Chapter 28: Oral Demands
The lingering scent of Rhys’s cigar smoke clung to Sera’s hair and the silk robe she’d hastily thrown on after her shower, a dark echo of the underground lounge he’d just returned from. She stood before the heavy oak door of the master suite, fingertips resting lightly on the cool wood, the memory of his hands pinning her against it two months prior – the tearing fabric, the brutal claiming – sending a familiar, unwelcome shiver down her spine and a treacherous throb between her legs. The phantom sting of that spanking still resonated sometimes, a low hum beneath her skin, a reminder of ownership etched in pain and pleasure.
The door swung inward before she could turn the handle. Rhys filled the space, backlit by the warm glow of the bedroom. His tie was loose, the top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, revealing the stark black lines of tattooed script curling up his throat. His eyes, sharp and assessing even shadowed by the dim hall light, raked over her.
"Finished hiding?" His voice was low, rough-edged from smoke and something else, something darker. He stepped forward, forcing her back. The door clicked shut behind them with finality, sealing them into the opulent silence of the bedroom. Velvet drapes held back the night, candlelight flickering on gilded frames.
"I wasn't hiding," Sera murmured, her voice small. She instinctively clutched the robe tighter at her throat, the silk suddenly flimsy armor. "I just showered."
Rhys didn’t answer. He closed the distance in two strides. His hands gripped her waist, hard, spinning her around to face the door. Her palms slapped against the cold, polished wood. His larger body pressed flush against her back, solid and unyielding, pinning her. The heat of him seeped through the thin silk robe, the ridge of his erection already unmistakable against the curve of her ass.
"Two hours at that tedious fucking charity luncheon with your mother," he growled, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. One hand slid around her hip, fingers sliding beneath the robe's sash, finding the bare skin of her lower belly. "Listening to her simper about debutantes and trust funds. Smiling like a goddamn puppet." His fingers dipped lower, tracing the elastic edge of her panties. She felt the dampness already soaking through the lace, betraying her. "While I know what you really are. What you need."
His fingers hooked into the delicate lace at her hip. A sharp, brutal yank. The fabric tore with a sickening riiiip, shredded lace dangling uselessly. Cool air hit her exposed sex, making her flinch. His hand didn’t stop. Rough fingers slid through her wet folds, spreading her open, dipping shallowly inside her cunt. A choked gasp escaped her.
Rhys leaned closer, his free hand tangling in her damp blonde hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder. His mouth crashed down on hers. Not a kiss. An invasion. His tongue plunged deep, demanding, claiming, tasting the faint mint of her toothpaste and the lingering fear on her lips. It was possessive, punishing, stealing her breath. She whimpered, trapped between the hard wood and his harder body, his fingers working her slick flesh with cruel expertise.
He broke the kiss abruptly, leaving her lips swollen and wet. His mouth hovered near her ear, his breath ragged. "Beg prettier," he commanded, his voice a guttural rasp. The hand between her legs stilled, two fingers buried knuckle-deep inside her clutching heat, applying torturous pressure against her inner walls.
Sera trembled, humiliation warring with the desperate ache he’d ignited. "Please, Rhys..." she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Not good enough." He withdrew his fingers slowly, the drag deliberate, leaving her clenching around emptiness. He dropped to his knees behind her. The sound of his belt buckle scraping the floor was obscenely loud. Hot breath ghosted over her exposed, dripping slit, making her inner muscles clench reflexively. His thumbs hooked into the cheeks of her ass, spreading her wider, exposing the tight furl of her asshole, still faintly pink and sensitive from his earlier claim. He blew softly, the air cool where she was slick and hot. "Tell Daddy," he murmured, the endearment a dark, twisted lure, "exactly how you want his tongue to ruin you."
The words, the position, the utter vulnerability – it ignited a wildfire inside her. Shame burned her cheeks, but the heat pooling low in her belly was undeniable, fierce. Her hips rocked back slightly, seeking that devastating breath against her needy flesh. "Tongue me," she breathed, the words thick with want. "Please, Daddy... use your tongue."
