusts the handle in and out, fucking myass with it. “It would not mean anything but that you aremine. And now, I will prove it.”
He removes the handle and drops the whip.
Tremors erupt through me as he dims the lanterns in the dungeon. But I can still see him.The outline of him.The way he moves, circling me. Like a beast off its leash. No mask of control. No whispered promises of patience. He is power made flesh, beautiful and monstrous. A god carved from war and hunger.
He reaches for his shirt. One button undone, then another. His gaze never leaves me. The crisp white fabric slides off his shoulders and falls to the stone floor. He unhooks his pants and shoves them down his thighs.
And then, he’s free.
His cock—thick, hard, throbbing with need—stands like a vow between us. Longer, heavier than it seemed before. My eyes widen, helpless to hide it. My breath catches. My pulse stutters.
He isall muscle and shadow, a brutal masterpiece, his chest heaving with his breath. Scars kiss his skin. Veins snake down his forearms. And his eyes, like dark, bottomless green pools, burn with something unholy.
My body tightens in response. My thighs twitch. Heat rushes through me like a wildfire. I know what’s coming. He’s going to fuck me now.
And there is nothing gentle, nothing soft in the way his jaw sets, his hunger sharpened into pure intent.
I’m going to die now. Just like he said.
Roman adjusts the ropes slightly, with care and attention, until I am in the best position. He doesn’t remove the spreader. My opening clenches, inner muscles opening and closing, preparing for him.
First, he cocks his head, closes the distance between us, and crushes his mouth to mine. I moan into his mouth. My tongue dances across his.
