Page 80 of Violent Love: Viktor

I was empty. Sore. Wet. And begging for more—with my mouth.

He guided my head down, slow but brutal. Inch by inch until I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Just choking, drooling, clinging to his thighs.

He pulled back. Let me breathe then slammed forward, hard, deep and utterly merciless. My throat stretched and burned for him. Worshipped him.

His groans above me, the wet slap of spit-slick skin, my fingers fisting the sheets—I took it all. I wanted it all.

“You love this,” he growled.“Getting fucked like a hole first thing in the morning. My mouth. My cunt. My mess.”

I moaned, throat clenching as he pulsed inside me.

Then he stopped.

Held me down.

“Swallow,” he rasped.

His cum hit the back of my throat, thick and hot. I swallowed like a good girl. Every drop. He didn’t move until I did.

When he finally let me go, I collapsed beside him, spit-slick and trembling.

He brushed hair from my cheek with a tenderness that didn’t match what he’d done to me.

“Good morning,Suka.”

I smiled.

My breakfast never tasted right without my Master’s cum on my tongue.

Viktor

Four Months Later

My pet did everything wholeheartedly. She was upbeat and unflappable while pregnant. Although her demand for cock had increased, I shouldered that responsibility with great poise.

Commendable, really.

She claimed it helped her sleep. That the baby settled after I came in her. I didn’t argue—because I loved my wife’s insatiable appetite.

She’d kneel in front of me with her little bump pressed into my thighs, mouth already open, eyes already glazed. Like her body had rewritten itself to need me to function.

And I gave it to her. Every night. Any way she needed it.

Because she was mine.

Every single hole was mine.

And now her growing belly.

All mine.

The End.