"Where?" His voice was a low thrum against her wetness. He nuzzled the crease of her thigh, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making her jump. "Be specific, princess. This greedy little fuckhole?" His thumb brushed roughly over her swollen clit. "Or this tight ass I fucked raw?"
She whimpered, her forehead pressing hard against the cool wood. "Both," she gasped, the admission torn from her. "Everywhere. Ruin me, Daddy.Please. Lick my pussy. Lick my ass." Her voice cracked. "Make me scream."
A dark chuckle vibrated against her skin. "That's my good girl." He didn’t hesitate.
His tongue, hot and broad and relentless, speared into her dripping cunt. Not teasing, not exploring. Devouring. He fucked her with his tongue, deep, hard strokes that mimicked his cock, plunging in, curling against her front wall, finding that spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids. Sera cried out, arching back against his mouth, her fingers scrabbling against the door. He pulled back, lapping at her slickness, swirling around her clit with bruising pressure before burying his face deeper, his nose pressing against her clit as his tongue drove inside again. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room – the slick slide of his tongue, her gasps and high-pitched whines, his low grunts of satisfaction.
Just as she was spiraling towards the edge, his mouth left her throbbing pussy. She felt the broad, wet flat of his tongue trace the crease of her ass, lapping up the arousal dripping down from her cunt. The sensation was shocking, filthy. Then, the pointed tip pressed firmly against her tightest hole. She froze.
"Breathe out," he ordered, his voice muffled against her flesh. She exhaled sharply, a ragged sob escaping as he pushed. His tongue, insistent and violating, breached the outer ring of her asshole. The stretch burned, the intimacy profound and degrading. He worked the tight muscle, circling, pressing inward, forcing the resistant opening to yield. The drag of his stubble scraped the delicate skin of her inner thighs.
He alternated, brutally. Plunging his tongue deep into her dripping, clenching cunt, making her cry out with the raw pleasure-pain of it, then immediately withdrawing to assault her tight, protesting asshole, lapping and probing, stretching her obscenely wide with his tongue alone. Each switch was a shock, a violation, pushing her higher, blurring the lines between agony and ecstasy. Her knees trembled, her cries became ragged screams muffled against the door. She was stretched open, claimed inside and out, owned by the relentless heat and skill of his mouth.
"Fuck, you taste good," he groaned against her ass, his tongue delving deeper into the forbidden heat, twisting. "This nasty little hole loves it." He punctuated it with a sharp slap on her ass cheek, the sting merging with the intense sensations between her legs. "Gonna lick you clean. Gonna lick every drop from this greedy fuckhole and this dirty ass." He pressed his face fully into her, his tongue spearing into her ass while his thumb found her clit again, rubbing hard, fast circles.
The dual assault was too much, too intense, too degrading. Sera shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her, violent and overwhelming, a convulsive wave that locked her muscles, arched her back impossibly, and tore a raw, guttural scream from her throat that echoed off the door. Her cunt pulsed violently around the invading thrusts of his tongue, her asshole clenching desperately on the probing intrusion, flooding his mouth with her release.
Rhys held her there, pinned, as the tremors subsided into weak shivers. He lapped roughly at her oversensitive flesh, cleaning her, claiming every drop. Slowly, he stood. His hands gripped her hips, turning her around to face him. Her silk robe hung open, revealing her flushed, trembling body. Her hair was wild, tears streaked her cheeks, her eyes wide and dazed. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable, his lips glistening wetly.
Without a word, he scooped her up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. Her head lolled against his shoulder, exhaustion and the aftershocks of pleasure-pain rendering her limp. He carried her towards the vast four-poster bed, the silk sheets gleaming in the candlelight. His stride was purposeful. She knew the claiming wasn’t over. It had only just begun. The door at her back was forgotten. The only reality was Rhys, and the devastating ruin he could wrought.
Rhys dumped her onto the silk sheets with jarring force, the cool fabric a shock against her overheated skin. She bounced once, the robe splaying open completely, leaving her naked and exposed under his predatory gaze. He stood at the foot of the bed, pulling his shirt off with impatient tugs, buttons scattering like tiny, discarded pearls across the floor. The candlelight played over the intricate tattoos mapping his chest and shoulders, over the hard planes of his abdomen, shadows pooling in the dips between muscle. His erection strained obscenely against the fly of his tailored trousers, the fabric darkening with pre-cum at the tip.
