Obsidian: The Sentinel Code Book One, page 29
Viktor fucked my mouth slow, deliberate, hips rolling, hands gentle in my hair, voice a constant stream of praise and filth and love. “Take it. Take it all. You can do it. You were made for this. Made for me.”
I choked and swallowed, eyes streaming, spit and precome mixing on my tongue, the taste of him filling my senses, the need building higher, the pleasure unbearable.
Viktor’s cock slid free with a wet pop, spit and precome dripping down my chin, lips swollen, throat aching with loss. My lungs pulled in air sharp and greedy, but before I could beg for more, strong hands gripped my hips, pulling me up, rolling my ruined body over the sheets. My arms landed shaky beneath me, knees spread wide, back arched, my ass high and desperate for touch. The cool air brushed my skin, every inch exposed, trembling, hungry for his eyes.
A palm pressed between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest lower, arching me deeper, cock heavy and leaking onto the sheets below. Viktor knelt behind me, eyes burning into my skin. The tension in the room spiked, thick as blood, as his gaze roved over my ass, spreading me wider, fingers digging bruises into my hips. My breath stuttered, a whimper torn from my throat as he paused, just looking, just taking in the mess he’d made of me.
“Fucking perfect,” Viktor growled, reverence and hunger tangled in every word. “Could look at you like this forever. Pink and open and begging to be filled. Do you know what you do to me?”
My answer broke on a gasp as his thumbs spread my cheeks, exposing everything, making me feel helpless, owned, utterly his. The tip of his nose skimmed the curve of my ass, breath ghosting over my hole, warm and hungry. His voice vibrated low, filthy and awestruck. “This is mine. Every inch. Made to be ruined by me.”
A hot, wet tongue dragged up the seam, licking a slow, deliberate stripe, making my hips jerk, cock throbbing in the air. His spit painted me, tongue circling, teasing, not giving me what I needed, just making me shake. My fingers dug into the sheets, desperate, shameless, pushing my ass back for more.
“Beg for it,” Viktor whispered, teeth grazing the rim, tongue flicking. “Tell me what you want.”
My head dropped, words muffled by the mattress. “Eat me out,” I gasped, shame gone. “Want your mouth on my ass. Want you to get me ready. Want you to ruin me.”
Approval rumbled in his chest. Spit slicked my hole as his tongue pressed in, wet and hot, swirling, fucking me with slow, filthy strokes. The sensation sent white-hot pleasure spearing through my core, every nerve set on fire. He groaned into me, tongue working deeper, licking, tasting, worshipping, turning me inside out.
My body shuddered, hips rolling back, chasing every lick, every filthy sound he dragged from me. Viktor’s grip held me steady, strong fingers digging into my flesh, spreading me wider, opening me for more. His tongue fucked me slow, savoring every twitch, every gasp, every shameless plea I spilled into the sheets.
Wet lips latched around my hole, sucking hard, tongue plunging deep, making me sob, making my cock leak against the bed. Viktor moaned, devouring me, praising me between breaths, words thick and broken. “So fucking sweet. Could stay here all night, feast on you, make you forget your own name.”
My legs shook, knees giving out, body melting under the force of his mouth. Tongue slid lower, lapping at the skin behind my balls, then traced back up, flicking and teasing, driving me wild. His fingers spread me wider, spit running down to slick my thighs, obscene and perfect.
A hand wrapped around my cock, stroking slow and tight, the contrast almost cruel. His mouth never stopped, never relented, eating me out with single-minded devotion, tongue working my hole, teeth scraping, sucking, making me whimper and beg, lost to anything but the need to be filled, to be owned, to be fucked.
“Can you feel how desperate I am for you?” Viktor growled, voice raw. “Want to breed you. Want to make you mine, inside and out.”
A filthy, desperate moan tore from my lips as his hand squeezed my cock, thumb spreading precome over the head, wrist twisting, making me sob. His mouth pulled off with a final, wet kiss, spit cooling on my skin as he shifted lower, lips dragging over my thigh, then back up.
Without warning, Viktor dove beneath me, mouth latching onto my cock from behind, sucking me deep, tongue swirling around the head, lips pulling tight, moaning as he swallowed the taste of my need. His nose pressed to my balls, breath hot, chin slick with spit and sweat. His tongue worked the length, mouth hungry and relentless, sucking, licking, worshipping every inch.
