Page 48 of Jewel of the Assassin
I snap my teeth at him.
“Hmm…do I need to fetch a ball gag for you, moyo malenkoye cudoviste?My little monster.” He winks.
I glare at him. “No.” At least not yet.
“Horosho devochka.”
Did he just say ‘good girl’ in Russian?
Roman presses his lips to my forehead. My breath flares through my nose at the too-tender touch.
“Look at me,” he commands, then nudges the tip of his shaft against my anus.
When I defy him, looking everywhere but at him, he grips mythroat, sending a wave of heat through my pussy. Villainous vagina.
“Go to hell,” I spit again.
“You try my patience.”
“Fuck your patie—” My words turn to a wheeze, silenced by his grip.
He cocks his head as my cheeks pale and I struggle for air. But I don’t lose my glower. And I hate how good he is, how he knows just when to let go. I gasp and cough.
“No matter,” Roman says, lining himself up again. “I’ll have your eyes rolling to the back of your head soon enough.”
The wet crown slides back through my tight ring. I choke on a desperate, pained breath.
“Relax your muscles,” he purrs low in my ear. “Deep breaths, Valentina.”
I inhale and exhale slowly, deeply. Not because I want to obey him, but because I damn well know he’s done this many times. And doing anything my way will result in my ass hurting more.
He slides in another inch and another, and I whimper at the pressure searing the tight flesh. “Goddamn, Maya Valya, you feel glorious, fucking amazing.” He tips his head onto my shoulder and lightly kisses my pulse.
“Oh, trust me, amazing is the last thing I’m feeling.”
I try to focus on the physical sensations, the pain of his fullness inside me, and how every inch demands surrender. Not on that kiss. Not that position that reeks of raw intimacy I shouldn’t crave. How he can straddle the line of abuse and worship is beyond me. So beyond me.
Part of me aches to melt into it, to forget the walls I’ve slammed up.
He works himself deeper until he’s seated fully, thick and throbbing, buried to the hilt. I choke, my heart thundering in my chest as he slaps the side of the tub—once, twice, again—fighting for control. His muscles strain againstme, every inch of him coiled. A tremor shudders through him, his heart pounding against mine.
I hate this more. This brutal, maddening shred of vulnerability he lets me see.
Because it means he’s not a total monster. Oh, he’s still at least 99%. But that cursed one percent?
It’s the part that ruins me.
He raises his chin, and the vicious grin sends me right back to hating him. My ass squeezes uncontrollably, and he groans again, then starts to move.
Long, deep, and slow thrusts so I feel every inch of that monstrous cock. All the ridges, the silky hot skin, and I swear that dominant vein bulges through the organ.
I gasp as he hoists me higher in the swing, until the backs of my knees sit on his broad shoulders.
“Oh, God!” I shriek from the deeper position.
“Bloody Christ, you’re fucking unreal. Strangling my dick. And these gorgeous tits…”
Shifting his position, he lowers his head to close his mouth around my left nipple. Oh, God! Why are they more sensitive than ever? And redder? And more elongated?—oh, fuck. I glimpse the nipple suckers out of the corner of my eye.
