THE SOLDIER

Her breath rate increases, and she starts to moan softly at the stimulation. Soon she’s humping my lap, rubbing that wet cunt over the bulge of my erection.

Fuck. I’ve already had her once, but I’m ready to go again. I unzip my pants and pull my dick out again. I sink into her heat for a second time.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, blossom.” I pull her over my cock in a slow undulation.

She pulls back to meet my gaze, to show me she’s listening.

“You can’t get it wrong with me.”

She blinks. The tears are long gone, replaced by a glassy sheen over her huge, blown pupils.

“Punishing you gives me pleasure, so I’m never disappointed. I don’t need you to obey me every time or to read my mind or get it right. I just need your surrender, which you give so beautifully.”

Her expression relaxes.

I slide backward on the bed and lie back, carrying her with me. “Ride me, blossom. Show me how you get yourself off.”

She braces her hands on my shoulders and arches her back, giving me a glorious view from below.

Snap: Mental picture #3.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

Actually, this time it’s a mental video clip. Of Kayla working herself into a frenzy over my dick. Of the sounds she makes, keening and desperate. Of the curve of her throat, the bounce of her tits. I release her nipples from the clamps, trying to time the pain she’ll experience when the blood rushes back to them with her orgasm. It works. After a few seconds, she slows her hips. She holds her breasts and cries out, her back bowing, head falling back. She stops completely as her muscles spasm and tighten around my dick.

I don’t come. I’m too caught up in capturing every nuance of Kayla’s orgasm for my mental movie. There’s nothing more beautiful in the entire universe than watching her orgasm. I will go to my grave with the image of every single orgasm I gave her memorized. She exhibits total abandon, giving herself over completely to the pleasure. Sometimes she can’t speak for long moments afterward, like her mind went so far it takes effort to bring it back.

“Beautiful, blossom.” I pull her off me and flip her on her belly. Her ass is still pink from the spanking I gave her and seeing my handprints gives me a surge of pleasure. I straddle her thighs and enter from behind, wrapping my hand loosely around the front of her throat.

I don’t need long. Watching her come is the most powerful aphrodisiac there is. I’m ready to go off the moment I’m inside her. I tug her throat, making her arch her back or get choked.

She lets out a cry-there’s a little protest in the note but also a stark need, like she could come again in a heartbeat.

“Come again without permission, and I’ll use my belt,” I warn her.

“Please!” she gasps, sounding frantic.

I’m desperate, too. I don’t answer, more because I’m so close to orgasm myself than because I want to make her suffer.

“Please. Master.”

“Come.” I force the word out as my balls draw up tight. I’m surprised to hear a gutteral sound come out of my mouth-it’s not like me to reveal too much. But that’s what this woman does to me.

I can’t help it. The release is too great. I slam home and fill her channel with the small amount of cum that’s regenerated since the last time I fucked her. It’s a hundred times more pleasurable than the first time, but there’s no taking mental pictures or standing back to observe because I’m as far gone as she is, letting her sweet pussy squeeze every last drop of cum out of me as she milks me for more.

As my consciousness seeps back into my body, I flinch when I realize my hold on her throat might be too tight. I instantly relax my fingers. I will punch my own face if I bruised her neck.

Could she even breathe?

Yes. Yes, I remember she was begging to come. She cried out with me. Panted with me. I lower her torso to the bed, following. I kiss between her shoulder blades, shift her pale hair away from her nape to brush my lips along the side of her neck.

“You okay?” I ask between the tiny kisses I shower along her jaw.

“Yes. Yes, sir,” she remembers to add. She’s not so far gone this time.

I pull out and roll her to her back, so I can inspect her throat, fighting back the sick feeling in my stomach at what I could’ve done. I run my finger across the faint marks. “Did I scare you?”

That’s the last thing I want with Kayla. Nervous, sure. Eager to please. But never scared. Everything hinges on her trust.

That she gives it so blindly, so easily, often makes me want to smash things. I don’t deserve the trust she puts in me, and I use it to hurt her.

But she likes it. That’s what I remind myself on a daily basis, every time I’m ready to walk away from this madness.

Her eyes are unfocused, but she finds my face, shaking her head. “No, Master.” As if she senses my inner dilemma, she assures me, “I loved it.”

Fuck.

This beautiful little flower.

Kayla

I’m still shaking when Pavel wraps me up in the soft blanket he brought and produces our dinner. I never heard the knock, but then, I was a little busy.

He left the plug in my ass, leaving me still enervated and horny, despite my-how many times did I orgasm? I can’t even think.

Pavel places the tray beside me, uncovers my plate, and sets it on my lap, somehow knowing that my fingers aren’t steady enough to pick it up yet. He leaves his own plate untouched, moving the tray away to sit beside me, drawing me against his side.

I lean into him, needing his strength to steady my wobble. This is the most terrifying part of every scene. It’s not the nerves leading up to it-although those kill me.