My body collapsed forward, ass still high, Viktor’s hands squeezing my cheeks, spreading me, keeping me open as he devoured my cock, tongue pushing into the slit, tasting my release, drawing it out with every filthy, hungry movement.
Viktor’s mouth didn’t let up, tongue swirling over the swollen head, lips tight around the shaft, sucking until I couldn’t breathe, until every thought dissolved into heat and pleasure. My cock throbbed between his lips, every nerve screaming, body arched and open, ass still high, trembling for more.
His tongue dragged down, lapping up the aftershocks of my orgasm, swallowing every drop like he’d never tasted anything sweeter. Fingers massaged my ass, kneading, spreading, teasing the sensitive skin where his mouth had left it raw. I moaned into the sheets, unable to hold back, shame gone, need sharpened to a knife’s edge.
“Fuck, Viktor,” I choked out, voice hoarse and ruined. “Don’t stop. Please, want more.”
A wicked laugh vibrated against my skin, sending shivers up my spine. “Such a greedy prince,” he taunted, voice thick with pride. “Want to see how much you can take for me? How filthy you can get?”
My hips rolled, offering myself up, back arching, hole clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled, used, worshipped. His fingers slid lower, slick with spit and my own come, tracing circles around my rim, teasing, never quite pushing in.
A sharp slap landed on my ass, the sting blooming hot and electric, making my cock twitch back to life. The echo of it filled the room, shame and pleasure tangling until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“One,” Viktor whispered, and a single finger pressed in, slow and relentless, stretching me, making me gasp. The burn was perfect, the pressure just right, tongue lapping at my slit as he fucked me with that single finger, working me open.
Another slap, harder this time, left me moaning, hips jerking, ass high, begging for more. “Two,” he growled, pushing in a second finger beside the first, scissoring me open, working me slow, patient, every movement designed to drive me wild.
My hands fisted the sheets, forehead pressed to the mattress, body shaking with need. “Yes, fuck, yes,” I gasped, pushing back onto his hand, desperate to be stretched, filled, ruined.
A third slap landed, sharper, the pain making me groan, cock leaking against the sheets. “Three,” Viktor said, and a third finger joined the others, stretching me wider, filling me up. His thumb massaged my bruised flesh, soothing the ache, tongue licking up the mess he’d made.
The rhythm built—spank, finger, stretch, praise—each slap harder, each finger a new invasion, each gasp a new confession. “Filthy prince,” Viktor purred, voice shaking with pride. “You take it so well. Never seen anyone so hungry to be used.”
A fourth slap made me scream, body arching, hole fluttering around his fingers as he pushed a fourth one in, the stretch burning, perfect, overwhelming. “Four,” he counted, breath hot against my hole, tongue flicking, teasing, licking where his fingers split me wide.
Every thrust made me see stars, body split between pleasure and pain, humiliation and pride. I couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stop begging, moaning, grinding back onto his hand. My cock dripped, hard again, every nerve on fire.
The fifth slap left my ass stinging, raw, desperate for more. “Five,” Viktor growled, voice feral. His whole hand worked into me, five thick fingers stretching me wide, palm grinding against my rim, making me sob and beg and shake.
My body surrendered, every muscle melting under his control, every part of me begging for more, for everything. Viktor’s hand fucked me slow, deep, thumb pressing against the base of my spine, fingers curling to stroke the spot that made me see white.
“You’re so fucking open for me,” Viktor praised, breathless, pride and possession tangled in every word. “Look at you, prince—split on my hand, dripping, desperate. You love it, don’t you? Love being my filthy little thing.”
All I could do was moan, cock throbbing, hole clenching, body quaking as he worked me, filled me, owned me. His fingers twisted, spreading me wider, making me whimper, making me plead for more.
“Beg for it,” Viktor demanded, voice low, dangerous. “Tell me you want to be used. Tell me you want to be ruined.”
“Want it,” I gasped, voice broken, raw. “Want you to ruin me, want to be used, want to be your toy, your prince, your whore. Please, Viktor. Please.”
