Violent Cravings: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by Linnea May

  The way she looks at me, trying so hard to please me with her walking, is exhilarating, even more so than admiring the curves of her luscious body. She's wearing nothing but stockings and the garter belt that keeps them in place, her pussy bare and dripping wet. The binds have cut marks on her knees and wrists. I wasn't planning to take those cuffs off before it was time for her to leave the house, but then again, there are a lot of things that I didn't plan to do with her.

  "You're doing very good, doll," I praise her, reveling in the cute smile she casts in my in my direction. "Now get down on your knees for me, on all fours."

  She doesn't hesitate, lowering herself to the floor in apparent eagerness. It's obvious she's grateful for no longer having to parade in front of me wearing those heels.

  "Show me that ass while you crawl over to the bed, doll," I tell her. And again, she doesn't pause before playing along, turning the perfectly round shape of her ass toward me as she slowly crawls over to the bed. The plug is still spreading her, causing her entire body to vibrate with its motions. Her ass cheeks show faint marks of my earlier punishment, but not as much as I'm sure she thinks they do.

  She hesitates when she reaches the bed, casting a look at me over her shoulder.

  "Get on the bed," I say, nodding toward the sheets.

  "Yes, master," she breathes, before obeying my order. I can tell she's trying to look pretty for me as she climbs onto the bed, but my cute little doll has yet to get used to those heels. She loses her balance when she tries to push herself up, supporting herself on her feet, and stumbles to the side, looking anything but elegant.

  Nevertheless, I find the sight sexy. She's trying. She wants me to enjoy her - what more could I ask for?

  I get rid of my pants and approach her with wide steps, determination running through each one of them. Her eyes are wide with anticipation when she looks back at me, still presenting the full view of her plugged ass and her glistening center to me.

  I reach for her ankles, pulling on them to force her down on her stomach, before I turn her around, spreading her long legs in front of me. I can't wait any longer, I need to be inside her.

  "You're so fucking beautiful, doll," I tell her, my voice gruff, as I tease her wet entrance with the tip of my rock-hard cock.

  She casts a worried look at my dick, obviously intimidated at its size.

  "I bet you didn't imagine your first one would be this big," I say, leaning forward, supporting myself by placing my hands on each side of her flushed face.

  She's heaving beneath me, so dizzy with desire that I fear she'll explode all over as soon as I begin stretching her virgin pussy. Her nipples are hard, begging to be sucked. I follow their calling, lowering myself over her ample breasts to take her left nipple between my lips. She groans, arching back under me and bringing her wet cunt dangerously close to my steely length. I suck and bite on her nipple, taking it between my teeth while stroking the tip of it with my tongue. She's close to losing it, too close.

  I retreat, lifting myself enough to see her face.

  "Touch it," I order. "Touch my cock and guide it inside your tight little virgin pussy, doll."

  She whimpers with lust and reaches down to my crotch, her slim fingers closing around my member, now hard as iron. She strokes it gently before guiding it forward, spreading her lips with it as she welcomes me inside her virgin hole.

  "That's a good girl," I add another praise for her. "Very good girl."

  She jerks back, letting go of my cock as I slowly but steadily shove myself inside her, evoking a hearty groan as her tight walls close in around me.

  Chapter 23

  Laura

  He's so big that I'm overcome with a flutter of fear at the thought of having him inside me, even though I know I want it to happen. But as soon as he places the tip of his imposing length and girth at my entrance, I push the fear aside, leaving only need and hunger for him to fill me.

  The slight pain I feel when he tears me apart is overpowered by pleasure, and I'm so agitated at this point that I'm afraid I might come right away. I don't want to come just yet, not only because I haven't been given permission, but because I love the way I'm feeling right now, that cloudy high of bliss conquering my entire being, body and soul. There's nothing but sheer, unadulterated ecstasy, a pure sensation of joy that makes me feel as if I'm floating.