"Look at you," he rasped, his voice thick with lust and something darker, fiercer. He undid his belt buckle with a metallic snick, the sound harsh in the heavy silence. "Sprawled like a fucking offering. Still dripping my spit out of that greedy little ass." His eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, raked over her sprawled form – the pink flush on her punished ass cheeks visible even in the dim light, the glistening mess between her legs. He toed off his shoes, kicked his trousers and boxers down in one fluid motion. His cock sprang free, thick and veined, the head glistening purple-red under the golden glow. He gripped himself, giving one slow, deliberate stroke, his gaze never leaving hers. "Hands and knees. Now."
The command snapped through her lingering daze. Sera scrambled, the silk slippery beneath her knees, pushing herself onto all fours. Her back arched instinctively, presenting her dripping cunt and the sore, stretched pucker of her ass towards him. Shame warred with a deep, thrumming ache that pulsed low in her belly. She felt him move behind her, the heat of his body radiating against her exposed skin. The broad head of his cock nudged roughly against her wet folds, sliding through her slickness, bumping against her swollen clit. She gasped, her hips jerking back involuntarily.
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through her bones. "Eager slut." His hand clamped down hard on her hip, fingers digging into the flesh he’d reddened earlier. "But Daddy decides where you get filled tonight." Without warning, the slick, blunt pressure returned to her asshole. He used his own cockhead this time, coated liberally in her arousal, pressing insistently against the tight ring of muscle still tender from his tongue. "Breathe out, princess," he ordered, his voice a guttural command. "Push back on it. Take my cock in that filthy hole."
Panic flared. Her asshole clenched instinctively, resisting. The memory of the burning stretch, the violation of his thumb, was raw. "Rhys, please... not that... not again..." she whimpered, the plea thin and desperate.
His free hand tangled brutally in her hair, yanking her head back. "You begged for ruin," he snarled, his breath hot on her neck. "You screamed for my tongue in your ass. Now you take my cock. All of it." He pressed harder, the thick crown threatening to breach her. "Push back! Show me you mean it. Show me you're mine to wreck." The pressure intensified, unrelenting, a demand etched in pain. Trapped between his iron grip on her hair and his cock forcing entry, she obeyed. Sera pushed her hips back weakly, a choked sob escaping her as the thick, burning intrusion began. He surged forward at the same moment.
Fire. White-hot, tearing fire radiated from her asshole as the massive head breached her resistance. She screamed, her body arching, muscles locking rigid. He didn't stop. He pushed deeper, a relentless, brutal invasion, stretching her obscenely wide. Tears streamed down her face as he buried himself to the hilt with one punishing thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, excruciating – a fullness and burning agony that consumed her. "Fuck! Fuck, Rhys!" she cried, her voice raw.
"Tightest fucking hole I've ever had," he groaned, his own voice strained with the effort and the intense pressure clamping down on his cock. He held himself deep, unmoving for a moment, letting her adjust to the impossible stretch, his fingers still knotted painfully in her hair. "Burns, doesn't it?" he rasped, grinding his hips shallowly, making her whimper. "Feels like I'm splitting you in half." He pulled back slightly, the drag sending fresh waves of fire through her core, then slammed home again, hard. "Good. Remember this burn. Remember who owns every fucking inch of you."
He started to fuck her ass in earnest. Short, hard strokes at first, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in with brutal force. The wet, obscene sound of his cock pistoning into her tightest hole filled the room, mingling with her ragged sobs and his harsh grunts. Pain was the dominant sensation, a deep, tearing ache with every thrust, but beneath it, woven through the agony, was a terrifying echo of pleasure. The sheer dominance, the utter helplessness, the brutal claiming of her most forbidden place... it resonated in the dark core of her submission. Her cunt, untouched, dripped freely onto the silk sheets beneath her.
