Filthy Secret

ACTION

My head fogged as I crawled to him, lips parting. If this was to be the last time I actually wanted a guy, I might as well relish it. I didn’t consent to this place, to the way I was being treated, or to the

crippling inevitability of my fate, but perhaps this could be one last semblance of desire. My gaze flitted to his before I wrapped my mouth around his crown.

“Hell, yeah.” Gripping the back of my head, he pushed me down to the base of his shaft, only releasing me when I gagged. Eyes watering, I gasped for air, but his fist shoved me back to where he wanted me.

“Swallow me down.”

Tugging against the length of rope secured to my neck, I grasped his thighs and complied, breathing in the scent of him. I was pleased to find he was not only clean but smelled of an alluring, spicy cologne, a scent that made me giddy. Settling into position as a vessel he could fuck, I reveled in the act more than I’d thought I would. I wanted him to use me, to take his pleasure because bizarrely, I recognized a hedonism of my own. There was a satisfaction in yielding, in giving him what he craved because I desired it as well. My every sense was heightened by the idea. Dylan would be the last man I ever said yes to.

“Fuck.” Holding my hair, he yanked me away, a trail of saliva falling between us as he stripped away his shirt. “That’s too good. This will be over if I don’t take a moment.”

Catching my breath, I couldn’t decide if that was a positive.

“Come here.”

He dragged me from the bed, turning me and pushing me over the covers. I went like a rag doll, conscious if he was going to garner gratification from the next round, so would I. I deserved it.

“Legs apart!” Dylan barked, slapping my ass as he fisted my hair. The rope at my neck tightened as I straightened and slid my feet wider, already aware of his cocktip at my sex. Closing my eyes, I waited, knowing what would happen next, knowing I had no choice but wanting him all the same.

He impaled me with one sharp lunge, filling me so fast, I gasped. I might have enjoyed the sensation more had his fingers not tightened, forcing my back to arch as he withdrew and slammed into me.

“Fuck!” He thrust harder, the motion jerking my breasts forward as he took his fill. “Do you like that, bitch?”

My brow creased, the insult not reconciling with the man who had turned up the thermostat and taped a vibrator to my clit, but I had to remember-every man here had volunteered for a reason, and Dylan was no different. More attractive perhaps, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t brutal, didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear through boundaries for gratification.

“Do you?” He yanked my tresses harder, fire lighting at my scalp.

“Yes,” I winced.

“What?” Withdrawing, he spanked my right ass cheek firmly.

“Yes, Sir.” Lost to his authority, I was caught between his palms, cock, and the infernal fetters.

“Better,” he growled, sliding into my pussy again. “Don’t fucking forget it.”

Pushing me forward, he climbed onto the bed, cocooning my body. Flat against the covers, I was pinned in place as his length rammed me.

“Fuck.” I grasped the bedding, overwrought with the competing sensations.

“What was that, little girl?” He forced me to meet his gaze, his fingers relaxing as our eyes locked. “Got something to say?”

“N-No, Sir,” I just managed as he increased the pace, propelling his cock into me over and over.

Trembling, I absorbed his vigor, my toes curling as I took it all. His lids closed, body tensing as he reached orgasm, driving his cum into my sex. Panting, I tried not to overthink the act. Plenty of other guys had screwed me, sometimes without condoms. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean I would be pregnant.

His hips stilled, cock still lodged deep within as his gaze drilled into me. “Fuck, you feel good.” Lowering his face, his mouth brushed over mine.

“Maybe I’ll have you again.”

For a long moment, time protracted, our bodies fused as he stared at me, then just as I thought I would implode with the intensity, he pulled away, leaving me panting over the bed.

“What’s next?”

I twisted to find him staring down at the pile of paperwork on the clipboard as he fastened his zipper, and for the first time, I could properly take in the sight of his body. Stripped to the waist, he looked like one of those male models I’d seen on the covers of magazines, his muscular chest tapering to washboard abs and honed obliques.

“You need to lie on the bed.” He motioned for me to move, though his focus remained on the paperwork. “And wait a while.”

My brow rose. Grateful to shift position, I clambered on top.

“Stretch out.” He strode toward me, arms folding across his chest as I complied, although the bloody rope didn’t leave me much freedom. “Good.”

“Why do I need to do this, Sir?” Suddenly, I was vulnerable, conscious of how naked I was. It was absurd after everything I had been through, but I wanted to shield myself from his lingering gaze.

“It gives us the best chance of conception.” He shook his head as he replied, sitting on the bed beside me. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“If you don’t agree, then why do this, Sir?” My heart pounded in recognition of how dangerous a question it was, but I had to know. Why use me if he was unconvinced of the motive?

Lifting his chin, his gaze slid to me. “Tell me you didn’t just ask that.”

“I…” My heart hammered so loudly, I could barely hear myself over the top of its incessant rhythm. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“You’re just a whore who’s here to get knocked up.” He leaned closer, glaring at my impertinence. “Don’t forget it.”

I recoiled from his vicious tone, wanting to curl up into a ball but afraid to move without permission.

“No, Sir.”

Turning from his cruel stare, I rolled to one side, fighting to hold back the torrent of emotion threatening to drown me. How could I have been so fucking stupid? I thought I’d seen a flicker of humanity in his eyes-a glimmer of something more than just sadism-but evidently, I’d only seen what I’d needed to see to get through the obvious. Dylan was no better than any of them, and now it was done. He’d fucked me, and for all I knew, it could have been enough-his sperm could be fertilizing inside me. I wouldn’t need to wait long to find out. Technology had been expedited by the machine, and the modern tests could detect the human chorionic gonadotropin hormone only hours after conception. There need never be a delay determining pregnancy again-a huge benefit to those who intended to farm women. I heaved in a shaky breath, wrapping my arms around myself.

“I was going to leave you here until we can test, but after that outburst, I think I’ll shove you back in the cage.” He rose from the bed, pulling on his shirt as I spun to face him.

“No, Sir, please!” However awful this was, the last thing I wanted was to be cast back inside the metal box at the mercy of the brutes frequenting the place. “I’m sorry I offended you.”

“Need that gag to go back in?” His brow rose as he fastened his shirt buttons. “Perhaps that’s how I need to keep you while we wait?”

I tensed, sensing it was a test. Neither scenario sounded fun, but if I had to endure the awful ball again, I would rather do it here with him than cast into the crate in solitude.

“Yes, Sir.” I couldn’t believe I was saying it. My gaze lowered as I caught the first tear with the heel of my hand.

“I’m glad we agree.” Smiling, he collected the gag from the carpet and looked it over as he neared. “You’ll wear it while we wait, then if you prove to be useful, I’ll get you something to eat.” Flexing the straps in front of my face, his eyebrow arched. “Come here.”

Miserably, I crawled the short distance to where the gag waited.

“Open.”

Shuddering, I already knew there was no hope. The only way to avoid finding myself caged, or worse, was to submit to this ordeal again.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.