Page 38 of Taken Online

Then, without warning, he shifted forward and pushed.

I cried out.

The stretch was sharp at first, pain blooming as he filled me slowly, deliberately. He didn’t stop. He didn’t rush. He watched me take him inch by inch, his hand gripping my thigh, holding me open.

“That’s it,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Good boy. You’re doing so fucking good.”

I tried to breathe, but the sensation of him inside me, deep and overwhelming, knocked the air out of my lungs. My body trembled around him, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else.

Something hotter. Heavier.

He was all the way in now. Fully buried. He didn’t move.

He waited, grounding me with the pressure of his chest against mine and his hand still curled loosely around my cock. His thumb brushed the leaking tip once, and I moaned.

“You feel this?” he whispered. “That stretch? That fullness? That’s me. Claiming what’s mine.”

He started to move.

Slow. Intentional. Grinding deep with each thrust like he wanted to reach something no one else had ever touched. My back arched and my mouth fell open, but no words came out, just broken gasps.

My wrists ached above me from how tightly I was pulling the restraints, but I didn’t want to be free. I wanted to be held like this. Taken like this.

Over and over, he drove into me. His rhythm building, steady, relentless. My cock throbbed between us, untouched, but I was already close. I was shaking, sweat slicking my skin, thighs quivering from the strain of holding myself open.

His eyes were darker than I ever seen them.

You can see the raw, unfiltered cruelty in his eyes when the mask slips. That’s the man I need. The one who will take me, use me like I’m nothing but his fucktoy.

Or maybe more…

I moaned louder, throat raw from it.

Blake grabbed my chin, forcing my head to tilt up, even through the blindfold. “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Better than I thought a needy little liar like you could.”

His pace picked up, brutal now. Wet slaps echoed in the dark. His cock hit that spot inside me over and over until I was babbling, begging, a mess of need and heat and surrender.

“Please,” I choked. “I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Come,” he ordered. “Now.”

And I did.

I came hard, ropes of it striping my stomach, my thighs, my chest, my whole body convulsing beneath him as he kept thrusting, dragging me through it. I screamed his name, throat hoarse and spent.

Moments later, Blake buried himself deep one last time, holding me down as he came inside me with a guttural growl, his whole body shuddering above mine.

We stayed like that, tangled, slick with sweat and come, his chest rising and falling against mine.

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

But I’d never felt more fucked.

Or more whole.

Fuck. Me.

Chapter Eleven

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