His hand pushed me into the mattress. My every breath was stolen and was smothered by the familiarity of him.
His heat seeped into my skin, branding me. Burning me.
Sinful lips found my neck, teeth scraped as though tasting the leftovers of my resistance. It wasn't gentle, it wasn't kind-it was possession in its purest and most terrifying form. The jerks of his hips slowed, but the intensity burned hotter. Carving his name into my very marrow.
My body betrayed me, trembling under his as though pleading for something I couldn't name. Shame mixed with longing, a venomous cocktail that numbed everything but him.
"Mine," he growled lowly, voice wrapped in dark velvet.
My breath hitched. That word. It cut deeper than any of his thrusts, as if he wasn't ruining my body but my heart. I didn't dare speak. The look in his eyes warned me not to, even as the pulse between my thighs screamed otherwise.
He pulled back, just enough for me to catch my reflection in the shards of his gaze-wrecked, undone, unrecognizable. Not me. Definitely.
But he didn't let me look away. His fingers found my jaw, tilting my face to his. He searced my eyes. For something. I didn't know what. Salvation? Sin? It felt like both, twisted into something darker, something that made my chest ache.
His thumb brushed my bottom lip as he let his pale eyes roam my face, taking in my tears, my opened mouth and then my bruised lips. It didn't help how ruined he himself looked. Messy ahir, sweat dripping down his neck, slowly travelling to the sharp edge of his muscular chest and then sinfully tricking to where he entered me.
Yet, he was anything but destroyed.
His lips crashed against mine before I could blink, stealing the air from my lungs, my thoughts, my everything. It was rough, desperate, as if punishing me for something I didn't remember doing. Or maybe he was punishing himself.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and for the briefest moment, his eyes softened. Not enough to save me. Just enough to destroy me.
Salvation or pain. I'd take what he give me. I had to. There was no option.
I could feel his manhood still twitching inside of me. I expected him to withdraw when he finally orgasm, but when he started moving again, I was utterly speechless. I didn't recall for how long we'd been doing this, but I knew he wasn't done. And that terrified me.
I swallowed hard as he started rolling his hips. "J-Judas…"
He did not reply, instead he slid his hands under my shoulders cradling my hips against his upper arms and lifted me into a slightly different angle. He hardened inside of me again and I moaned unknowingly at the depth of his manhood as he began to gently explore me from this new angle.
I tugged harder at the cloth binding me. "It… It hurts, please..."
"It should," he grumbled softly as he tipped me down again, simultaneously pulling me closer and pinning me to the mattress. His brow furrowed and eyes fiery. "Look at me."
I gasped as he thrust again, this time slow and impossibly deep, his manhood stretching me to the edge of my limits. The angle he held me in forced me to feel every inch, every unrelenting motion, every ounce of control he refused to relinquish.
Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, and his gaze followed them, his frown deepening. He leaned closer, his lips hovering just above mine. "Что ты делаешь со мной, птичка?" he whispered darkly, "Твои слёзы не должны так сильно меня трогать."
(What are you doing to me, little bird? Your tears shouldn't bother me this much.)
There were no words for this. No words for the ache in my chest that matched the one between my thighs. I hated how he used Russian when all I wanted to do was understand him.
He rocked his hips again and let out a low growl. "Ты заставляешь меня сомневаться в себе,"
(You drive me insane.)
I gasped, and this time he again came inside me. I trembled as the warm seeds flowed through me. But he stayed inside me. The fact that there was still a butt plug inside and he was drilling my womanhood was painful. Hated how he stretched my holes and made me his in every sense of the word.
I closed my eyes, the shame of it all burning under my skin, as his body claimed me again and again. And he was right-I wasn't begging for an end. I was begging for the inevitable, for whatever twisted promise was hidden in the fire of his gaze.
And when I thought this was over, he pulled out, and his hand moved shamelessly between us and pulled the unforgiving plug with a pop. I whimpered as exhaustion and tiredness took over me. I dared not to look at his face. But soon I felt the tip of something cold on my core.
I instinctively flinched. But he was faster and stronger.
Tsking, he pushed the plug deep into my core as my back arched and breathing intensified. The plug was nothing compared to his size but he slipped in rather painfully.
The realisation that he just came inside me and I didn't have any time to clean up.
"Take-"
His hand found my mouth, clasping it shut. Pale eyes searched mine for a reaction he desperately craved. He did know what he was doing. And he was doing it intentionally. He grinned. Devil with no wings. A fallen angel if he ever had a face. And he leaned before whispering into my ear. "Let my cum soak your walls, little bird."