Page 80 of That Sik Luv

“Good girl.”

I practically whimper at his praise before he guides his cock into my mouth. He allows me to move my neck while he stands still, wetting him by licking the pierced tip, then mouthing the entire, engorged length. I swallow as much of him as I can, holding him at the back of my throat until I need to pull off to breathe.

“Fuck, just like that,” he says, gripping the hair at my crown, forcing himself deep again.

He holds the leash with an arm behind him, pulling it as he picks up the pace until I’m literally being pulled forward to swallow his cock and he’s effectively fucking my throat.

“Swallow your cock, slut,” he demands. I moan around him, the words so vile, demeaning, and entirely too attractive for the submissive doll I’ve become. “Take your punishment.”

After bringing himself to the edge, almost losing at his own game, he pulls out of my mouth, gazing down at the teary, wet mess beneath him with fire in his eyes. He slaps his cock against my cheek before pushing it back between my lips. He repeats this process, pulling out, slapping me, then throat fucking me again. Toying with himself. Toying with me.

“Aero,” I whine, craving my own release as he rubs the piercing across my lips, a drop of cum leaking onto my tongue. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asks, cocking a brow.

“Give me what I need,” I cry.

His infamous smirk pulls at his lips before he leans down closer to me. His arm wraps back around behind me, his fingers slipping beneath my shorts until he brushes against my arousal, slipping a finger deep inside. “Oh yeah, you’re ready,” he says, eyes darkening with his own hunger. “God, you’re so amazing, Bri. My dirty little doll. Let’s make you filthy, yeah?”

In a quick motion, he releases the leash, pushing me back against the bed, my wrists burning from the friction of the rope. He grabs my ankle and flips me onto my stomach. The cock gag fills my mouth again as he straps it back on, tighter than before. Ripping the shorts down my legs, he wastes no time in pulling me to my knees, smashing my exposed breasts into the mattress before me, and spreading my legs before him.

He runs the crown of his dick along the sopping mess between my legs, cursing at the sensation. Without warning, he pushes into me from behind, driving deep. I try to scream around the gag, my pussy spasming around his thickness as he stills, attempting to calm himself for me.

My cries are silenced by the silicone cock down my throat, while he slips out, then back in deep at a slow and torturous rate.

“They took away your voice, but remember I’m the one to make you scream.” he whispers as his hands explore.

Fingers mold to my skin, touching every available surface before him as his own. Running down my spine, up the backs of my thighs, over the curves of my hips. Gripping into the flesh near my hips, he pulls me back into him, my wetness spreading across his lower abdomen. His thrusts pick up again and my body ignites with explosive electricity at each powerful collision.

It doesn’t take long. The inability to talk as I swallow one cock while being filled with another has me spiraling into a dirty pool of desire. I feel naughty and used in the way that I crave. I want to take the disadvantages of being seen only as an object and a woman of no worth and own it as my own under the direction of Aero. Turning our pain into pleasure.

I tighten myself, my muscles seizing up as I close in on my release. He must sense it because he spits down onto my ass, his saliva dripping down the crack, rubbing my entrance before gently popping his thumb inside.

A low groan rumbles through my chest as my eyes roll back into my head. It’s too much. It’s overwhelming. I’m on sensory overload, and the fire within the pit of my belly is burning wild, requiring an escape with the heat of my arousal.

The sexiest moan leaves his throat, and the sound, plus the fact that he’s got every hole of mine filled the way he intended, using me as his own dirty doll, has me cresting the wave of the most intense orgasm.

“Now,” he demands, sounding short of breath. “Cum—ah, fuck—cum on me, filthy girl.”

We lose ourselves in each other, coming undone at the same time. My body explodes as fire travels along my spine and I feel his hips flex hard against mine, his body convulsing behind me as my face grinds into the mattress beneath us.

We explore and test our limits, needing fear and pain to drive the pleasure, and we fall hard into our heaven, gasping together until we find ourselves back on this earth.

Lying in his bed together after cleaning up, my cheeks flush as I go over the last few hours in my head again.

The way he cares for me after sex is nothing short of beautiful, going entirely against the nature of his character. He cleaned me in the bathtub as I sat between his legs, soft kisses littering my neck and ears as gentle hands massaged my tender muscles, discussing my techniques and what could make me a more skilled assassin. He cooked for me, feeding me yet another protein-filled meal. He tells me to worship my body as the temple it is, keeping me strong and focusing on foods that enrich rather than destroy.

Tucking me into the bed alongside him, he cares for me, ensuring I’m warm and comfortable. He gives me aspirin with a glass of ice water before bed, knowing the discomfort that comes from training all day, followed up by a round of aggressive lovemaking.

He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered. He expresses himself through pain. Pulling hair and yelling obscenities is his own personal cocktail of love. He’s just never learned how to embrace the proper form of love. Chaos is his only emotion, and knowing that, I feel I’m the only one who can understand him.

He strokes the damp hair off my face, playing with the strands as he studies me yet again, the look in his eyes one of love and admiration, even if he doesn’t know what that means.

I know the look because I’m emitting it right back to him. Aero has said that I am his existence. That he can’t breathe without me. But I can’t live without him. I would be nothing without him. My heart has caved for the man that is without one. I love how protective he is. How he’s literally spent his life waiting for me, silently watching me from afar, waiting until the time came when they’d want to eliminate his flower that hadn’t yet bloomed.

“Aero,” I whisper, blinking my tired eyes nervously.

“What is it?” he asks, concerned already.

---