Chapter 81 Eighty One

Chapter 81 Eighty One
Salvatore slowly inserts the gun, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain. Mira clenches her jaw, shivering as she fights against the moan bubbling at the tip of her tongue, determined not to give him the satisfaction. He pushes the weapon partway in before pulling it back to the edge. She can't believe he's trying to bury a gun inside her.

She inhales sharply, letting her head fall back, her disgust mingling with a dwindling sense of self-control. This situation is beyond messed up. It’s utterly twisted. Yet, as the gun retreats and thrusts in again, a sound escapes her as a wave of pleasure surges through her.

He breathes, "Good girl. Open wider, baby." His hand, still pushing her underwear aside, nudges her thigh, prompting her legs to part instinctively. Another praise follows, almost drowned out by the pounding of her heart. "I can feel how tight your pussy is . The way you grip my gun when it slides out—so intoxicating." She bites her lip, unable to stifle the next moan or the one after. The slick sounds echo as he moves the gun, shame washing over her in response. Embarrassment mixed with fear, but neither surpasses the pleasure drumming through her body.

Salvatore angles the gun just right, striking a spot that rolls her eyes back and sends a moan spiraling free. He responds with a growl, her back arching as he persistently hits that heaven-like spot. "There are so many things I've been wanting to do to you." Her panties gets unbearably wet and bites into her skin until he rips it away, the sound lost in another cry. Salvatore threw the torn fabric, freeing a hand to grip her thigh with intensity. Her heart leaps as he leans down, only to clamp his teeth on her inner thigh. She cries out from the sharpness of it but quickly moans with pleasure as he repeats the action. His mouth sucks and his movements quicken until she feels the start of an impending climax.

"Please," she begs, uncertain of what exactly she’s pleading for. He pauses only long enough to bite lower this time, still distant from her core. "Tell me who you belong to," he demands, gazing up at her, his mouth glistening from biting. The sight makes her heart plummet where the gun is deep inside her.

"That you're an asshole," Mira says, her voice trembling. He responds by biting down hard on her thigh, earning a pained cry from her. He loosens his grip, letting pain dissolve into pleasure. A primal noise escapes as he drives the gun deep

. "Do I need to ask again?" Her mouth opens, but no words come. Her silence hears his warning clearly as he cocks the gun. "Okay, okay, why are you acting this way," Mira breathes out in terror. "I'm yours.. I’m yours." The confession brings tears to her eyes because speaking them aloud makes her feel truly trapped by him.

"Who’s the only one allowed to touch you, Mira?" She closes her eyes, loathing the words ready to escape along with her tears. "You," she whispers, bitter words clogging her throat as a battle rages within. One side yearning for release and another wishing he'd turn the gun on himself. She glances at him and sees his awareness of her thoughts. "I want you to come now, calling my name. If not, we'll have a problem," he warns before nipping at her thigh again. "Now be a sweetheart and touch clit." Mira hesitates. The last thing she wants is to give him the satisfaction of making her come and worse yet helping him do it. He doesn’t deserve it. Yet despite her body's desperate need, her mind rebels against the idea.

"Now," he growls with carnal and dangerous intensity in his eyes. Cursing under her breath, she reaches down to circle clit with trembling fingers, terrified of what he might do if she doesn't comply. "You're such a good girl," he whispers. With two more thrusts of the weapon, she’s pushed over the edge, her body arching off the bed as an intense orgasm overtakes her. She screams, feeling the sound vibrating through her throat even as it grows hoarse. But she can’t hear it amidst the fire and ice consuming her being, seeing nothing but heaven ahead. The gun drives in faster and deeper, extending the climax until she’s literally begging for mercy. He finally withdraws it, and her thighs snap shut instantly as the final waves of pleasure recede.

She’s left trembling, overwhelmed by the aftermath.
Salvatore stood there, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. Mira glanced up through half-lidded eyes, her body still twitching from the tremors, as he lifted the gun and placed the barrel in his mouth.
It felt surreal.
She watched in stunned silence as he ran his tongue along the barrel before pulling the gun away and tucking it into the back of his jeans.
Her body was aflame with rage, humiliation, and shame.
“It’s time for you to go to bed,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
Mira stood unsteadily, struggling to find her footing. She couldn’t speak. Not after everything that had just happened. Not after the way he had reduced her to nothing but a trembling mess.
She slowly made her way toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last.
“Mira.”She stood there frozen. “I wouldn’t have killed you,” Salvatore said calmly. “The gun wasn’t loaded. It was just a fake.”
Her fingers curled into fists.

Her jaw tightened as she stared at the door, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly his words had shaken her.
“A fake gun,” she repeated bitterly, finally turning to face him. “You think that makes what you did okay?”

Salvatore remained where he was, his expression unreadable.
“No.” The simple answer caught her off guard.
She stared at him. “Then why?”
Mira stared at him, her chest still rising and falling heavily as she tried to control the anger burning through her.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and watched her carefully, his expression almost too calm for what he had just put her through.
“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling with frustration. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Why what?” Salvatore asked, as though he genuinely didn’t understand her anger. “It’s fun, Mira. Besides, that way you don’t get any crazy thoughts in your head.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed. “And you decided to teach me that lesson by making me believe you were going to kill me?”

“I wouldn’t kill you.” A faint smile appeared on his lips. “You’re far too precious for me to kill.”
Her chest tightened with anger, and she clenched her fists at her sides.