Page 36 of Bloody Savage God
His hoarse laugh rings through the room. “Pain might get me off, but only when I get something more out of it.”
“You’re hardly in a position to ask for anything. You’ll take what I give you and accept what I’m using you for.” It wasn’t like I’d fucked him in Club Steel, and he’d still seemed happy enough.
Sure enough, my words have his cock perk right up. Good enough. I’m not in the mood for foreplay. I’m in the mood to hurt and to fuck.
To forget.
His face is still swollen and his split lip has dried blood on it. I don’t care. In fact, I can use this. Leaning forward, I take his mouth hard, pressing my lips against his and biting his lip right where it split yesterday.
He answers my assault with a moan that sets my pussy on fire. I position my left leg between both of his, my right leg on the outside of his left thigh. Then I lower myself, still dressed, onto his leg and begin rubbing myself against him. Right over the gash I cut into him last night.
His hiss of pain has me moving faster, tilting my hips slightly so I can get friction on my clit.
Fuck yes.This is exactly what I needed now.
His lip is bleeding again and I lick over it before moving my mouth lower and biting his neck. Hard.
I can feel him trying to move, but Eric did a good job immobilizing him. He can’t do anything but feel.
Leaning back, I pull back and slap him hard.
“That’s for not telling me right away.”
The question of why he preferred being tortured over telling me he had a rock solid alibi is something I’ll have to deal with later. But right now, I want more, and I’m free to take it.
Getting off his leg, I can feel the wetness of his blood that seeped from his newly opened wound into the fabric of my dress. Luckily, the black hides the stain nicely.
Reaching for the zipper that runs along the side of the dress, I pull it down to my waist and shimmy out of the fabric, pushing my panties down with the rest. Mikhail’s eyes follow every one of my movements with rapt attention, his smile turning devilish when I grab a condom from the jar on the shelf.
I don’t bother with my bra, instead I close the distance between us and straddle him right there. Rolling the condom onto his dick, I hold him in place and position myself above him. Then I wrap both my hands around his neck and begin to squeeze.
First he smiles up at me defiantly, but as I increase the pressure and slowly sink down on him, letting his erection stretch me, his eyes flare with arousal and something else.
Admiration.
I bask in the sensation, dragging out the slow descent down his thick cock, until he’s fully sheathed within me.
When I’m seated in his lap, I take my hands off his throat, pressing my lips against his again. His bloody lips taste salty, and the knowledge he’s bleeding for me, ramps up my arousal.
When I break the kiss, his gaze is molten, and I start fucking him. There is no slow and languid happening here today. I buried my father, squared off against my uncle in front of Angelo. This is stress relief. It’s a carnal need to drive everything else out of my mind.
So I fuck Mikhail, slapping him whenever another thought tries to intrude on the blissful friction of my pussy, rubbing around and against his cock.
His breathing grows ragged, his arousal obviously building, but I’m not done with him yet, so I reach back to where his hand is taped to the armrest. Pressing down on his fingernails, I relish his pained groan.
“Fuck, Gianna. Fuck!” He curses, but I can see his pupils dilate.
“That’s right, we’re fucking, so don’t you dare get off before I say so.”
His expression, half pain, half smirk, is enough to have me grab his hair hard, pulling his head back until his throat is exposed to me. He doesn’t want to submit, only wants the pain and the pleasure, but he doesn’t get that option.
“Try me,” I hiss as I grind against him, getting my clit the attention it’s demanding.
“Fucking hell, you’re so damn hot.” His voice is pressed, and the knowledge that I have control over him, that I get to use him, is making the pleasure I’m giving myself explode.
It’s not one of those slow building orgasms. It’s like a volcano. A bit of shaking earth, and thenbam. Lava.
My pussy wrings Mikhail’s cock and his pained expression is telling me he’s just barely holding on. I pull back and slap him across the face. Once, twice, and then, when I know his control is breaking, I give the order he’s waiting for.
