Page 90 of Shadow Waltz

When I trembled too hard, about to lose control, he pulled off with a pop, grinning up at me. “Not yet. You don’t come until I say.”

He stood and pressed his body against mine, letting me feel the hard line of his cock, still trapped in his slacks. He ground against my hip, making me feel how much he wanted me, how close he was to breaking.

His hand snaked between my cheeks, slick fingers teasing my hole, rubbing circles around the rim but never pushing in, just stoking the fire. His other hand slapped my ass, hard, making me jerk forward into his chest, my cock pressed between our stomachs.

He spun me around and bent me over the edge of the bed, cool sheets against my thighs. “Stay,” he ordered, one palm at the small of my back, pressing me down. He parted my ass, spit on my hole, and spread it with his thumb, making me feel utterly exposed. He licked a long, slow stripe from my balls up to the base of my spine, then back down, tongue working my hole open, wet and relentless, making me sob into the mattress.

He ate me out for what felt like forever—tongue fucking, sucking, spitting, biting at my cheeks, his fingers sometimes stroking my cock, sometimes slapping my ass until my whole body was shaking.

He pulled me upright, pressed his chest to my back, lips hot at my ear. “You want to come?” he whispered, one hand closing around my throat. “You want to be filled, or you want to come just from my mouth and hands?”

“Anything—please, Luka, just—please?—”

He spun me around, lifted me easily, and dropped me onto my back in the center of the bed. He straddled my chest, cock heavy and leaking, and slapped it against my lips. “Open.”

I obeyed, and he fucked my mouth slow, feeding it to me inch by inch, letting me choke and drool, spit and precome running down my chin, slicking my collar and chest.

He pulled out, then slid down my body, settling between my thighs. “Hands behind your head,” he reminded, voice a growl. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

He jerked me with one hand, mouth and teeth teasing every inch—kissing, licking, biting up and down my shaft, sucking my balls, rolling them on his tongue. His other hand cupped my face, thumb rubbing the spot where my jaw ached from being used.

“Beg,” he said. “Beg me to let you come.”

“Please, Luka—please, I need it, I want it, I can’t?—”

He slapped my cock, hard, making me gasp. “Not until you tell me who you belong to. Not until you say it.”

“You—fuck, Luka, I belong to you?—”

He stroked me faster, two slick fingers circling my hole, tongue lapping at my slit, making the world narrow to his hands and mouth and voice. When I was almost gone, he pulled back, breathing heavy, eyes dark with something fierce and hungry.

He flipped me over, bit my ass hard, then pulled me onto his lap, my back to his chest, his hand around my cock, jerking me slow and torturous. His mouth at my ear, hot and possessive. “You’re going to beg for me to fuck you, Ash. You’re going to scream for it.”

I moaned, body trembling, so close I could taste it. “Please, Luka, please fuck me, please fill me up, I need it, I’ll do anything, please?—”

He just smiled, a wolf’s grin that promised ruin. “Anything?” His hand trailed down my spine, nails biting, making me archinto his touch. “You say that, but you still think you can set the terms.” He grabbed my hair, fisting it at the base, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “Tonight you don’t get to hide. Not a single inch of you.”

I shuddered, the words like a match to oil. My cock twitched against my stomach, leaking, desperate.

“On your knees,” he growled.

I scrambled to obey, knees sinking into the expensive sheets, arms behind my back as I’d been taught. My heart hammered in my throat, mouth dry with anticipation. Luka moved around me, predatory, circling like I was prey.

He reached for the paddle—a heavy, polished slab of wood that gleamed in the golden lamplight. He set it down just in front of me, then reached under my jaw and lifted my face so I could see his cock, thick and flushed, drooling precome.

“You want this so badly, you’d let me ruin you in every way. Is that it?”

“Yes,” I choked, voice shaking with need. “I want you to ruin me. I want you to make me yours. I want everyone to see it tomorrow—on my skin, in my walk, in my fucking eyes.”

He laughed, low and cruel. “You’re filthier than I thought.” He slapped my cheek, not hard, just enough to make my cock twitch. “Keep those hands behind your back, or I’ll tie you up and leave you hard all night.”

I groaned, unable to hide how much that threat thrilled me.

“Bend forward,” he ordered. I did, ass in the air, face pressed to the mattress, knees spread wide. The paddle was cold and heavy as he tapped it against my inner thigh, then up between my cheeks.

“You know what I like about you, Ash?” he murmured, kneeling behind me. “You can talk all you want, but the truth comes out when you’re like this—stripped, helpless, begging for it.”

He brought the paddle down in a sudden, sharp smack—just below the curve of my ass, making me jerk and gasp. Another, harder, the sting blooming into a burn that pulsed down to my cock. “Count.”