"Look," he commanded, his voice thick with exertion. He wrenched her head sideways, forcing her gaze towards the gilded mirror on the far wall. The reflection was obscene: her tear-streaked face contorted, his powerful body driving into her upraised ass, his cock buried deep in her tight pucker, her own arousal gleaming on the sheets. "See what you look like taking my cock in the ass?" He slammed into her hard, making her reflection jolt violently. "See that greedy cunt dripping while I wreck your other hole?" He thrust again, grinding deep. "Filthy little princess. Made for this. Born for Daddy's cock stretching you raw."
The visual shattered her remaining resistance. Seeing herself impaled, used, tears streaming, her body betraying her with its slickness despite the agony – it unlocked a terrifying wave of surrender. Her ass muscles clenched involuntarily around his invading length, a desperate, involuntary spasm. "Yours!" she gasped, the word a broken sob. "Only yours, Daddy! Wreck me!" Her inner walls fluttered wildly around his cock buried deep in her ass, the conflicting sensations – sharp pain and deep, degrading fullness – coiling into a terrifyingly intense pressure low in her belly. Another climax, born purely of brutal submission and violation, began to claw its way up her spine.
He felt the clench. He roared, a raw animal sound. "Fuck yes! Squeeze that cock!" His rhythm turned frenzied, savage, hammering into her ass with punishing force, each thrust driving her forward onto her hands. His grip on her hair was the only anchor.
The brutal rhythm of Rhys’s hips hammered into her, each thrust a searing brand deep in her violated ass. Her vision blurred, tears mixing with sweat on the silk sheets beneath her cheek, the reflection in the gilded mirror a horrifying, erotic tableau of her own degradation – face contorted, blonde hair snarled in his fist, ass raised high, his thick cock pistoning relentlessly into her tight, burning hole. "Filthy little princess," he growled, his voice shredded by exertion, grinding deep, making her gasp. "Dripping fucking cunt while I wreck your ass. Admit you love it. Admit you're mine to ruin."
The tearing stretch, the raw power pinning her, the humiliating visual – it coalesced into a terrifying wave. Not pleasure, but pure, desperate surrender. A sound ripped from her throat, half-sob, half-scream. It wasn't conscious thought. Pure instinct. Sera wrenched one hand free from its clawing grip on the sheets. She flung it back wildly, fingers scrambling, searching for purchase on the sweat-slicked skin of his hip, his flank, anywhere. She found the hard ridge of his hip bone, then the taut muscle of his lower abdomen. Her nails, unpainted but sharp, dug in. Sank deep. Raked downward with frantic, animal need.
"FUCK!" Rhys roared. Not anger. Raw, ragged agony and ecstasy fused into one explosive sound. Her desperate claws tearing into his skin, the vicious sting merging with the unbearable tightness of her ass convulsing around his cock, triggered the detonation. His entire body locked, rigid as stone behind her. His grip on her hair became a vise, yanking her head back impossibly further. A guttural, wordless bellow tore from his chest as he slammed home one final, brutal time, burying himself to the root in her clenching asshole. She felt the thick, hot pulse deep inside her, jet after scalding jet flooding the tight channel he'd ravaged. His hips jerked erratically, grinding, forcing his cum deeper as he emptied himself with shuddering force.
He collapsed forward, his massive weight driving her down into the mattress, his cock still buried impossibly deep, pulsing weakly. His breath came in ragged, wet gasps against her shoulder blade, his chest heaving against her back. The hand in her hair finally loosened, sliding down to grip her shoulder, pinning her still beneath him. The only sounds were their harsh, uneven breathing, the wet drip of her arousal from her untouched cunt onto the sheets beneath her belly, and the faint, obscene trickle of his cum escaping around the base of his cock where it remained lodged in her ass. The air hung thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and the coppery tang of blood from the deep scratches she’d gouged into his skin. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just held her there, impaled and claimed, in the wreckage.
The weight crushed her. Rhys’s body pressed Sera deep into the yielding silk, his cock still buried thick and unmoving in her ravaged ass. His harsh breaths fanned hot and damp against her shoulder blade, his chest a solid wall against her trembling back. The sharp sting of her claw marks on his flank throbbed faintly beneath her fingertips, sticky with blood. Silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the frantic drumming of her own heart and the obscene, wet drip of her neglected cunt onto the sheets beneath her belly.
