Page 124 of Cruel Juliet

The thought makes me wet in seconds.

Petyr’s hand lingers on me. His touch is firm, controlled. Stay,he’s telling me.

I don’t even think of disobeying.

He spanks me again. My skin burns where his palm landed, a dull ache that turns into a hum beneath the surface. I can feel my pulse everywhere, a dull throbbing that shoots straight between my legs.

“Count them,” he orders. “We’re at five now.”

“Five,” I gasp.

I can practically hear his smirk. “Good girl.”

His palm cracks against my ass, lighter this time, as if to reward me. But the change in pressure and pace is brutal, and I only feel it more.

“S-Six,” I whimper.

The blows keep coming. I keep counting out loud, but my mind isn’t in it. I’m lost. My thoughts blur, and all that’s left is the rhythm of his hand and the sound of my own breathing.

When he finally stills, I’m trembling. I don’t move. I don’t want to.

He leans closer. His breath grazes my neck. “You get it now, little fox?” I nod frantically, but I must have answered too quickly, because he only pinches my aching cheeks in response. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.” I swallow. “Only you.”

Something in him shifts. The tension in the air is changing, a different kind of charge.

His hand slides down my side. The touch is softer now. He traces the edge of my thigh, so feather-light I’m close to begging. I want to feel him. I need it so bad I’m in tears.

Then, finally, his fingers slip between my legs.

“Fuck,” he curses. “So wet already.”

I’m so wired up I can barely think straight. The first brush of his thumb against my clit makes me jump in his lap. It feels too good, too fast.

I roll my hips and whine. “Petyr, please.”

“‘Please’ what,lisichka?”

“Fuck me,” I gasp.

But he doesn’t. Not yet. Instead, he pushes knuckle-deep inside me and pumps two fingers in and out.

“Please,” I moan again. “I won’t run. I promise.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

But I can tell that he does. He just wants to make me work for it. To brand it into my mind—how good it feels to be touched by him. What I’m passing up if I leave.

“Please,” I repeat, because I’m too far gone to think of anything else. “I love you. I’m not gonna—ah!”

Petyr buries three fingers inside me. His throat works around a low rumble, so dark with want I’m trembling already. I know what comes next. I can feel it.

His fingers slip out of me. The emptiness is unbearable, but then he’s lifting up my hips, higher and higher. I hear the clink of his belt, his zipper.

When he spears inside me, I’m so lost I nearly come.

“Blyat’.” He pushes the head in with no restraint, then the rest. Inch by inch, I feel his cock stretching me full, a sweet drag against my walls. “You dirty little fox.”