Page 78 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)
“You were worried about my discomfort ?” I breathe.
“You, the guy who’s been making cuts against my very flesh, biting me, and spanking me ‘til I’m bruised and bloodied is worried about a little discomfort ?
” I bark a mirthless laugh, refusing to accept such an excuse.
He reaches his bloodied palm toward my face and in the moonlit area I can confirm what he’s done, but I don’t flinch away when he brushes my hair from my forehead and cups my face.
“I want you to enjoy this, Sydney. It’s still your first time and I want you to like it, so if I have to bleed to make that easier for you .
. . then I will .” His words are sweet, but his thrusts aren’t, even as he shoves in another couple of inches.
I feel every piercing as they skim past my entrance.
“Holy shit,” I whimper.
“I know, baby,” he coos, “but you can take it. We’ve got a few more inches to go, so you’d better brace yourself.”
Lucien’s hand leaves my cheek as he shoves in another inch, and I practically come on the spot. He’s so goddamn big, not to mention the jewelry that’s pressing against my inner channel.
“Come on, you’re Sydney Sinclair. I know you can take it. Breathe through it.”
I take his advice and suck in a deep breath.
For a moment, I’m relaxed. Then he tells me to bite down, and I know shit is about to take a dark turn. He shoves a nearby stick into my mouth like a horse’s bit.
“I’m going to prove to you that you’re good enough,” Lucien grunts. “You’ve conquered everything I’ve given you. If you can win against me, you can take on the whole goddamn world, Princess. Now take this cock like a good fucking slut !” With the last word, he shoves fully to the hilt.
His hip bones slap against my ass, and I see stars. Constellations. Hell, galaxies. I think I discovered the meaning of life: anal sex.
“Fuck, yes, I can take it,” I moan around the stick. “I’m a good slut.”
He barely lets me accommodate him before he’s riding my anus like I’m a mustang and I buck beneath him like the wild mare I am.
“Let me hear you say it,” he demands. “Who are you?”
“I’m Sydney. Fucking. Sinclair,” I growl around the stick.
“Fuck, if it’s tight now, I can just imagine how tight that pussy is gonna be when I fuck it next,” he groans, before slicing another cut into my back, this time near my shoulder, licking at his wound while he fucks me into the ground. “You’re mine. All fucking mine ,” he growls.
All I can do is whimper as his words sweep across me like thousand dollar silk, his encouraging words and degrading actions melding into one mind-numbing explosion.
Everything burns. Everything hurts. But it also feels so fucking good.
Synapses and nerve endings are firing off everywhere.
I feel him everywhere . A second later, a moaning roar rips through me, dug from somewhere deep within my core.
Tears flood my eyes, my vision blurring from the blinding pleasure.
“Oh my God, yes!” I scream to the heavens, coming harder than I have all night. The wooden bit falls from my mouth and my arms give out as I collapse to the ground.
A beat passes while we wait for our heart rates to slow and our breathing to return to normal, his body slumped over mine.
“You belong to me, right?” Lucien asks.
“Yes,” I answer, my body languid and boneless as I come down.
He slowly pulls out of me, and I wince, feeling each nub of the rounded metal rods as they exit.
“Last chance,” Lucien says. He draws in a long breath. “Is there anything you wouldn’t let me do to you?”
“No.” I don’t even have to think about it. I prop myself back up to all fours.
“So, if I asked you to . . .” He pretends to think about something, but judging by his expression, he already has something in mind. “Would you let me pee on you? Would you let me mark you as mine right here in this forest so every living creature can know you’ve been claimed?”
“Yes.” It’s a soft whisper I’m not even sure I meant to say. But already it sounds more like the truth than anything else.
He moves to stand over me. “Speak up, Princess. Nice and loud, so the whole goddamn forest can hear you. Yes, you’ll let me piss on you, or no?”
“Yes,” I say a little louder this time. If I really thought about it, I’m sure I could talk myself out of it, but right now, at this moment, I want him to do it. I want every part of him I can get.
Staring down at me like he is, it’s hard to discern his expression. He could be disgusted, intrigued, or turned on, but for all my efforts, I can’t determine his face.
Shit, was he joking? Was this another test?
I open my mouth to take it back, but then he says, “Gotta say, I’ve never gotten to pee on a princess before. I’m actually kind of nervous.” He cocks his head in an appraising way. “But I want you to really mean it, Sydney. If you want it, I want you to tell me you do. Beg for it.”
That’s so like him. Push you to your breaking point, then tell you to take one more step.
“Yes, Lucien—please, I want it. I want you . . . to pee on me.”
Lucien stands up, his bloodied cock pointed at me. I bow my head and breathe through the haze of lust and deprivation.
If I thought I was a filthy whore before, I had no idea what I was talking about.
Damp, tangled hair falls over my shoulders, cuts and bruises wrack my body, dirt sticks to my skin, arousal leaks from my pussy, and his warm piss trickles against my back, over my ass, down my pussy and my thighs to my knees that stick in the mud of our own making beneath me.
I am filthy , but I am his, all fucking his .