Page 52 of Deception

Who am I?His question from forever ago echoes in my thoughts, muting the rasp of my unsteady breaths while my heart cries to his.Own me. Keep me… Love me.

The longer I stand watching him peruse the majestic surroundings, the more obvious it becomes with my hammering pulse and the heat licking at my insides that as much as he needs my surrender, I crave his control. Tomasz wants to be my master, and I can’t pretend that I’m not his pet.

Like this. Alone. My entire being aches to bend to his. To be overpowered and possessed by him. It doesn’t matter that it shatters everything I’ve ever been. Because even if it hurts—tearing me apart as I slip the towel from my shoulders and watch it pool on the wood floor while my knees shake and my insides twist when they lower to the ground—it is the most natural action I’ve taken in so long. It’s the essence of every rule I’ve been taught my entire life.

You always bow to a king.

With my stare focusing on the knots of the wood beneath me, I flatten my hands to the floor and allow my hair to curtain the tears that swell on my lashes, scalding my skin as they fall heavily on my thighs.

Large feet come into view, and while I’m still tracing their length to the rolled hem of his jeans, Tomasz grasps my jaw, cupping the underside with his palm before tipping my face up to his.

There’s no softness or mercy. The dark shadow of the stubble on his jaw does nothing to buffer the sharp lines of his regal features. This king is a cruel monster. Vicious in his affections. Brutal in his punishments. From his ruthless heart to his savage soul.

“Do you know what you are doing?” he asks.

I’m on my knees, searching for the right thing to say when it’s really simple. “I have nothing left to lose.”

The life I had is gone. The girl I used to be is dead. My heart is twisted and choked by the weeds of his lust, and my soul is desperately searching for a home to belong to.

“There’s nothing left.”

With a twitch of his jaw, he audibly swallows down whatever remark is on the tip of his tongue and lifts me to my feet with nothing but his grip on my throat. We’re body to body, my cool flesh pressed to his warm skin while he tunnels his fingers into my hair and fists it in his large hands.

“You never run from me again. You don’t make a single move without my say-so.” Twisting his grasp until every follicle is on fire, he grimaces. “Because if you do…malyshka…I will bury you in the ground while your heart is still beating in your chest, and I’ll let the earth beneath our feet drown your screams.”

There’s no warning when he pulls me up onto my toes and descends on me at the same time. The scratch of his stubble on my face makes me shudder as his lips crush to mine, hard and unyielding in their assault until he rips away from me, throwing me on the bed. Tomasz peruses the length of my splayed body while he strips out of his jeans.

With his cock freed, he yanks me to the edge of the mattress by my ankles, a harsh prelude to the soft rake of his fingers down my legs and my thighs. Pulling the bolster cushion down to my arse to lift me higher, he aligns himself at my entrance.

“Please,” I beg as he shallows inside me, and in reply, he slaps the side of my arse.

It’s too hard to be playful and easy enough to be punishing. It’s a warning, reminding me of who is in control as his girth stretches me mercilessly.

With his thumb stroking lightly over my wet flesh, Tomasz teases the pleasure from deep inside me. The way he’s looking at me, tracing over every inch of my body while easing himself inside me, is different to every other time he’s touched me. Even when he grips my breasts, squeezing the flesh in his hands harder with every measured thrust…there’s more. A yearning that burns in his eyes, making my heart beat faster while he holds my stare and breathes in my moans.

“That’s it,” he groans, forcing himself deeper until the burning ache of his possession becomes a bone-deep crackle of pain.

Even in his gentleness, Tomasz is brutal. Holding still, he anchors me to him as I writhe and buck, trying to ease some of the fullness.

I’ve asked for this. Over and over and again. I’ve silently begged for him to tear me apart. At no point did I imagine it to feel like this. To love the pain or yearn for the pleasure that only he can give me.

“Make yourself come on my cock.” Trailing down from my breasts, Tomasz wraps his forearms around my thighs, holding me still, prisoning himself inside me—so deep, so thick, and so hard that my insides fray with the torturous agony of his intrusion.

My hand inches closer to the bottom of my belly. I’m so desperate for my release, and yet, when my fingertips graze my throbbing clit, I’m disappointed. My body is grieved. It craves his touch. Nothing else will do. Only him.

“I…I can’t.”

The sweat beading on his brow glistens in the faint glow of the outdoor lights, the golden tinge igniting the air around us as a long, desperate sob wracks from me.

“Who’s your master?” he asks, forearms tightening around my thighs as his hands close around the back of my knees and his nails cut into my flesh, the bite making my pussy clench around him.

This is what it comes down to. Who do I belong to?

The answer bursts from my lips without pause. “Y-you…you.” The sound of my voice is unrecognisable to me. Wet, desperate, and beseeching.

“I am, and I’m ordering you to make yourself come.” Inhaling a sharp breath, he shoves impossibly deeper without warning.

A scream pushes out of me. Shrill and tormented. Unhinged by his control.

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