  A sharp pinch calls me back to reality for a split second, and I open my eyes to find him hovering above me. His pelvis is pressed against my core, his entire length stretching me as I accomodate him, our gazes meeting in dazed smiles.

  "You're so fucking beautiful, doll," he whispers, leaning closer until his lips meet mine, claiming a sensuous kiss. He rotates his hips, stirring my insides. I moan between our kiss, biting his lip and joining his circular motions with my hips.

  "You said you wouldn't be gentle," I breathe, my eyes latching onto his. "Fuck me, master. Fuck me until I forget my own name, like you promised."

  His blue eyes flicker with promise. "As you wish, doll."

  He straightens up, displaying that marvelous chest before my eyes, canyons of muscles flexing, as he grabs me by the hips. My hands crawl into the silk sheets beneath us when he starts fucking me like a wild animal, ramming his monster in and out of me with vicious force. I arch my back, changing the angle of my hips so that his cock jams against that sweet spot inside.

  His thrusts are relentless and deep, his balls smacking against my entrance with every push. He starts groaning and sweating, looking so damn sexy that I once again doubt this is really happening. His eyes never leave mine, alternating between fixating on mine and wandering over my body while he takes me. There's nothing but desire and lust in his gaze. He wants me, he needs me, and he takes everything he wants from me.

  I don't have the clarity or will to analyze what these thoughts do to me; all I know is they increase my arousal, sending the first harbingers of my climax raging through my core.

  "Master," I breathe out between my frantic gasps. "May I come?"

  Relief spreads through me when he nods. "Yes, doll. Come on my cock. Now!"

  His demanding words send me over the edge. I'm not even ashamed of the hearty groan that escapes my lips when my orgasm finally rolls over me. My muscles clench around him as waves of pleasure sweep over me with such force that I almost feel like I'm choking. My eyes roll back into my head, accompanied by moans so loud that I'm deaf to everything but my own pleasure.

  He doesn't slow down, but continues slamming into me until I can feel him tensing up inside me as he joins my ecstasy.

  "Fuck!" he exclaims, his hot cum coating my walls. He thrusts into me a few more times, sweat running down his temples as he leans over me, supporting himself on his elbows, his frazzled face closing in on mine. He finds my lips, placing a kiss on them that I'm unable to reciprocate.

  We're both breathing heavily, locked in a close embrace, waiting while our climax slowly subsides. I don't know how much time has passed since he brought me here, and I don't know how much time we spent in intimate silence before I regain enough clarity to remember the circumstances under which all of this is happening.

  He bought me. I'm his property for one night.

  That's it. That’s all it will ever be.

  Whatever I think I'm feeling right now, I shouldn't feel it. I can't.

  I'm only making this harder on myself because there's one thing I can be sure of.

  No matter how I'm feeling right now, he's not feeling the same thing. Whatever he's doing, no matter how good and intimate it feels, he's done it with dozens of other women before me. He doesn't see me as anything more than his temporary fuck doll.

  He made that very clear.

  But it's hard to remind myself of all those things, especially right now when I look into his marvelous blue eyes. A crooked smile is playing at the corners of his mouh as he looks at me, his face still so close that I can feel his erratic breath warm and caressing on my skin. He's still inside me, still ha
rd. Did he not come?

  "How do you feel?" he asks, pulling me away from my thoughts.

  "Good," I reply. Very clever. "Great."

  "You're going to be sore, doll," he says, getting up and withdrawing himself.

  A burning sensation underpins his words as he pulls out of me, making it obvious that he did come inside of me. I can feel the results of his hot release dripping out of me, when he lies down next to me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

  He chuckles at the pained grimace I'm making.

  "I warned you," he says, placing a peck on my temple. "And we're not done yet."

  "I know," I breathe. "I know what I signed up for."

  His eyebrows knit together for a moment. It seems like he doesn't like to be reminded of our arrangement either, but probably for completely different reasons.

  "Don't worry, I'll give you a little break," he says. "As a matter of fact, I may need one, too."

