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“Sienna.” Cristian’s hands went to my chin, moving it so my gaze was no longer on the uniform taunting me from the bed.

I stared into his endless eyes.

“You will obey me,” he murmured.

My body shook, and my toes pressed against the soft fabric of the rug beneath my feet.

“Take off your clothes and put the uniform on,” he ordered, his voice resembling the tone he’d used earlier today. When he was chopping a man’s hand off.

This time, I didn’t hesitate, my hands flying to the zipper on my skirt. It fell to the floor, then I quickly worked on my bustier.

Cristian’s eyes were embers, burning through my skin as I did so, my naked shell scorching from his attention.

Shaking, I walked slowly over to the bed, the red uniform vibrant, a stark contrast against the white comforter. It was exactly like my high school cheerleading uniform. Down to the white trim and the roaring lion, our school mascot. What a sick coincidence, considering the twin lions at the entrance to this place. My vision blurred as I ran my hands along the fabric, the past and the future merging into one.

I worked on autopilot, slipping the uniform on. It fit me perfectly. Like it was made for me.

Because it was.

Cristian had it made for me.

That was some next level fucking depravity.

Once the uniform was on, I turned to face Cristian, who hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. His eyes roved over me, and I felt like a mix between the girl I was then and the woman I was now.

He was a man. A real fucking man. And I ached for his touch. For him to teach me whatever lesson this was. Even if I hated him for it. Especially if I hated him for it.

“Get on all fours,” he commanded, his throaty voice splintering the silence.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My body was thrumming, unable to handle the weight of the clothes on my skin, unable to say no.

The rug was soft against my knees.

Cristian circled me, eyes running all over my body but never touching me. He didn’t need to, he was working every cell in my body, and he knew it. He knew what this would do to me, that it would excite me and sicken me at the same time.

Finally, he positioned himself behind me. I could feel the warmth of his body, but he still hadn’t touched me.

The skirt of the uniform was short, barely there, and I wasn’t wearing any panties. My ass and pussy were bared to him, everything was bared to him. I’d never felt more vulnerable in my entire life.

“How did it start?” he asked from behind me. His hand ran over my ass, barely there, not going anywhere that I needed him to. His fingers gripped my hips, and suddenly I wasn’t on all fours anymore. No, I was on my back, my skirt pushed up to my waist, my pussy bared to him.

“I remember now,” he murmured, spreading my legs so I was exposed to him. His eyes roved over my pussy, staring with an intensity that should’ve made me uncomfortable. This whole situation should’ve made me uncomfortable. But I was near mad with need.

“Your cunt is fucking beautiful, Sienna.” His eyes flickered up to me. “No real man has ever eaten it like they should, have they?”

I shook my head slowly, unable to speak.

“Well, I’m going to change that,” he said.

Then he pounced. His mouth landed directly on my clit, and I cried out, spreading my hands, looking for something to hold onto, my nails sinking into the fabric of the rug.

His tongue moved expertly, running along my pussy, devouring me. His hands were on the insides of my thighs, gripping so hard he was going to leave bruises. I wished he would leave fucking scars.

I exploded into a million tiny pieces as my orgasm washed over me, Cristian still working. My world disappeared for a handful of seconds, enough time for Cristian to lay his lips on mine.

I tasted me on him. Loved it.

He hovered above me until I found purchase on reality once more.

Cristian was carved from marble, his eyes glowing, his face etched in hunger.

“On all fours,” he rasped.

My limbs were jelly, but I managed to do as he ordered, my body barely able to support me. Cristian didn’t give me time to recover, no, he plunged right into me.

I cried out once more, then he grasped a handful of my hair, pulling on it while he slammed into me. My body met his violence with a ravenous yearning, already desperate for yet another release. Desperate for Cristian to fill me up with his cum.

“You’re going to take me like a good girl, aren’t you?” He slowed until he was seated inside me, not moving. It was fucking torture. Without the motion, I was forced into reality, back into the past, into the deepest parts of myself that I’d been hiding from.


Tags: Anne Malcom Erotic