Page 30 of Corrupting Camille

“I…” My voice fractures again, shaking with desperation and shame. “I need you inside me.”

His gaze narrows, demanding more. It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

“Tell me why,” he murmurs, voice smooth, dark silk sliding over sharp steel. “Convince me you deserve it.”

Tears prick hot behind my eyes. My chest heaves, breath ragged, as humiliation crashes through me in waves. Still, I force myself to speak, filthy, needy, shamelessly honest.

“Because I’m fucking empty,” I sob softly, tears spilling down my face. “Because I’m aching, throbbing, because I can’t breathe without feeling you stretching me, hurting me, owning me. Because nothing else matters. I need you to fuck me raw, to break me apart, to punish me. Please…” my voice cracks, desperate, ugly, real, “…I want you to fuck me until it hurts, until I can’t walk, until I remember exactly who owns my body. I want your cock more than my pride, more than air. I need to feel you ruin me, again and again, until there’s nothing left.”

His eyes darken, satisfied, victorious. He leans forward, cupping my chin, tilting my face up until our eyes lock, his thumb stroking roughly over my trembling lower lip.

Kane

There it is.

That last flicker of fight extinguished. Her voice wrecked. Her pride…bleeding out on the floor. Her body…mine.

I watch her crumble beneath the weight of her own honesty, that mouth finally spewing the truth I knew she’d choke on eventually.

“I want your cock more than my pride…”

Fucking beautiful.

On her knees.

Wrecked. Shaking. Tear-streaked and flushed. Her lace is twisted around her thighs, soaked through, and she’s staring up at me like I’m salvation and damnation wrapped in one brutal hand.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make my cock twitch.

But I don’t just want her mouth. I want her trained.

I want to teach her how to breathe around me. How to surrender fully. How to take every inch with tears in her lashes and gratitude in her throat. I want her to know that every breath she takes from this point forward, every single one…is mine to give… or deny.

“Come closer,” I murmur, voice steady, low, laced with promise and warning.

She obeys instantly, crawling forward on shaky hands, her desperation palpable.

I wrap a hand in her hair, firm but not violent, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. “You don’t get to rush this,” I say, stroking her jaw with my thumb. “I’m going to teach you how to take me.Every inch. Every breath. You’ll learn to open up for me like a good girl and when I’m finished, you’ll never forget what it feels like to be owned from the inside out.”

Her lips part, pink and swollen. Her eyes are glossy, full of hunger and fear and need.

I pull my cock into my hand, slowly stroking the length. Thick. Veined. Already dripping for her. I let the head brush her lips, painting her with pre-cum.

“Tongue out,” I command softly. “Nice and wide.”

She obeys, trembling. I slide the tip across her tongue, slow and indulgent, then push a little deeper, just enough to make her lips stretch, to feel the heat of her mouth begin to wrap around me.

“That’s it,” I breathe, hand tightening slightly in her hair. “Nice and easy. We’re going to take our time. You’re going to learn exactly how Daddy wants it.”

She gags a little, instinctively pulling back. I stop her with a gentle tug, forcing her eyes back to mine.

“No. You stay.” My voice is calm, but it cuts like steel. “You don’t run from the ache. You take it. You breathe through it. For me.”

I ease in again, deeper this time, until she’s gagging softly, lips stretched, spit starting to gather at the corners of her mouth. Her fingers curl against my thighs, nails digging into my skin.

“Slow your breathing,” I murmur, stroking her hair back from her face, oddly tender even as I hold her on my cock. “In through your nose. Relax your throat. I’ll tell you when to breathe.”

She chokes once. I let her pull back just an inch. Just enough to catch her breath. Then I drag her back down.