  "You? Why would you need one?" I tease, adding a little smirk to my words.

  He huffs.

  "Doll, fucking you is not for the weak," he says. "But it's a sublime joy. I can't wait to do it again."

  "Me neither," I say in a low voice, once again reminded of the fact that there's a time limit to all of this. And I don't even know how much time we have left. The room is completely shielded against the outside light, so I have no way of knowing if it's still daytime or if the night has already settled in.

  The only indicator of passed time is my stomach. I'm starving and the rumbling is a clear sign of that. It doesn't escape his ears, either.

  "Hungry, are we?" he asks, casting me a smile that I would call loving if I didn't know any better.

  "A little," I admit.

  "A little?" he repeats. "That's bullshit. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure so are you. What do you want to eat?"

  I look at him with bewilderment.

  "I told you, my doll can have anything she wants," he says. "I have so many decisions to make, I want you to make this one."

  "Um," I stutter, dumbfounded.

  I clear my throat, suddenly feeling awkwardly shy next to him. After all we've done together, why is this so hard for me?

  "I don't know," I add. "I mean... what do you have?"

  "Everything," he repeats.

  "Everything? That's not possible-"

  "I can get you anything, doll," he insists. "But I need to know what you want."

  He lifts his hand and gently caresses along my cheek, sending sweet little shivers of excitement through me. Even after all of this, his touch feels electric, stirring me more than it should.

  "However, my patience is limited," he says, his voice laced with familiar warning. "If you don't tell me what you want, I'll be eating alone."

  "What do you want?" I ask, hoping he‘ll take the decision out of my hands.

  But he just shakes his head. "No, doll. That's not how it works."

  Damn. I should have known this would be too easy. But what do you tell a rich person like him when it comes to food? With his status, I'm sure he's used to fancy hors d'oeuvres, lobster, tiny Kobe steaks, or whatever else rich people like him eat. I'm pretty sure I can't enthrall him with my favorite dishes, macaroni and cheese and pizza. I'm so embarrased, and my post-coital brain can’t come up with anything a little more fancy. Oysters? He loves sushi, so he might be into that, but I could gag at the thought of it.

  "Time is running out, doll," he whispers. "And I'm starving. Let me know what we're eating."

  "I-I-I'm really okay with anything you-"

  "This is an order, doll!" he interrupts me. "Do you want to displease me? You know how I feel about disobedience."

  "Pizza!" I blurt out, closing my eyes in shame. "I'd really love to have some pizza."

  His reaction unsettles me. He places another kiss on my lips and squeezes me in his arm, so loving and affectionate that it instantly calms my worries.

  "Perfect," he says, his voice laced with warmth. "I'd love that, too, doll."

  Chapter 24

  Ryan

  There's no proper dining table in the play room. I usually find other ways of feeding my girl, depending on how well she has behaved. Some of them get fed like a pet, forced to eat out of a bowl I place in front of them, or only allowed to take food from my hands. Others behaved well enough that I allowed them to sit on the floor next to me and the food was served on a Japanese floor table that's so low to the ground that one must sit on the floor to eat.

  My doll deserved the latter because she has been a very good girl.

  But this is the first time I find myself sharing a giant delivery pizza with a girl. The last time I did this with any girl is so far in the past, I can hardly remember it. And I’m not meant to remember it, because it's part of a past that I try very hard to forget.

  I can't take my eyes off of her, even though she's stuffing her face with pizza and casting aside any effort to impress me. She was so shy and tense just a few minutes ago that I feared she wouldn't be able to eat, but as soon as the pizza arrived, she seemed to forget her reserved behavior and started to dig in as if she hadn't eaten in days.

  It's an alluring sight to me. More than I'm comfortable with.

  "This is so good!" she exclaims. She‘s still chewing but already is holding up another slice to her face. I allowed her to wear a light silk robe for the time being, even though I hate that it hides her enticing body from my view. The robe hangs loosely around her narrow frame, occasionally moving to the side, revealing her beautiful breasts. I regret not having played with them more earlier. They are meant to be tied and tortured with nipple clamps. I can't wait to see her react to that. I'm sure she'll give me a reason to use them on her soon enough.