A filthy sound of approval slipped from his lips. His fingers pulled out slowly, leaving me empty, shaking, ruined. Spit and slick dripped down my thighs, the mess obscene, perfect. His hand smeared the mess over my ass, then pressed to my mouth, fingers sticky, wet, demanding entry.
“Open,” Viktor ordered. I obeyed, tongue lapping at his fingers, sucking them deep, tasting myself, licking every inch clean. He fed them to me one at a time, pushing past my lips, fucking my mouth with his hand the way he’d just fucked my ass.
“That’s it,” Viktor growled, pride and love tangled with filth. “Take it all. Show me you love it. Show me you were made for this.”
My mouth worked over his fingers, sucking, licking, moaning as he fed me the taste of myself, the taste of us, the taste of everything we’d done. His free hand stroked my hair, gentle for a moment, thumb caressing my cheek, then gripped my jaw, holding me open, letting spit and slick drip down my chin.
His cock pressed to my ass, hard and leaking, the promise of more hanging in the air, thick and electric. “You ready for me, prince?” Viktor whispered, voice shaking, full of awe and want. “Ready to be fucked, to be bred, to be made mine all over again?”
“Please,” I begged, voice shaking, body open, soul laid bare. “Please, Viktor. Give me everything. Fill me, own me, make me yours.”
His fingers left my mouth with a wet pop, thumb smearing spit over my lips. His body pressed in close, cock sliding between my cheeks, teasing my hole, the promise of everything I wanted, everything I needed.
His cock slid between my cheeks, hot and heavy, smearing precome over my spit-slicked skin. Each thrust, just a tease, made my body arch, my ass open and clench with desperate hunger. I’d have begged for anything—pain, pleasure, everything in between—if it meant he’d finally give me what I needed.
A growl rumbled through his chest, sharp teeth scraping my shoulder. “Where’s the lube, prince? Tell me.”
My mind scrambled, drunk on sensation, but I managed to gasp out, “Nightstand. Top drawer.” My voice sounded ruined, almost foreign, shredded by want and worship.
Viktor’s weight disappeared for a second, bed shifting beneath his knees as he reached out, yanking open the drawer, the sharp sound of a bottle uncapped making my hole twitch with anticipation. His palm returned, warm and commanding, smearing a generous, slick mess over his cock, stroking himself with rough, greedy fists. Wet, obscene noises filled the room as he coated every inch, fingers working lube into my rim, pushing in, stretching me further, making me gasp, shake, beg.
“Going to ruin you,” Viktor promised, voice ragged, trembling with hunger. “Want you loose for me, dripping for me, stretched so wide you’ll feel it for days.” Two thick fingers twisted inside me, working the lube deeper, scissoring me open, thumb rubbing circles around the bruised, swollen flesh. I sobbed for it, pressing back, wanting to be broken, to be filled so completely I’d never be whole without him again.
A sharp slap cracked against my ass, the sting sending a jolt straight to my cock. “Filthy thing,” Viktor growled, pride and affection tangled in the words. “Begging for it, all open, all mine. You want to be fucked, don’t you? Want to be used, filled, bred?”
“Yes, yes, yes—” Words tumbled from my mouth, each more desperate, more honest, than the last. “Please, Viktor, fuck me, ruin me, want it so bad, want you to fuck your cum into me, make me yours, make me feel it.”
The blunt head of his cock pressed against my slick, needy hole, threatening, promising. Viktor gripped my hips, thumbs digging bruises into bone, spreading me wider, lining himself up. My body shook with anticipation, knees digging into the sheets, back arched, ass high, ready to be split open.
A low, filthy curse slipped from his lips as he started to push in, slow at first, forcing my body to give, to surrender, to open around the thick, burning stretch. Every inch dragged a guttural moan from me, pleasure and pain blurring into something transcendent.
Viktor didn’t pause once he’d breached me, hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt in one long, devastating thrust. The force knocked the air from my lungs, left me gasping, mind blank except for the stretch, the fullness, the electric ache of being finally, completely taken.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” Viktor panted, voice barely more than a growl. “So fucking tight, so fucking hungry for it. You love this, don’t you? Love getting fucked, love being filled.”
