Page 58 of Malicious Claim (Dark Inheritance #1)

Bound for Him

"Strip," Makros said, his voice rough and almost strained.

Leila didn't hesitate or stop to think. Her body had been burning for him since the morning ride, a slow, aching need she refused to deny any longer. She craved a different kind of ride now, one that would have her screaming his name and dripping with pleasure.

As she reached for the thin straps of her nightgown, her fingers trembled, not from hesitation but from the weight of anticipation.

She slipped one strap off her shoulder, letting it slide down her arm before freeing the other.

The fabric glided over her skin, catching briefly against the swell of her breasts before finally free falling at her feet.

Makros' jaw tightened as he watched her. His cock stiffened in his pants, reacting instantly to the sight of her. No matter how many times he had seen her naked, those full, firm breasts never failed to set him on fire.

Leila's fingers curled around the edges of her panties, hesitating for a brief moment as a flicker of innocence tried to surface, but she silenced it. She slid them down slowly, deliberately, then stepped out of them without breaking eye contact.

She didn't cover herself or shy away. She stood there, bare, letting him feast his eyes as they roamed over every inch of her body.

Makros took his time, keeping her waiting, keeping her on edge. He moved in slow circles around her, his gaze devouring every inch.

"Stop following me with your gaze," he said, and her head went still, as if his words had cast a spell over her.

Makros moved behind her and delivered a sharp smack to her ass. His palm struck in an upward motion, making her tense. Stepping in front of her, he seized her jaw in a rough grip.

"You still looking at me," he growled.

"N—no," she whispered.

He spat on her face, the act both shocking and thrilling her. "Dirty liar," he muttered.

He let go of her jaw and strode toward the equipment table. Leila almost followed him with her eyes but caught herself just in time. Instead, her mind raced with guesses about what he would choose.

"He's going for the flogger... the gag, maybe... or the spreader bar!?"

She couldn't have been more wrong. When Makros stepped back into view, he held a coil of red cotton rope.

She shifted on her feet, a strange sensation curling in her chest. It was closer to anxiety than fear, but whatever it was sent a brief, tingling rush through her body.

"Back against the cross," Makros ordered.

Her feet carried her forward, and she turned, pressing her back against the St. Andrew's Cross. The wood was solid beneath her, its edges slightly rough. It didn't hurt, but it heightened her awareness, making her skin tingle.

He began by looping the rope around each breast, pulling it snug until it pressed between them, tightening with each pass.

"Arms up, come on, come on!"

He took her wrist and lifted it, wrapping the rope around her with practiced ease.

With a sharp pull, he tightened it, the pressure biting into her skin.

The restraint forced her pulse to slow, to steady.

He gave another tug, harder this time, securing the loop.

A dull ache settled in, deep but manageable.

"Other hand."

Leila lifted her arm, and he secured it just as tightly. The pull of the restraints forced her shoulders back, making her chest rise. There was no going back now.

Once he had firmly secured her arms overhead, he retrieved a gag—the one with a red ball and black straps.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, slapping both of her cheeks with the front and back of his palm.

Stepping behind her, he positioned the gag over her mouth, the straps pressing against her cheekbones as he pulled them around to the back of her head. He tied it securely, catching even a few strands of her hair in the knot.

Leila tested the ropes binding her arms to the cross, her wrists tugging instinctively. Her head turned from left to right, breath growing heavy, sending tremors through her body.

"Spread your legs," his voice commanded again. She obeyed, but not nearly enough.

His boot nudged her ankle, forcing her legs wider. "Stand on your toes. Hold still. Yeah, keep it steady."

Her breath caught as the rope coiled around her feet, binding her on her toes. Now, she was restrained from all sides. Exposed. Utterly at his mercy.

"Comfortable?"

She nodded.

His fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her head back just enough for his breath to ghost against her ear. "No more smart mouth now, Leila?"

"Yes, Makros." The reply stayed locked in her head, unheard but echoing in her mind.

She had been gagged for a while now, and spit dribbled from her mouth.

"You're drooling. Good."

He spat on her face and breast, his hands smearing the wetness over her skin, leaving it glistening. Then, without warning, he squeezed her breast hard. The pressure, combined with the tight rope encircling it, sent a sharp pulse straight through her body, igniting every nerve.

The silence sharpened everything—the creak of his boots against the floor, the deliberate way he moved around her.

He returned to the array of tools, fingers grazing over them before selecting a cat o' nine tails. Leila's gaze landed on the whip with its nine knotted lashes, watching it warily.

Makros stretched the lashes in his hand, and they snapped with a sharp crack. She flinched instinctively, and his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

The first strike kissed across her back, a teasing caress before the next landed with more force. She gasped against the gag, her body jolting forward, only to be held firm by the ropes binding her in place. The pain wasn't unbearable—just enough to make her pulse race.

Makros circled her, dragging the lashes over her skin, letting the anticipation coil tighter inside her. Then he struck again—her thighs this time. The inside. Closer to her pussy.

Her muffled moan was met with a dark chuckle.