  "I'm glad you're enjoying it, doll," I say. "You earned it."

  She smiles at me. "I'm sure you're used to fancier dishes."

  "What makes you think that?"

  She awkwardly shifts on her seat, indicating that speaking the truth makes her uncomfortable.

  "I mean with... who you are," she brings forth. "Don't people like you prefer to dine at five star restaurants?"

  I let out a chuckle, shaking my head.

  "Not at all," I say. "In my opinion, very few things beat a good pizza."

  "You mean except for sushi?" she asks, winking at me.

  "Sushi is a different kind of food. It doesn't serve the same purpose as pizza."

  She nods and takes another bite from the slice in her hands. I love seeing her like this, her hair ruffled, make-up still intact but slightly smeared from our play, and her face glowing like only the face of a freshly fucked and satisfied girl glows.

  She catches me staring at her, and I'm surprised to find myself embarrassed by that, quickly averting my eyes and reaching for another slice of pizza.

  "Is this how it usually goes?" she asks. "I mean... the process when you have a girl here?"

  I can sense pain in her voice. She doesn't like to be one of many, even though she clearly isn't. Everything about her is too special to file her under just another annual playdate, even though I'm paying her just like the others.

  "What do you mean?" I ask to clarify, reluctant to give any answers that might complicate things.

  "You know," she says. "The blindfold, making me walk around like that, and... the other stuff."

  It's so charming how she can't get herself to speak openly about these things. I've never been too fond of filthy-mouthed girls, but have had to endure quite a few disappointments in that regard. Whores aren't exactly classy conversationalists. I love how innocent she is. She doesn't share the aversions I've seen with other girls, while still being anything but naive or stupid. A dangerous mix.

  "Every time is different," I reply. "Every person is different."

  "Mmhmm," she replies, sounding unconvinced. "Some are better than others, I'm sure."

  She lowers her eyes, avoiding eye contact with me. Is she fishing for compliments? Or does comparing herself to the whores before her
make her feel inferior?

  "I like change," I say, circumventing the sensitive subject. "I get bored easily."

  The green of her eyes pierces through me when she suddenly looks up to meet my gaze.

  "Is that why it has to be a different girl each time?"

  I simply nod.

  "But why only once a year?" she presses. "If it's a different girl each time, why not do it more often? Isn’t that enough diversity to keep you satisfied?"

  I huff. "You'd think so."

  She straightens up, her eyes wide with curiosity. If she was a little kitten, I bet I could see her ears pointing up with attention.

  "But it's not?" she probes. "Or did you lie when you said you only do this once a year?"

  "Why would I lie to you?" I frown.

  She shrugs. "To make me feel special?"

  Her words anger me, not because of what she's saying, but because of what it does to me. I hate that she doesn't realize how special she is to me, no matter the circumstances. At the same time, I'm aware that I can't tell her either. She shouldn't know because it would make things a lot harder than they already are. I will have to let go of her tomorrow evening, and just thinking about it makes my stomach turn.

  "Only weak people resort to lying if they want to make an impression on others," I claim.

  "So you really are doing this only one time a year?" she clarifies. "You only have sex once a year?"

  I huff.

  "Look at you talking, Miss never-had-sex-before," I say. "Why is it so hard to believe?"

  A faint blush travels across her cheeks.

  "Yeah, but that's different," she says.

  "How so?"

  She clears her throat, reluctant to reply.

  "Because it's... you," she eventually dares to whisper. "And you're a man and all..."

  "What a presumptuous thing to say, doll," I say, narrowing my eyes.

  She looks alarmed, ready to spit out an apology, but I stop her before she does.

  "Don't worry, you're not getting punished," I tell her, lifting my hand in a reassuring manner. "Just trust me when I say that I want it this way. I need it to be this way."