“I won’t hurt you,” he swears, his voice a persistent, soothing hum. “I will never hurt you.”
And I believe him, even as he lowers that toy between my legs.
“Look at me,” he commands. When I do, I almost can’t breathe at the intensity I find in his gaze. He eyes me like I’m something more than just beautiful. Cherished. Desired. My thoughts spin again, threatening to scatter.
But when a cool, firmness nudges my lower lips, I balk.
“Vadim, please…”
Pressure. Pressure. Thick, filling pressure. Shock robs me of my voice as my head rears back. Deep down, I know that he’s using the toy, easing it inside me bit by bit.
“So beautiful,” I hear him grate as my muscles relax to adjust. “So wet for me. Trust me, beautiful. I will never hurt you.”
Because he wants to kill me instead.
This toy is deadly. I can sense the subtle differences from the last one the second he breaches me with the rounded tip. After a few days, the shape and feel of his cock are etched into my brain. How it stretches me pleasurably. The friction he can achieve with just one stroke.
And this toy…
It’s him. In almost every fucking way.
“Yes,” he says in response to my puzzled expression. Gently, he smooths the hair from my face and leans over me, trailing his lips along my sweat-slick forehead. “Another custom request,” he adds near my ear. “You ask for pleasure, I aim to deliver.”
He shoves his hand—driving in the toy in the process—and my brain goes on hiatus. Too much. Too fast. My eyes roll, my breaths shallow as my body conforms to the foreign object—familiar, yet different. Nothing in the world could ever serve as a substitute for him, and in so many ways, the toy feels worse. The pressure only heightens the lust throbbing between my legs. My inner muscles clench in vain, demanding the real thing. It’s sadistic.
It’s torture, beyond kink.
It’s exquisite.
“D-Devil,” I whisper as my senses reassemble, and I realize his intent. Drive me insane.
“Angel,” he praises, still petting my dampening hair. “So beautiful. Tell me you’ll stay with me. That I can give you what you need, oui?”
“No,” I counter forcefully as my eyelids flutter—but he nudges the toy just enough to press against my gripping muscles, sowing incredible friction. I have to gulp at the air to survive the rippling contractions. “Can’t…”
“You can,” he insists, maddeningly calm. “In a few days, you’ve made me rethink my entire life’s trajectory. I think you can readjust your stubborn beliefs. Tell me you will.”
But I have. I’ve thought of what life could be with him, even playing house with a child who doesn’t even know he exists. It sounds sick on paper. In reality? It could be so very good, and I’m terrified by just how appealing it seems.
Because every sense in my brain is telling me that nothing could ever be that good. Run away. Disengage. Kill that hope now before it festers.
“You belong with me.” His voice. It’s sin, falling into a deep, smooth cadence that renders me gasping. “I told you once to ask yourself… Would I ever let you go? From the moment you leaped on my cock as though it were a treat, I knew you were mine. You will be mine.”
He sounds mad. Too serious. This isn’t a game anymore.
Unease rises up to combat the pleasure swirling around my brain. “V-Vadim, please—” I cry out. At the back of my mind, I realize why—he shoved the toy in deeper.
“I never knew sex could be like this,” he says, sounding miles away, and yet at the same time, his voice resonates through my brain as if implanted there. “More,” he adds hoarsely. “I never knew. You think I’d let you go so easily?” He laughs as my eyes flutter to him, and I barely catch a devious grin before he thrusts the toy again. Deeper. Harder.
My back arches, jerking off the mattress. “Vadim!”
“I never knew it could be like this with another person,” he adds, his voice rasping, eyes heavy-lidded. “Tell me, do you deny it?”
“Yes,” I croak, only to gasp as he wrenches the dildo free.
“You don’t feel the same?” he wonders, his tone mocking. “Should I leave you like this?”
I shudder at the horror. “No! No!”
“Then tell me…have you ever felt this with anyone else? This pleasure?”
The toy returns, easing inside of me, and my eyes roll at the sensation.
“No,” I murmur before I can bite the word back.
“Tell me how good it feels.”
He stills again, and it’s like my body takes on a will of its own. My hips sway, seeking out more pressure. More depth.
“Tell me,” he insists, threatening to pull back.
“G-Good!” I whimper in relief as he slams the toy home. The pleasure hits like a wave. My brain goes blank, and I hear my mewling cries echoing off the walls. “So good.”
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he says thickly, and I moan in response. “So beautiful. So wet for me. Do you ache for me?”
I nearly scream as he jerks the toy. “Yes.”
And it’s true. I’m throbbing in a way that I never have. On fire.
“Tell me how badly.”
All I can do is whimper. “Please—”
“Tell me.”
“I need you. I need you.”
“Fuck, you’re incredible.” I realize somewhere within the shambles of my brain that it’s the first time I’ve heard him curse like this. Truly unrestrained. Wild. A creature unleashed from his own constraints. “Look at me, beautiful.”
With difficultly, I refocus on him, and my heart stalls. He looks magnetic. Powerful. Like a predator, looming above dying prey. “Tell me… Tell me you need me. Say it—”
“I need you,” I croak, shameless. “Please.”
“Tell me
