Page 141 of Jewel of the Assassin

Once tremors rack her body, reverberating along her back and bottom like a fine-tuned instrument, I adjusther, turning her over until she is face up. She spits at me. I tilt my head with a predatory grin.

“Brace yourself, Moya Koroleva.”

Without hesitation, I shift the chains. I loop them once around each full breast, tightening, securing until her tits are plumped, her nipples like little, rosy stones, ready for the degradation.

As I circle her, she clenches her thighs and her hands before softening. No protests. No struggles. No walls. Only surrender.

I fist her hair and yank her mouth to mine, crashing hard, stealing the breath from her lungs. “I will protect you, Valentina,” I say above her lips. “I will possess you. I will hurt you until I have all of you.”

Her eyes are glazed, lashes blotted with tears as she opens her mouth to say, “You have all of me, Master. So take it all.”

Take it all back.

I lower my mouth to her perfect breasts. She heaves so much, the chains strain, tightening and plumping those ripe tits more. I bite her nipples, pulling and elongating them to collect more cries until those pebbled buds are red, angry, and sore from my teeth.

When I lift my eyes to hers, I practically feel her gaze burning into my soul.

“Asshole,” she spits, trembling, and I chuckle darkly at the wetness dripping from her center.

“Oh, you should be far more concerned over your asshole, Maya Valya.” I smirk and take the rosary beads, savoring the hints of fear in her eyes. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, so sexually frustrated, my needy, little slut…” I part her cheeks.

At first, she clenches her anus, but all it takes is one sharp pinch on her lovely welted bottom.

“Ow! You goddamn bastard!” she groans and heaves, but after she wears herself out a little, she practically melts into the stone.

Slowly, I slide the rosary inside her dark hole, one bead at a time. Not too deep, not too many, considering there are fifty-nine. She moans the whole time, working hard not to squeeze too much.

I will use the other object soon.

For now…I unleash the rope whip upon her body. I slap it against her pussy again and again until the lips grow red and bloated, and sopping wet.

Her hisses, the way her cheeks heat, how she spits fire, they all get me so fucking hard, I know I’m going to lose it unless I do something drastic. And…it’s about goddamn time.

So, once I’ve whipped every inch of her exquisite flesh, once I’ve left my red imprints all over her body, once her nipples are swollen and inflamed as rubies, I bring the rope down with a single strike—right on my cock.

“Roman!” Valentina cries out, all her pain suddenly forgotten as her eyes migrate to the core of my masculinity.

Her eyes fill with tears. But I don’t stop. She knows why. The pain centers me, grounds me. She shares it, and she will help me reclaim from the trauma done to us. After three solid hits to my dick, it’s still throbbing like a son of a bitch. So I advance right to my wife’s side. She lifts her chin, arching her throat as much as possible, her eyes on my length. Gagging for it.

A flick of her eyes to mine, locking on. “Mine,” she snarls, staking her claim, opening her mouth. Everything I am will always belong to her.

So, I don’t hesitate. Gripping her hair, anchoring her in place, I slam my cock all the way to the back of her throat. A desperate sob breaks free, but she swallows me down, her throat tightening.

I give her the control, surrendering to her, granting her power. She bobs her head up and down, sucking, licking, eating.

I touch her everywhere. Fingers trailing down the curve of her throat, one thumb on the thrumming rhythm of her pulse, hands cupping her exquisite breasts. Fucking love the sight of them bound in the chains.

I’m close enough to lower my head. I sink my teeth aroundone taut bud while pinching the other, tormenting her. She squeals, her teeth scraping my hardness, but in a delicate way.

I pull out—and whip myself again. I sink into the dark trauma, then plunge back into the wet heat of her mouth, her impossibly tight throat constricting around me, healing me.

I repeat the process for the necessary amount of time. Because I counted those moments, the seconds that bled into minutes during the excruciating pain of the bitch who split me apart, the bitch lying down only several feet away, her tongue cut out, knife righteously shoved up her innards.

And when the clock runs out and the last grain of sand falls, my balls explode. I hammer my cock so deep into Valentina’s throat, but I come out at the last second and ejaculate all over her face and chest. She coughs from the vast amounts of cum in her mouth, but she still licks her lips, consuming every drop she can. I rub my cum along her stiff nipples and watch her breath hitch, her violet eyes heady beyond those lowered lashes, so tantalizing.

“Roman, Master, please.” She tries to buck, squeezing her thighs in a desperate “fuck me” gesture.

“Almost, Moya Samotsvet,” I assure her and take my place between her spread legs.