Page 50 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

“So fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

One side of his mouth curves up.

“You’re just as addicted to my dick as I am to your pussy.”

He lets his cock go and grabs the dagger from my belly. With it in one hand, he helps me up from the bed with the other. He takes us over to a chair that’s in front of a large window and sits down. It’s a big chair with thick cushions and no armrests. He puts the dagger on the cushion beside him.

“On your knees.”

The floor meets my knees when I drop to them. Anticipation has my breath coming in erratic pants, and my heart is pounding like crazy.

“Open wide and give me that mouth.”

I do as instructed and he goes all the way to the back of my mouth with the first thrust. I expected it, and therefore was prepared for it, but I still choke and make gagging sounds.

What I didn’t expect was for him to hold me there.

My chin is pressed against his balls, my nose against his groin, and I can’t breathe.

His firm grip in my hair pulls me tighter to him.

I try to lift my head, but with my arms tied behind me, I have no purchase to push against him.

Through the fog in my brain, his deep groan barely reaches my ears.

Alarm bells start going off in my head, and my fight response kicks in. I try again to lift myself away when my lungs start to burn. I can’t even make sounds of distress since he’s wedged deep in my throat.

“Ahh, fuck, baby. That’s it. Swallow my cock. Work those throat muscles. Fucking take it all.”

I am working my throat muscles, but not to give him pleasure.

It’s because I need fucking air and there’s none to be had.

A wave of dizziness hits, making the outside edges of my vision blurry.

I struggle against the silk robe around my wrists, wiggling my shoulders and trying so damn hard to yank my mouth off of him.

Just when I think all hope is lost, and I’m going to die with a dick in my mouth, I’m roughly pulled off him.

I suck in air over and over again like my life depends on it, which it quite literally does.

“Asshole,” I manage to wheeze out after I catch my breath.

Ryker chuckles. “You said you wanted it.”

“I said I wanted it, not that I wanted to die with it stuck in my throat.”

“Such dramatics, baby.” I grit my teeth, wanting to slap away the irritating smirk from his face. “On your feet.”

It’s difficult with my hands tied, but I manage to stand up.

He grabs the dagger by his hip, and my eyes widen when he slams the end of it into the cushion between his legs.

Jesus, he’s fucking brave. The thing is only an inch away from his balls.

A minor miscalculation and he would have become a eunuch.

“Climb on, Vicious. I want you to ride it.”

I jerk my eyes away from the knife and stare at him. There’s no way he just said what my brain says he did.

“You want me to…”

“Sit on my lap and fuck yourself on the dagger.”

I swallow, and a nervous lump gets caught in my throat. My gaze drops down to the dagger impaled into the chair. Most of the blade is jammed into the cushion, but there’s still a couple of inches sticking out. Can I really do something like this? Do I want to do something like this?

I look back at Ryker, and his expression tells me I don’t really have a choice. He’ll force me on the thing whether I want it or not. The muscles in my thighs quiver, and my stomach dips and twists. The idea of being forced to fuck my dagger sends a shocking thrill through me.

With anxious jitters swarming my belly, I straddle his lap. His lips curve up into a sexy smile as his hands curl around my hips.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he rumbles in appreciation. “A good, naughty girl.”

He helps guide me as I lower myself. I jerk to a stop when I feel the top of the dagger hit my pussy. I lick my lips, and my brain tells me to stop, but my body demands I continue.

“Don’t stop now, baby. You’re about to get to the good part.”

My lips part, and I pant out a breath when I go down lower, and the end splits my lips and slips inside.

The handle isn’t very long, only about six inches and a little over an inch in width.

It’ll easily fit inside me. It’s the two inches of blade that’s sticking out of the chair that makes me twitchy.

“Keep going, Vicious,” he orders. His hands on my hips curl tighter, and he pushes me further down.

I hold my breath and keep my eyes on his face. There’s a muscle in his cheek that twitches, and the pulse in his temple visibly throbs. His forehead shines from perspiration, and the gray in his eyes has long since turned stormy. On his chin, there’s a smear of dried blood.

I sink down lower on the dagger. When I feel the slight ridges of the hilt, which is rounded and only sticks out a half an inch on either side of the handle, I freeze.

Ryker lets my waist go and his hands move to cup my ass.

He spreads my pussy open and lifts me up a little before he brings me back down.

The roughness of the jewels scraping my walls feels incredibly good, surprisingly good. I let some of the tension in my body drain out.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks as he continues to slide me up and down the dagger.

Embarrassment heats my cheeks. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. “Yes.”

“Fuck it for me. Show me how good it feels.”

He keeps his hands on my ass, spreading me wide, but lets me control my movements.

I start out slow, still worried about the blade, but I quickly pick up speed when the feel-good sensations grow stronger.

