Page 53 of Shadow Waltz

“Take it, slut,” he rasped, one hand wrapped in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. “You love being used—being nothing but a hole for me. Bet you’d let Luka do anything, wouldn’t you? Let him watch while I ruin you, stretch you open on my cock, leave you leaking so he can fuck you next.”

My whole body shook, muscles tensed and straining. I was moaning, pleading, rutting back against him like I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get full enough. “Please, please, fuck, fill me, want to be messy for you—want you to ruin me—want him to see?—”

Troy’s laugh was low and dangerous, pure sin poured into my ear. “You’re dripping for it, pretty thing. I can see you clenching, hungry for more. You want me to spit in your mouth again? Want to taste what a good boy you are?”

“Yes,” I gasped, mouth open, tongue out, desperate for anything he’d give.

He pulled me up by the collar, forcing me to arch back against his chest, cock still buried deep inside me. He spat straight into my open mouth, the mess mixing with my own spit and moans. “Swallow,” he ordered, and I obeyed instantly, the taste and humiliation sending sparks through every nerve.

“Such a good fucking boy,” he praised, voice thick, hand sliding down my chest to pinch my nipples, rolling and tugging until I whined and squirmed, helpless and completely at his mercy.

“Stroke yourself,” Troy commanded, never letting go of the collar, tightening his grip so I felt every beat of my pulse under his hand. My hand found my cock, slick with precome, stroking in time with his thrusts, each pump making my vision go white at the edges.

“You’re going to come for me,” he hissed, biting down on my shoulder, grinding into me so deep I thought I’d break apart. “Going to milk my cock like the desperate little slut you are. Luka’s going to see you ruined—see my cum leaking out of your perfect hole.”

My whole body tensed, pleasure a razor’s edge, humiliation and need tangled so tight it hurt. Troy pounded into me, relentless, and with a final bruising thrust, I came, cock spurting hot across my belly and sheets, my hole fluttering and clenching around him. I sobbed his name, surrendering everything, lost in the tidal wave of release.

Troy wasn’t far behind. He jerked out, fisting his cock, hot ropes of cum splattering my ass and lower back, marking me as his. He used his hand to smear it in, thumb pressing some back inside me, not letting a single drop go to waste.

“Look at you,” he panted, voice raw with satisfaction. “Ruined. Marked. Just how I want you.”

The room was thick with heat and the sharp, unmistakable scent of sex—lube, sweat, Troy’s cum smeared across my skin and seeping from my hole, my own release cooling sticky on my stomach. For a moment, everything went quiet except for our uneven breathing and the distant wail of sirens outside, city lights flickering through the bulletproof glass.

Troy’s hands softened, rough fingers tracing the line of my spine, then kneading my hips with unexpected tenderness. He pulled me back against his chest, big arms wrapping around my trembling body, cradling me in a cocoon of warmth and muscle. The collar pressed against his jaw as he nuzzled my neck, breath calming, lips brushing sweat-damp hair.

Neither of us spoke—there was nothing left to say, not after a claiming like that. I could feel his heartbeat slow against my back, grounding me, settling something wild and unmoored in my chest.

He reached for a towel from the nightstand and wiped me off gently, careful around the bruises and bite marks he’d left. I shivered under his hands, exhaustion and satisfaction tangling in my veins.

“Good boy,” he murmured, softer now, as if the words were meant just for me. He kissed the side of my throat, then pressed his forehead to my shoulder. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself float for a moment in that strange, aching calm.

That’s when the secure phone on the bedside table buzzed, the sound slicing through the quiet and snapping us both back to the world outside this suite. Troy didn’t flinch—he reached for it with steady hands, voice regaining that cold, military edge.

“Yes, sir,” he said, then turned, handing the device to me, his eyes lingering with a mix of possession and pride. “Boss wants to talk.”

I took the phone with hands that shook more than I'd like to admit, because hearing Luka's voice right now felt both necessary and terrifying.

“Are you hurt?” Luka's voice poured through the encrypted line, raw and fierce, every syllable dripping with possessive relief that made my chest twist up tight.

“I'm fine,” I answered, my voice a little rough. “Troy... took very good care of me.”

There was a pause—just long enough for me to realize the truth. He already knew.

“I saw,” Luka said, voice going lower, more dangerous. “You did beautifully for him, Ash. For me.”

A hot flush crept up my throat. I glanced at Troy, who was watching me with a knowing, satisfied look.

“Was that what you wanted?” I managed, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.

“It's what you needed,” Luka replied. “And I need to know you're safe, satisfied, obedient—especially when I can't be there to do it myself.”

He let the words linger, heavy with all the things he’d given Troy permission to do. The thought sent a shiver of aftershock through me, heat pooling low, the collar on my throat suddenly feeling tighter, heavier.

“The situation's stabilizing,” Luka continued, his tone shifting just enough to make me picture him in some dimly lit command room, watching me on a grainy screen. “It may be hours before I can come to you. I expect you to keep being good for Troy until then. Can you handle that?”

“I can handle it,” I said, the truth burning in my bones.