Page 91 of Shadow Waltz

“One,” I whimpered.

Another blow, then another, rapid and mean, the sound echoing off the high ceiling.

“Two—three—four—” My voice broke, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

He paused, rubbing his palm over the heated skin, kneading and squeezing, spreading my cheeks open with both hands. He leaned in, spit dripping onto my hole, his tongue following to swirl and tease, cooling the burn for a moment before the paddle returned.

He worked my ass until I was shaking, breath hitching with every slap, every wet stripe his tongue left. My cock throbbed, leaking onto the sheets, balls heavy and aching. He slid a slick finger in, working me open, twisting and curling until I was grinding back, fucking myself on his hand.

“You like being used, don’t you?” Luka’s voice was pure sin. “You want everyone to see how well you take it. How much you love it.”

“Yes, fuck, yes—please, Luka, I need you, I want you to break me, I want to feel it tomorrow?—”

He slapped my ass again, this time right across the spot where his tongue had been, and I shouted, hips jerking. He didn’t let up, alternating the paddle with his hand, pausing only to rub the sore, swollen flesh, to press kisses into the marks he’d made.

“You’re such a mess for me. Look at your cock—leaking all over yourself. Dripping like you’re in heat.”

He forced two fingers into my mouth, making me suck them, taste the lube and my own arousal. “Open up. You can beg withyour mouth full. Come on. Tell me what you want, and don’t stop.”

I took his fingers, sucking hard, choking a little when he pushed deeper, pressing down on my tongue. I moaned around them, trying to form the words. “Please—fuck, please Luka, fill me up, split me open, use me—make me yours, mark me?—”

He pulled his fingers free, wiped them across my lips, and then down my chest, smearing spit and slick over my nipples before twisting them hard. “That’s it. I want you desperate. I want you raw for me. Show me how much you want it.”

He flipped me onto my back, legs spread wide, paddle pressed to my chest. He gripped my chin, made me look him in the eye. “You want me to wreck you? Say it.”

“Wreck me, Luka. Hurt me. Make me remember you every time I sit down tomorrow. I want your handprint on my skin. I want to feel you inside me for days.”

He grinned, vicious and beautiful. “You’ll get it. Every bit.”

He knelt between my legs and took my cock in his hand, squeezing just below the head, twisting his wrist so precome dribbled down my length and over his knuckles. “Look how greedy you are for it. Who owns this cock, Ash?”

“You do—fuck—always you?—”

He spit on my cock, jerked me fast and rough, then slow, teasing the tip until I thought I’d scream. He pressed the paddle to my throat, making me feel the weight, the implied threat, as he leaned in to bite at my collarbone, leaving marks, sucking bruises into my neck and chest.

He moved down, mouth trailing over my ribs, nipping, licking, sucking, until he reached my thighs. He bit down, hard enough to make me cry out, then soothed the hurt with his tongue. He sucked my balls into his mouth, one at a time, rolling them over his tongue, then let them go with a wet pop.

He slid a finger into my hole, followed by another, stretching me wide, twisting, scissoring, fucking me on his hand until I was panting, begging, incoherent. “Please, please, Luka, I need it, need your cock, need you inside me?—”

He pressed the paddle flat to my ass, then brought it down again, a solid blow that made my body jolt, made my cock leak harder. He leaned down and licked the red, swollen skin, then spit on my hole, fingers working the slick in.

“Look at you—open, dripping, ready to be fucked. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes—anything, Luka, anything you want, just please?—”

He climbed onto the bed, pressing the paddle into my hands. “Hold this above your head. Don’t drop it, or I’ll start over.”

I grabbed the paddle, knuckles white. Luka used both hands to spread my cheeks wide, staring down at my hole, stretched and needy, lube and spit glistening in the golden light.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured, voice gone hoarse with need. “So fucking desperate. So ready to be ruined.”

He spit again, watching it drip down over my hole, catching it with his fingers, pushing it in. He teased the head of his cock against me, not pushing in yet, just rubbing, smearing slick and precome everywhere, making me whimper and writhe.

He bent down, took my cock into his mouth, sucking deep, tongue pressing hard against the underside, his hand stroking in rhythm, his other hand never leaving my hip, holding me steady for the next blow of the paddle.

“Please, Luka, please, I’m yours, I’m yours, I can’t?—”

He lifted his head, eyes burning. “You’ll come when I say. Not a moment before. And when I’m inside you, you’ll scream for me.”