Slowly, agonizingly, he shifted. Not withdrawing. Just enough to lift his head. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, the touch unexpectedly soft against the brutality that preceded it. "Those scratches," he murmured, his voice a low, rasping vibration that sent a fresh tremor through her pinned body. "Deep, princess. Drew fucking blood." His hand slid from her shoulder, down the curve of her spine slick with sweat, coming to rest possessively on the heated, punished swell of her ass cheek. He squeezed, the pressure firm, reigniting the dull ache beneath the deeper burn inside her.
Then, sharp and sudden, his palm cracked down. A hard, stinging smack right where his fingers had just been. She gasped, flinching against him, the impact jolting through her sore muscles and making his cock shift minutely within her stretched channel. "Fuck!" she cried out, the sound muffled by the pillow.
He chuckled, dark and low, the sound vibrating against her skin. His fingers traced the fresh sting he’d just inflicted, then slid lower, dipping into the slick mess where his cock met her asshole, gathering the mingled fluids leaking out. "Hurts good, doesn't it?" he breathed against her ear. He brought his wet fingers to her mouth, pressing them roughly against her lips. "Taste it. Taste what you made me do to you." The metallic tang of blood mixed with the musk of sex and sweat filled her mouth as she instinctively licked, humiliation warring with a perverse thrill. "I like it," he growled, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "When you fight back like that." He smacked her ass again, another sharp, stinging blow that made her jerk. "Little fucking wildcat. Makes claiming you even sweeter." His hips ground forward, pushing his softening cock deeper for a final, possessive moment before he finally, slowly, pulled out.
The sudden emptiness was profound. A hollow, aching void where brutal fullness had been. She felt his cum, thick and hot, trickle out of her abused hole, dripping onto her inner thigh. Cool air hit the stretched, burning ring of muscle, making her gasp. Rhys rolled off her, collapsing onto his back beside her on the rumpled silk, breathing heavily. The candlelight glinted off the sweat sheening his tattooed chest and the dark, angry scratches raked across his hip and abdomen, welling tiny beads of blood. He looked wrecked. Powerful. Utterly satisfied.
Sera lay frozen on her belly, trembling, her face still pressed into the pillow damp with tears and sweat. The sting of the fresh smacks pulsed on her ass, layered over the deep, throbbing ache inside. Her cunt still pulsed emptily, slick and needy. Shame burned her cheeks, but beneath it, coiling like smoke, was that treacherous heat his words had ignited. He liked it. He liked her fighting back. The revelation was terrifying, exhilarating. It changed the shape of her surrender.
Rhys turned his head on the pillow, his piercing gaze locking onto her profile. He reached out, calloused fingers brushing a damp strand of blonde hair from her sticky cheek. The touch was almost gentle. "Look at me, Sera." His voice was quieter now, but no less commanding.
Slowly, trembling, she turned her head. Her wide, innocent eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, met his. The vulnerability there was stark, laid bare after the storm. He traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb, his gaze intense, searching. "That fire," he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "Don't you fucking hide it from me again." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her face. "Next time you feel like scratching," his lips brushed hers, a ghost of a kiss, "you use your teeth." The promise, the dark invitation in his words, sent a fresh jolt of pure, electric fear and desire straight to her core. His hand slid down her flank, over the curve of her hip, coming to rest possessively on her stinging ass cheek again. "Understood?"
Her breath hitched. The Fairytale Estate hallway flashed – cold marble, helplessness, the brutal claiming. The discarded bracelet. Dmitri’s predatory gaze. The suffocating cage. Only Rhys offered this terrifying, electric truth. Only he saw the fire beneath the ice. She nodded, a tiny, jerky movement against the pillow. "Yes," she whispered, the word thick with tears and a terrifying new understanding. "Understood, Rhys." Her hand, trembling, reached out tentatively, her fingertips brushing the edge of the deepest scratch on his abdomen, tracing the raised welt. A silent acknowledgment. A dangerous acceptance. The hunt wasn't over. It had just evolved. He owned her fire now, too.