The vibrator stopped. The sudden silence left my body twitching, straining for what he had so cruelly stolen away. My chest rose and fell in shallow, desperate gasps, the blindfold pressing against my eyes, heightening the darkness that matched my hunger.
"Please..." My voice cracked, thin and broken. "Please, master... I can’t take it."
A low growl rumbled from him, vibrating through the air and straight into my bones. "Can’t take it, or can’t live without it?" His fingers gripped my chin, forcing my trembling lips upward. "Which is it, Olivia?"
"I... I need you," I whispered, shame burning hot across my skin. "I need your cock. Please."
His hand gripped my chin, forcing my face upward again. His voice cut through the dark like steel.
The word hit harder than a slap. My lips parted, a broken sob escaping. I jerked against my restraints, desperate, ruined. "Please... please don’t say that. I need you. I need you inside me, master—please, I’ll do anything."
A cruel chuckle rumbled from him, vibrating straight through me. "Now you remember how to beg."
"I’m begging," I cried, my voice raw, trembling. "Don’t leave me . I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t leave me empty."
He didn’t say a word; rather, he released my cuffed wrist, which was still bound, and held my hand as he led me to another corner of the room.
My stomach brushed something hard, and I flinched. A desk? A table? I couldn’t see, couldn’t know, but his hands were suddenly on my waist as he pressed me down, spreading me, forcing me open as I arched my back.
The sound of fabric tearing filled the room, followed by the heavy thud of his belt dropping to the ground. My breath caught—every nerve alive, waiting. I heard the soft rasp of a zipper, the whisper of clothing shifting. My wolf whimpered inside me, clawing at the edges of my chest.
He stepped between my thighs, his presence so close, so solid, my body bowed forward instinctively, aching to feel him. My legs quivered as he nudged them wider, his thumbs pressing into my thighs until I was bared, helpless, ready.
His breath ghosted over my ear as he leaned down, his voice dark velvet. "I can smell your arousal, dear mate."
I swallowed hard, my lips trembling. "Yes," I breathed. "Please, master. I’ll do anything—just don’t leave me empty."
A rough chuckle left his lips. His body pressed closer, heat radiating against my trembling core.
The blunt head of his cock brushed against my entrance—just enough to make me gasp, to make my whole body jerk forward like it was begging on its own. My walls clenched around nothing, desperate, aching, as I arched my back, trying to take him in.
A broken cry left my throat. "No—please—don’t tease me," I begged, my voice cracked and hoarse. "Just fuck me, master, I need it, I can’t—"
He only pressed the tip against me again, slow and deliberate, rolling it over my slick folds, smearing me with my own wetness. My legs shook, my hips pushed back, but every time I tried to take him, he pulled away, leaving me hollow, tortured.
"Greedy little mate," he muttered against my ear, his tone rough, cutting, but laced with heat that made me burn.
"Please," I sobbed, shameless now. "I’m begging—fill me, master. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything—just fuck me."
Instead of giving in, his palm came down hard against my ass. The sharp sting made me cry out, my body jerking against the desk. The sound echoed in the room, mixing with the ragged edge of my breath. My pussy clenched tighter, dripping, needy, begging for him in ways words never could.
Then—finally—he pressed forward. The head pushed past my entrance, stretching me, burning, filling the emptiness I had been drowning in. My mouth fell open in a broken moan as my body opened for him, wet and eager, welcoming every inch as he slid in.
"Master—oh god—" My voice broke as my walls clamped down around him, relief and desperation flooding through me.
He didn’t let me breathe. With my hair wound tight in his grip and my body bent over the desk, he pulled back and slammed into me, hard and slow. The force shattered my cry into a gasp, my nails clawing uselessly at the wood beneath me.
"Fuck, love." He moaned out, and then he began to fuck me.
A sudden crack of his palm against my ass jolted a cry from my lips, the sting burning hot, sharp enough to make my core clench tighter around him. He growled low, the sound vibrating through me as though he took pleasure in my reaction.
"So fucking wet, Oli." He moaned, fucking me harder, his grip on my head tightening. He yanked my head back until my throat arched. I gasped, helpless beneath his pull, my world narrowing to the heat of his body and the merciless grip that reminded me I was his.
Then his other hand roamed forward, seizing my breast, his thumb brushing across my nipple until it ached, pinching just enough to make my back arch off the desk. The small torment blended with the relentless stretch inside me, and my broken moans filled the air.
"Fuck, this feels good," he murmured darkly against my ear, his voice a velvet blade. "Every part of you begging, every sound you make mine."
My walls clenched greedily around him, my body betraying me, pulling him deeper with every savage thrust.
My wolf whimpered, clawing to submit, to surrender to him fully.
His thumb drifted lower, sliding across my stomach before pressing against the slick heat between my thighs. The rough stroke against my clit sent shockwaves through me, forcing my hips to jerk, my body unable to resist. I was trapped—pinned, claimed, unraveling under his every move—yet my soul craved more, begged for him to never stop.