Page 84 of Merciless Desires

She jolts at the sound as her eyes snap to mine.

I take one measured step toward her, then another. Her eyes—wide and luminous—never waver from mine.

My cock is as hard as iron, my body primed for violence...or sex. She must die by morning. There can be no other outcome.

Wordlessly, I seize her arm and pull her to me. She struggles but my greater strength prevails.

I grip her chin hard, forcing her eyes to mine. I’m stunned by what I see. The naked longing in her eyes steals my breath.

I clamp my mouth over hers. She jerks in surprise but doesn’t pull away. My kiss is vicious, brutal, there’s not an ounce of tenderness in it as my tongue plunges greedily into her mouth, yet she melts against me with a muffled moan.

I expect her to continue to struggle, but she clings to me, her soft curves pressed to my hard body. The kiss is raw and carnal, teeth clicking, my mouth greedily devouring.

When I break it off, her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen from my assault. The triumph that blazes through me is bitter and pungent. I’ve breached the little dove’s defenses with a single kiss.

I pull my pistol from my shoulder holster and level it at her head.

"On your fucking knees," I command again.

She hesitates only a moment before complying. Her lips tighten, eyes burning with rage even as she sinks to the floor.

I grin wickedly, reveling in her submission, however unwilling.

"You know what I want. Do it."

Haltingly, she reaches for my belt. I shift my stance.

She slowly unbuckles my belt and unzips my pants, hands trembling. I let her fumble, enjoying her discomfort and fear as I keep my gun pointed at her temple.

My achingly rigid cock springs free, and her eyes widen at the sight of it jutting toward her lips, a bead of pre-cum on the flushed tip.

"Suck me."

Hesitantly, she wraps her fingers around my length and takes me into her mouth. I inhale sharply when her warm, velvety mouth envelops the tip of my cock.

Focus, I reprimand myself. This is about power and control. I tighten my grip on the gun, my resolve strengthening. As she works me with her lips and tongue, I bury my hands in her hair, guiding her pace. She sucks timidly at first, then with increasing confidence. I grit my teeth against the mounting pressure, determined to prolong this torture.

As I watch her lips glide wetly and noisily along my length, I feel strange emotions surfacing. Panic claws at me and roughly I wind her long hair around my fist, forcing myself deeper into her throat until she gags. The gun barrel kisses her cheek in warning—do not fight me, do not defy me.

She continues her ministrations, tears gathering on her lashes. I revel in her degradation. A sadistic haze clouds my mind, even as unfamiliar pangs of guilt twist my gut.

Suddenly, this doesn't feel like Viktory at all. I wrench her head back by her hair, pulling her off me. “Who do you belong to?”

When she refuses to answer, I slowly draw my belt from the loops with a soft hiss. Her eyes widen and dart toward the door. I see the calculations running behind those lovely eyes, the urge to flee this room, to take a chance.

Wisely she remains frozen, paralyzed by fear and something she doesn’t understand yet. I see it, though—the primal part of her that longs to surrender completely.

I wrap the belt loosely around her slender neck, watching her pulse flutter against the leather. Slowly, inexorably, I tighten the makeshift collar, watching her eyes gradually glaze and dilate.

“Who do you belong to?” I demand again softly.

She shudders, eyes sliding closed. Still resisting. I give the belt a warning tug and her eyes fly open, pupils blown with fearful arousal. I repeat the question, infusing my voice with quiet command.

“Y-you,” she rasps finally. “I belong to you.” The admission clearly pains her, but the words come nonetheless.

“Yes,” I hum, loosening the belt just slightly. “You are mine now. Never forget that.”

I step behind her, trailing fingers down the delicate curve of her neck.

---