Page 15 of Malicious Claim

My hand wrapped around her throat, firm and in a chokehold, pinning her down in place as my lips brushed over the curve of her ass. I kissed the bruised skin, my tongue tracing the heat I’d left behind.

“Mhm... what a delicious little ass,” I muttered against her flesh.

I could feel her trembling, her body betraying her need even before she did. But she wasn’t ready for me yet. Not even by a fraction. I needed her soaked up, pussy dripping, and desperate.

I wanted to take her to that point where even though her mind resisted, her hormones wouldn't be able to willfully withstand the pleasure I'd feed them. Oh, Makros, you're genuinely the king of mind games.

I trailed my fingers down between her thighs, parting them despite her instinctive futile attempt to squeeze them shut. “Not so fast, hold still,” I chided, spreading her wide.

She was dry. I smirked. Not for long. Lowering my head, I licked a slow, deliberate swipe up her slit, teasing, coaxing, until I felt the first quiver of wetness greet my tongue. “That’s it,” I whispered, my middle and ring fingers slipping inside her, working her open. Her pussy made wet, gurgling sounds as I continued to finger fuck and lick her.

A strangled moan escaped her lips. She trembled, but I could feel her body surrendering to my touch.

When I finally lifted my head and pulled out my fingers, they were glistening with her arousal. I locked eyes with her and let my lips stretch into a satisfied smile. Hers were parted, her breath unsteady, as if she were still trying to catch up with the storm I had unleashed inside of her. The defiance that once burned in her gaze was gone, replaced by acceptance. No more struggle. No more resistance.

I smirked, dragging my tongue over my fingers, savoring her taste. “Gosh, you taste so sweet.”

But we weren’t done. Not even close. This was merely the beginning. A mere foreplay.

Reaching for my belt, I pulled it free with a sharp pull, the leather hissing through the loops. She tensed, her body anticipating, her mind wondering what was to come. I leaned in, my breath hot over her ear. “Your hands, wifey.”

“Crazy son of a bitch!” She cussed with a fire of desire, evident in her cute eyes. But with my stern look, She obeyed, wrists pressing together at the small of her back.

Good girl. Finally someone was learning to be obedient even with her being hot tempered.

I wrapped the black belt around her wrists, tugging the strap into the buckle, tightening it until she was firmly bound with no hopes of getting free. Restraint was top five on my list of sexual fantasies. I loved the helplessness.

Her body trembled beneath me, her thighs quivering as I unzipped my jeans, freeing myself. My cock throbbed, heavy with need and desire. I pressed it against her slick heat, tapping her clit, teasing, watching her bite her lip as a choked whimper escaped.

“Look at you,” I murmured, dragging my tip through her folds. “So desperate. So wet for me.”

And then I took her. Hard. In one swift thrust, I went all the way in. Her back arched, her bound hands straining against thebelt. A strangled moan tore from her throat as her legs kicked behind me, her heels digging into my ass. She was so tight, and the way she clenched around me nearly made me cum right then and there.

I pulled out, savoring the drag, then drove into her again–deeper, harder. She wheezed, her body jolting forward. The bed shook beneath us. She pounded her head against the mattress, as if grounding herself, as if trying to fight against the pleasure overwhelming her.

“Oh fuck, no more,please!” she whimpered, her voice breathless, wrecked. Her head turned over to the side, eyes hazy and unfocused. I bet she was seeing stars.

I chuckled darkly, brushing my lips over the nape of her neck. “No more?” I taunted, rolling my hips, grinding deep. “Oh, wifey... we’re just getting started.”

She writhed beneath me, wrists bound tight, body trembling like she still believed she had control. Foolish. That power belonged to me now. Her back arched, a silent plea, her soft gasp betraying her. My palm claimed her breast—rough, unrelenting and I squeezed hard enough to remind her she wasn’t allowed to forget whose hands owned her.

Her nipple hardened instantly under my touch.

I pinched, twisted, and dragged, my breath hot against her neck. “Too much?” I whispered, mock-gentle, my voice low and poisonous. “You say stop, but your body begs for ruin.”

She whimpered, legs tensing, hips lifting for more.

I chuckled darkly. “Thought so.”

Without warning, my hand came down—hard. The slap cracked through the room. Once. Twice. Three times. Her body jolted, ass glowing red beneath the weight of my palm.

She gasped, sharp, ragged, breath stuttering. Her moan hitched mid-air when I thrust into her. Deep. Hard. Like punishment. Like possession.

“That’s it,” I growled, my fingers digging into her hips. “Cling to me like that. Like I’m the only thing keeping you alive.”

Her moans turned needy, broken, her body melting around mine.

I leaned in, voice of pure sin. “Say it, Leila. Say you love being owned.”