I swirl my hips and lift myself up and down, sliding the dagger handle in and out of me.

My eyes slide closed, and I tip my head back.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Don’t look away from me. I want to see when you come all over that dagger.”

I move up and down faster, forgetting all about the danger of the blade.

“Give me your mouth.”

I drop my head, and our lips lock. He thrusts his tongue inside, and I moan into his mouth. The jewels score the inside of my walls, and I whimper in need because it feels really fucking good. My ab muscles tighten, and my toes curl.

I move faster, needing more, needing to go deeper.

In my frantic haste to fulfill those needs, I go a bit too deep, and I feel the first sting of the blade cutting into me.

It’s a small sting, so I know it only barely grazed me, but it’s enough to have my hips jerking upward to get away from it.

I pull my mouth from Ryker with a pained gasp.

I try to lift myself from the dagger, but Ryker holds me in place. His eyes look wild and a bit unhinged as he slowly lowers me back down.

“Wait! Stop!” I cry. “The blade… it cut me.”

He doesn’t let me go and instead pushes me down further. Another sting comes. “Bleed for me, baby. I’ll kiss it all better afterward.”

“What?” I nearly screech. “No! Please stop, Ryker.”

“Yes, Savina.” He lifts me up and slams me back down. “You’re fucking gushing all over my balls, so I know you like the pain.”

I fucking hate this man because I know he’s right.

When that first nick came, it wasn’t only blood that seeped from between my legs.

I know the cuts aren’t deep, and they aren’t internal.

Only a bare minimum of the blade touches the rim of my hole, but it’s the thought of such a wicked act that has me wanting to stop this.

My body is completely on board for more.

I’m lifted again and brought back down hard. Another cut and another bite of pain. He does it over and over again. The blade doesn’t touch me every time because he’s holding me open, but it happens enough that I know the cushion below us will sport streaks of blood.

The next time he lifts me, he picks me up all the way off the dagger. He reaches between us, and then the dagger is gone, and I’m impaled on something else. I scream when he fills me completely.

“Fuck, yeah, Vicious. Take every inch of my cock. Bleed all over it. Give it to me.”

He’s turned into a savage madman, slamming inside me hard, retreating, and doing it all over again.

My breasts bounce with his forceful thrusts, and my core clenches around him.

It hurts being so full of him, and it hurts because of the cuts, but nothing has ever felt so good.

I want more. I want him deeper. I want him to fuck me harder. To force me to take it.

And he does. He does it so good, I’m hoarse from crying, and shouting, and begging.

His lips latch around one of my nipples, and he bites down hard.

The pain from the cut earlier renews, but so does the erotic pleasure that accompanies it.

With the help of his hands on my ass, I bounce up and down on his cock, taking him as deep as he can go.

At each downward stroke, I grind against him, hitting my clit just right.

My orgasm hits me like a freight train, slamming into me so fast and forceful that I’ve got no option but to tip my head back and scream.

Every cell in my body lights up, tingling dramatically.

Ryker picks me up and the next slam downward, he holds me there, grinding my sore pussy against his groin.

He groans deeply, and I feel the hot blasts of his cum overflowing my insides.

I’m boneless once the aftereffects fade, utterly depleted of energy.

In a show of surprising tenderness, he allows me to sag against him.

I don’t know how long I stay there, but I must fall asleep because the next time I open my eyes, Ryker’s laying me down in bed.

My eyes are barely slit open as I watch him.

He disappears for a moment before coming back with a wet washcloth.

I expect him to clean me like he’s done every other time he’s fucked me raw since I’ve been here, but that isn’t what he does.

My breath squeaks out when his head dips and his mouth covers me.

He groans, the sound deep and growly. He licks me lazily, our combined release and the blood, and despite the fatigue threatening to take me under, my body reacts.

“Ryker,” I moan. Sliding my fingers through his thick hair, I lift my hips to meet his mouth.

He stays down there long enough to thoroughly clean me with his mouth. I want to protest when he lifts his head, but exhaustion holds my tongue. The coolness of the cloth comes next, and it feels amazing against my abused flesh.

Once he’s finished with that, he tosses the cloth away. My eyes slide closed, but they open again when something minty fills the air, and his fingers are back between my legs. I look down and see him dip a finger into a jar of some type of cream.

“What’s that?” I ask sleepily.

“A numbing cream.” He looks up at me. “It’s what I used when I came to you while you slept. It’s why you never woke up sore.”

His words should anger me, and maybe they will later, but all I can feel right now is gratefulness for the miracle cream. The lingering pain from the knife quickly fades, and I sag more into the soft mattress.

I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, so I let them close. I don’t open them when I feel the bed dip or when he wraps his arms around me from behind, cocooning my body against his.