Page 59 of Crown of Blood

"I wanted to know," she finally gasps, hips jerking involuntarily against the vibrator. "About Elena. About—about you."

There it is. The truth. Not from her lips—but from her body.

I switch off the vibrator, letting her hang there, panting and trembling with unfinished need. I remove it carefully, setting it aside.

"Was that so hard?" I ask, coming to stand before her again. "All I ever want from you is honesty, Bianca. Nothing less."

My hands find the clasp of my belt, the sound of leather sliding through the loops loud in the silence between us. My slacks follow, pooling at my feet along with my boxers, freeing the rock hard cock that's fucking aching for her.

I move behind her again, hands gripping her hips as I position myself.

With deliberate care, I take hold of the base of the plug and begin to work it free, watching the way her body clenches, trying to hold onto it even as I pull it away.

When it finally slides free, I set it aside and deliver another sharp slap to her already sensitive ass.

She cries out, jerking forward.

I guide her toward the padded bench in the center of the room, unclipping her restraints from the overhead chain but leaving the cuffs in place. I position her across it, chest pressed to the leather, ass raised, wrists secured to the loops at the front.

“You want to come?” I whisper.

“Yes,” she gasps, wrecked. “Please.”

“Beg me. Tell me what you are.”

“I’m your filthy little traitor,” she chokes. “Your whore. Your toy. Please—fuck me, Luca. Fuck me.”

"You like knowing secrets?" I align myself with her entrance, rock-hard and ready to claim what's mine. "Then feel this one—this cock is your punishment."

I enter her in one swift thrust, burying myself to the hilt.

She's tight, slick, perfect as she clenches around me, a moan torn from her throat that sounds like surrender.

My pace is punishing from the start—no mercy, no gentle build. Just possession. My hand finds her throat, angling her head back as I lean over her, driving into her with a force that rocks the bench against the floor.

"Moan louder," I command, tightening my grip just enough to make her gasp. "Let the whole fucking house hear how you beg to be used."

Her sounds are music—desperate, broken cries that match each thrust. I feel her tightening around me, building toward release, and I grind deeper, changing the angle to hit the spot I know drives her wild.

"Mine," I growl against her ear. "Say it. Say who fucks you like this. Say who breaks you open."

"Yours," she gasps, voice cracking as her body begins to tremble with her approaching climax. "I'm yours, Luca. Only yours."

Her orgasm ripples through her, inner walls clenching around me in violent pulses. I don't slow down, driving her through it and into another, extending her pleasure until she's sobbing with the intensity of it.

Only then do I allow my own release, spilling inside her with a groan that comes from somewhere primal and possessive. Marking her from the inside out, claiming her in ways no file or record ever could.

After, when we're both spent and trembling, I carefully withdraw from her. I unfasten the cuffs, rubbing life back into her wrists, then finally remove the blindfold.

Her eyes blink up at me, dazed but clear—no fear, no regret.

Just acceptance... and something else. Something that makes my chest tighten.

I lift her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I carry her to the small adjoining bathroom. The tub fills quickly with steaming water scented with oils that will ease the ache in her muscles.

I lower her in carefully, then slide in behind her, pulling her back against my chest.

"You thought this was about punishment," I murmur against her temple, pressing a kiss there that contradicts the brutality of moments before. "But it's not."

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