Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 100796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Her anxiety ratcheted up, and her eyes went wide with fear when she saw it.
“Whatever I want,” I reminded in a hiss. “Stand up.”
I ignored how she was trembling, tore a strip off, and plunked the roll down on the piano keys. The noisy, unsettling sound echoed under the ceiling. Her heels clicked frantically and she stumbled when I pulled her around to the other side of the bench. I wanted her behind it, facing the piano, and I put a hand on her back, shoving her forward.
“Down,” I growled. “Knees on the floor.”
Oksana took in huge gulps of breath, but did as told. She knelt behind the black lacquered bench, and tucked a lock of her hair behind an ear, probably too nervous to know what to do.
“Lean over and grab the legs.” I guided her to set her chest against the flat of the wood, and watched her hands curl around the uprights. The piano was my mother’s, and I didn’t want to damage it, so I knelt beside her and wrapped the strip of tape with the sticky side out around both her wrist and the piano bench leg. I fumbled for the roll of tape and tore off another strip. This one I used to cover the sticky part.
“Vasilije, I—” she whispered as I worked to do her other wrist with the same technique.
“Shut the fuck up.” I didn’t want to hear a goddamn thing from her right now.
When I finished, I looked at my work and a surge of lust hit me. I was depraved. The Russian girl kneeling over the bench and bound to it was shuddering, and it got worse when I trailed my fingertips over the length of her spine. Her lies had left me feeling weak, but the control I had now settled the emotions churning inside.
It helped me focus on a goal.
Her head hung down and the curtain of her hair draped to the floor. I had total access to her body, and she had to be expecting me to start taking my anger out on her ass any second. But she’d be wrong. I jerked the back of her panties down, exposing her nakedness, and jammed two fingers inside her pussy.
“Oh,” she groaned. Didn’t sound like she’d enjoyed what I’d done, but I didn’t fucking care. I didn’t do it for her benefit.
“I want you wet, so I can shove my cock inside you, you lying cunt.”
She gasped at my brutal words, but her body tightened on my fingers. I pumped them in and out, watching them grow slicker with each deep thrust. The muscles flexed in her back as she tried to move her arms. Did she hate being tied up? Completely at my mercy? Or did the girl like it?
I did.
I yanked my fingers out of her, undid my jeans, and dug out my nearly hard dick. My brain was still beyond pissed, but I needed my body to get on board. I spat in my hand and stroked myself. Liar or spy, the whore was still my property.
Wasn’t she a whore? Fucking me only because she needed something?
I moved behind her and urged her knees apart. They slid easily across the wood because of the sexy thigh-highs I’d bought her. I held my dick steady and ran the tip along her seam, half expecting her to tell me to stop, and not sure I would if she did.
Instead, she sighed.
I gave her all of my dick in one cruel thrust. She gasped and made a choked sound, but said nothing. I delivered another vicious thrust, stabbing into her tight heat, and tried not to lose focus.
For the first time, I was fucking with the goal of not getting the girl off. Oksana needed to feel as used as I did, and I established a brutal tempo, driving my body deep inside her. I let the anger at her betrayal fuel me.
She groaned when I clenched a handful of hair at the top of her head and jerked her back so she was staring at the ceiling. I was savage with her. I braced my other hand on her hip while I fucked her, and the slap of my body hitting hers was as loud as it was whenever I spanked her.
She grunted. It sounded like pain mixed with pleasure.
I let go of her hair and tore my shirt up over my head. I was on goddamn fire, consumed with rage. “Tell me to stop,” I challenged.
She stayed silent.
I knew a way to get her to back down. I snatched up the plastic bag, stuck a hand inside, and grabbed the bottle of lube. I dumped two pumps’-worth in between her cheeks and, as she tensed, a joyless grin spread across my face.
“Tell me to stop,” I goaded.