Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I have never felt prouder of anyone than I do of this woman in this moment. She responds so naturally and so beautifully. She gives every second her full attention. She is alive in ways many people never are. She is a challenge to control, and it is my joy to dominate her completely.
Now, with the gown gone, we can see the cute tattoos she has elected to adorn her body with. There are only two, a little duck on the back of her neck, just under the hairline, and a small family of ducks depicted swimming across her lower back. Most tattoos placed there are referred to as tramp stamps, but that is far too wholesome to be called trampy in any way.
She picked this motif, and I wonder if she knows the deeper meaning of it. The duck represents the Otherworld, a messenger. It also represents fertility. What a perfect symbol for her to have elected to display on her flesh.
I do not believe the universe makes mistakes. I think it quite often enacts harsh cruelty, but not by mistake. I run my fingers over her seared cheeks and trace the ducks lightly for a moment, giving her some small respite.
These men around us represent some of the most powerful families in business, legitimate and less so. These are the wolves of the world, some of them anyway. The ones closest to me. The ones who must be convinced that the Levin family is still capable of handling business.
Ella is my demonstration piece tonight.
I spread her legs, one on each side of the stone. This exposes her slit, her womanly chalice already swollen and dripping with arousal. She cannot help that, either. It is all part of her delicious and delicate responsiveness.
Then I too, mount the altar. I remain fully clothed, but free my cock. Reaching down, I grip her hips and pull them up to me. The sweet slit of her weeping sex is ready for me. Her body knows how to take this. Ancient instincts tell her how to submit the way a wounded animal does.
I plunge myself deep inside her in one hard stroke, causing her to gasp and make a high-pitched wail of shock. She is hot and she is wet, her molten sex gripping me tightly as I take full command of the chalice between her thighs.
She is mine. Instantly. Irrevocably. In this moment, though we are surrounded by ritual and men in masks, there is truly nothing besides her and me in all the world. I emit a growl as I press her down to the stone and make her take every rough, dominating, punishing thrust I have to give her.
In old times, blood would be shed. What was plunged into the body of a sacrifice would be steel. My cock stands instead of a blade, and her willing pussy becomes the alchemical recipient of all the grief, rage, and pain that has been welling inside me since the moment I discovered my brother’s loss.
Ella
I didn’t think this sex would feel any different than any other I’ve ever had. Being fucked is just about having a cock inside me, so how could the sensation really change all that much?
I am learning that it can, and does.
The eyes of the watchers are on me, but that knowledge only seems to heighten the sensations. Shame is a powerful aphrodisiac. Their faces are hidden, but I am entirely on display as I am taken apart thrust by thrust. There are still tears in my eyes from the caning, trickling slowly down my cheeks even as my body melts into the pleasure that comes from being roughly claimed.
I had no idea that a ritual like this could be so powerful. I am being turned into an object, sacrificed to these men and their organization. Aiden pulls free, turns me over onto my back, and starts to fuck me again. This time I can look up into his magnetic, beautiful face as he grips my thighs and spreads them around his powerful waist, thrusting deep inside me.
I lose track of time in how long he fucks me. His stamina is impressive, as is the way he makes me feel. I arch and writhe on his cock, my nipples hard, my breasts bare and vulnerable. Time melts around us as we lose our anchor to the modern day and are transported to a dozen places in the deep past all at once. I am experiencing the exquisite anguish of being roughly claimed on this rock as so many have before me, the deep friction of a throbbing cock in my tender pussy driving me against the unyielding stone that at first took some of the striped pain of the cane strokes away, but now seems to magnify them every time I am jolted against it.