Page 8 of Brutal Union (Ruthless Mafia Kings #8)

"You can," I murmur against her, thrusting my fingers deeper, hitting that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "You will."

Her breathing is ragged now, her body taut like a bowstring. I can feel the tension coiling in her belly, the way her muscles flutter around my fingers. One more stroke—one more suck—and she’ll shatter.

So I stop.

Her eyes fly open, dazed and desperate. "No—no, no, please?—"

“I am going to need to get you a better gag. You keep talking.” I smirk up at her, withdrawing my fingers slowly, watching her clench around nothing.

She lets out a frustrated sob, writhing beneath me. "You’re cruel. "

I pull away, standing up and looking down at her. Her eyes are pleading, but I can see the fire in them, the defiance that fights to submit to me. “You want more?” I ask, my voice dark and teasing.

She narrows her eyes at me and I can’t help but laugh. “If you didn’t have an attitude I would just give it to you, but since you want to be a brat.” I say, my hand trailing down her body to tease her entrance. “Beg for it.”

“Sho-” she snaps.

I click my tongue, dipping my pointer finger inside her to the knuckle. “That doesn’t sound like begging.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, her hips bucking against my hand. “Please,” she manages to mumble, the word muffled but clear enough.

“Please what?” I ask, my fingers sliding inside her, feeling how wet she is for me.

“Please fuck me,” she says, her voice desperate. Her mouth is a mess as she fights not to disobey and spit the panties out.

I pull my fingers out, smirking as I rub her arousal over my pulsing member. “Since you asked so nicely,” I say, lining myself up with her entrance.

“Deep breath in,” I instruct, my voice low, and steady, despite the overwhelming need to be inside her. To be fucking consumed by her.

But of course, my stubborn girl cocks her head defiantly, eyes narrowing, mouth opening like she is about to say something that’s going to get her in trouble, and as much as I love the pink of her ass. I need to be inside her, and I can’t punish her without punishing myself .

So I shut her up the only way I know she can’t resist.

I push into her slowly, burying myself inch by inch until her breath catches and her eyes go wide.

The sound she makes around the gag—muffled, desperate—is music.

Her tightness grips me like a vice, her body already trembling beneath the pressure, trying to move, to squirm, to resist what she was made to take.

But I don’t let her.

I hold her hips in place, firm and unrelenting, forcing her to stay still, to feel every deliberate stretch of me inside her. Her legs twitch, her back arches, and I lean over her, mouth brushing her ear.

“Breathe, baby,” I whisper. “You can’t run from this. Not from me.”

She moans again, the sound raw and soaked in need, and I can feel the war inside her—between defiance and surrender.

“You’re not breathing,” I growl, my hands gripping her hips as I start to thrust into her. “If you can’t control your breathing, I’ll control it for you.”

Her eyes widen, and she makes a show of taking in a deep breath, through her nose but as I push myself into the hilt she shudders out a moan.

Her body clenches around me, tight and desperate, and I groan low in my throat, savoring the way she tries to fight it, tries to resist the pleasure I’m forcing on her.

“Good girl,” I murmur, my voice rough with approval. “Now keep breathing. In… and out.”

I pull back slowly, dragging myself almost all the way out of her, and she whimpers, her hips twitching as if to chase me. But I don’t let her. I hold her still, my fingers digging into her soft skin, and then I thrust back in, hard and deep, making her gasp.

“In… and out,” I repeat, my voice a low command. “Do it.”’

She obeys, her chest rising and falling as she tries to match her breaths to my rhythm.

But it’s hard for her, I can tell. Every time I sink into her, she loses control, her breath hitching, her body trembling.

And I love it. I love how much she struggles to keep up, how much she wants to please me even as she fights against it.

I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear again. “You can do better than that, can’t you, little slut?”

I shift my weight, pulling her hips up higher, changing the angle just enough to make her cry out. Her hands flex and stretch despite her restraint, as I start to move faster, harder, driving into her with a relentless pace that leaves no room for thought, no room for anything but sensation.

“Breathe,” I command again, my voice sharp now, demanding. “In… and out.”

She tries, she really does, but it’s impossible for her to keep up with the way I’m fucking her.

Her breaths come in short, ragged gasps, her body writhing beneath me as I push her closer and closer to the edge.

I can feel it building in her, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until she’s trembling with it, her muscles clenching around me in a way that makes my own control waver.

But I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Not until she breaks.

“ Come on, Hime ,” I growl, my voice thick with need. “I want you to cum all over my cock. ”

She shakes her head, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips pressed together in a thin line as if she’s trying to hold it back. But I won’t let her. I reach down between us, my fingers finding her clit and rubbing hard, fast circles that make her cry out.

“Sho!” she gasps, her body arching off the bed as the first wave of pleasure crashes over her. “I—I can’t ? —”

“Yes, you can,” I say, my voice firm but gentle now. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

And she does. With a broken sob, she comes apart beneath me, her body convulsing as the orgasm rips through her. Her legs wrapping around my waist as she pulls me deeper into her, as if she can’t get enough of me even now.

I let out a low groan, my own control slipping as I feel her tighten around me, her walls fluttering in a way that drives me wild. I thrust into her once, twice more, and then I’m coming too, my release spilling into her as I bury myself as deep as I can go.

I pull out of her, watching as she lies there, panting and trembling. Her eyes meeting me, as she tries to gather the rest of her breath.

“You were such a good girl for me, little brat,” I say, my voice soft but still laced with dominance.

“I couldn’t be bad with my hands tied and mouth gagged,” she hisses out, deep breaths coming out in sharp gusts.

“Mmm, I believe you could if you tried hard enough,” I wink, getting up to pick up my slacks off of the floor.

“Is that a challenge?” She narrows her eyes, shifting her weight to her knees.

I slide my shirt back on. “No. I like your attitude, Hime. ”

“And what does Hime mean again?” She questions, trying to shift more comfortably on her knees, the restraints around her wrists making her posture rigid.

I start to button up my shirt. “I never told you, but nice try.”

"Hmm," she shifts slightly, testing the bonds. “I can’t help but notice you’re getting dressed.”

“Yeah,” I nod, as I finish buttoning up my shirt, then step back over to her.

“And are you going to release me?” She chuckles, still on her knees, wrists bound behind her back, blonde hair mussed, lips swollen, skin flushed from everything I just did to her. She looks like chaos incarnate—and still manages to look regal. My fucking queen, even when she’s tied up and wrecked.

“Nope,”I lean down and press a slow kiss to her cheek. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away.

“You can’t be serious. Are you leaving me here like this?” she asks, voice low but dangerous, venom wrapped in velvet.

“You know, we need to teach you not to speak with a gag in your mouth,” I wink, sliding my jacket over my shoulders.

“I am not playing with you-”

“I’m not playing with you either.” I grin, brushing a strand of damp hair off her face. “I can’t let you go all soft and relaxed. You’d catch me too easily.”

Her eyes flash. “Sho.”

“I need a head start,” I murmur, lips brushing her ear. “So you don’t kill me the second you can move.”

“You wouldn’t dare. ”

“I would.” I smirk, walking over to her phone next to the window and text her name to my own phone, that buzzes in my pocket.

Her whole body tenses. “You’re fucking insane.”

“And you love it,” I laugh and walk toward the door, unhurried, like I don’t feel the weight of her fury licking at my spine.

Hand on the doorknob, I glance back over my shoulder—she’s glaring now, teeth bared, wrists straining against the restraints like she might rip the damn couch apart.

“See you next time, little brat.”

Then I’m gone, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear her scream echo through the penthouse, feral and furious. And fuck, it’s music to my ears.