"Look at you," he mused. "Already trembling."

Leila clenched her fingers, willing herself to stay still in defiance of his words. But how could she? With the tightness of the restraints digging into her skin, the heat blooming where the whip had kissed her, and the way her body ached and craved for more.

Makros left her again, only to return with a pair of alligator clamps. His cool fingers traced over her nipples, pinching just enough to make her jolt. Then, with slow precision, he clipped them on, the serrated edges biting into her sensitive flesh.

She groaned against the gag, her back arching as the sharp pinch sent a jolt straight to her core. Makros hummed in approval, rolling the pads of his thumbs over the clamps, testing her reaction.

"You take everything so well," he murmured. "But we're not done."

The whip came down again—faster, harder, striking her ass, her thighs, her back. Everywhere except where she wanted him most. Her body burned, not just from the heat of the strikes but from the sheer intensity of his control.

She was helpless. And she loved it. Makros stepped closer, pressing his palm between her legs. He groaned softly, feeling just how soaked she was.

"Desperate already?" His fingers teased, tracing but never pushing inside.

She whined, shifting against the restraints, trying to press into his touch.

Makros laughed, slow and cruel. "Not yet, pet. I haven't had my fun."

Then he pulled back, leaving her panting, aching.

A mechanical whir filled the air.

Leila's breath hitched as she saw what he had set before her. The automatic thrusting dildo machine. This was nothing like the vibrator he'd used before. This would tear her pussy open.

She was in a new kind of trouble. And yet, she was ready.

Makros adjusted the machine, testing its speed with a flick of his wrist. The dildo pumped steadily, each movement precise, controlled. His gaze flickered back to her, bound and waiting, her body trembling with anticipation.

"You see this, pet?" He dragged the head of the toy over her swollen folds, not pushing in, just teasing. "You're going to take it all. Every inch."

Leila's muffled whimper sent a shiver down his spine. He pressed the tip against her entrance, circling, watching as her hips instinctively tried to follow the movement.

"Look at you," he mused, his voice thick with amusement. "Already so greedy."

He pressed a button. The machine whirred to life.

The first thrust was slow, a measured push inside her soaked heat. Then another. Her body stretched around the intrusion, the burn mixing with pleasure as it filled her, pushed deeper.

Makros crouched beside her, watching her face twist with each thrust. He gripped her chin, forcing her dazed eyes to meet his.

"You'll take it like the good pet you are," he murmured, running a thumb over her spit-slicked lips. "And when I'm done, I'll ruin you myself."

The machine worked her mercilessly, each thrust driving deeper, dragging her closer to the edge. Her muffled cries filled the room, her body writhing as best as the restraints allowed. Makros watched, his cock straining against his pants, utterly enthralled by the sight of her unraveling.

"Such a desperate little thing," he taunted, dragging his fingers along her trembling thigh. "Does it feel good? Having no control?"

She could only moan in response, her eyes fluttering shut as her body clenched around the relentless toy. He let her ride that edge for a while, letting pleasure build until she was barely holding on. Then—he turned it off.

Leila let out a choked, muffled sob, her body shaking.

Makros chuckled darkly. "Oh no, wifey . You don't come until I say so."

He reached for the knots, undoing the bindings at her wrists first. Her arms dropped limply to her sides, her body slack against the cross. He caught her before she collapsed completely, his hands gripping her waist. The moment her feet touched the ground, she wobbled, barely able to stand.

"On your knees." His voice left no room for argument.

She sank down, her head swimming, her pulse hammering in anticipation.

Makros unbuckled his belt slowly, savoring the way her eyes followed his movements, still hazy with need. He freed himself, stroking his thick length as he stepped closer, towering over her.

"Open wide, pet," he ordered, sliding the gag from her mouth. "You've been drooling long enough. Time to put that pretty mouth to work."

She obeyed instantly, her lips parting as he pushed past them, filling her completely.

And he intended to keep his promise—he would ruin her, thoroughly.

Makros gripped the sides of her face, holding her still as he slid deeper, groaning as her warm mouth stretched around him. Her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock, her lips sealing tightly as she took him in.

"That's it," he murmured, his fingers tightening in her hair. "So fucking good for me."

He rocked his hips slowly at first, savoring the feel of her before pushing further, making her gag. She didn't pull back. Instead, she hollowed her cheeks, eager to take more. The sight sent a rush of heat through him, his control slipping as he fucked her mouth with more force.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, spit dripping down her chin, but she took it all, her nails digging into her thighs as she fought the urge to touch him. Makros chuckled, watching her struggle.

"You want to touch me, don't you?" he taunted, dragging his thumb over her cheek. "Too bad. You stay right there, on your knees, until I decide otherwise."

He pulled out abruptly, leaving her gasping, her chest heaving. But before she could fully recover, he yanked her up, turned her around, and bent her over the nearby table.

Leila barely had a moment to brace herself before she felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

"No more teasing," Makros growled. "I'm going to ruin you now, just like I promised."

He drove into her, hard and deep, stealing the breath from her lungs.