A hand cracked down on my ass, sharp and claiming. “Answer me,” he commanded, hips rolling, cock grinding deep, pressing against my sweet spot until I saw stars.
“I love it, fuck, I love it, Viktor,” I gasped, tears streaking down my face, voice shaking with need. “No one’s ever fucked me like this. No one’s ever made me feel like this. Please, harder, more—need it—need you.”
Viktor grinned, savage and wild, and began to fuck me in earnest. Each thrust slammed into me, forcing helpless sounds from my throat, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. His hand never stopped moving, alternating between stroking my cock, spanking my ass, gripping my hips, branding me with every touch.
“Want you ruined,” he snarled, thrusts getting rougher, deeper, cock splitting me open, stretching me until I didn’t know where he ended and I began. “Want you fucked out, used up, dripping with my cum. Going to fill you so deep you leak for days, prince. Going to make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
My body arched into every spank, every thrust, each slap making my hole clench around him, making his cock throb deeper inside me. The heat, the sting, the shame and the pleasure—every part of it fed the hunger inside me, drove me higher.
“Fucking beg for it,” Viktor ordered, voice ragged, losing control. “Tell me how much you want it. Tell me you’re my perfect little whore.”
“I’m yours,” I sobbed, cock leaking onto the sheets, mind shattering beneath the force of his will. “Your whore, your prince, your everything. Want your cum, want it in me, want to feel it dripping out, want to be used, marked, owned—please, Viktor, give it to me, give me everything.”
His pace grew merciless, hips pistoning, cock battering my spot with every thrust, hand gripping my hair, pulling my head back so he could spit into my open mouth, claiming me, filling me everywhere at once.
Spit dripped down my chin, Viktor’s voice dark and reverent. “Take it. Take everything. I want to see you fall apart on my cock.”
My body rocked under every slam of his hips, thighs burning, knees going weak, skin on fire where his hands bruised and claimed. Each thrust sent shockwaves through my core, cock pressed between my body and the ruined sheets, leaking, smearing every frantic movement with the slick evidence of my need. Viktor’s voice was a constant growl in my ear, words tangled between praise and filth, each one driving me closer to the edge.
A fist in my hair dragged my head up, back arching, chest lifted off the sheets, my ass slamming back into his hips, every inch of me open and exposed for him. My hands scrabbled for purchase, found the headboard, knuckles white with the effort of holding myself together. Sweat and spit mixed down my spine, every nerve raw and ready to unravel.
Viktor’s other hand slid up my ribs, fingers pinching, twisting, dragging nails over my nipple before moving down to stroke my cock in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his fist had me gasping, body jerking, brain flickering out between pleasure and need.
“Need you on top,” Viktor grunted, voice tight with restraint and hunger. “Want to see you ride me. Want to watch you fuck yourself open, want to see those pretty eyes when you take me deep.”
A hand gripped my waist, lifting and twisting, flipping my body without losing the connection, cock never slipping free. Viktor settled on his back, pulling me up, guiding me to straddle his hips, thighs spread wide, ass still aching and open, cock throbbing as I hovered over him.
The room spun, sweat dripping from my skin, as I let myself sink back down onto him, impaling myself slow, feeling every thick inch stretch me, fill me, claim me again. Viktor’s hands settled on my hips, thumbs pressing bruises into flesh, holding me steady as I ground down, rolling my hips, loving the burn, the fullness, the pure animal need.
Gravity did half the work—every bounce, every grind, Viktor buried so deep inside I felt him in my gut. My hands roamed my own chest, pinching and pulling my nipples, twisting the sensitive peaks until pain and pleasure blurred, every nerve alight. My head tipped back, mouth falling open, moans spilling out, wanton and filthy.
“Fuck yourself on me,” Viktor demanded, voice pure gravel, hand sliding up to wrap around my cock, stroking in time with my frantic rhythm. “Show me how much you love it, how much you need to be ruined.”
My hips snapped, riding him with reckless abandon, cock slapping against his abs, leaking over his fist, my hands pinching both nipples at once, chasing sharper sensation, keening with every roll of my hips.
“Harder,” I begged, nails digging into my own chest, back arched, sweat running down my body in messy rivers. “Deeper, Viktor, please, fuck, don’t stop, never stop—”
