Her eyes dart to the left and right, searching for an escape route. There’s nowhere for her to go. I’ll hunt her down all over the yacht. I’ve got all the time in the world.
“What are you going to do to me?”
I say the words with relish. “I’m going to fuck you in your pretty little ass, and teach you what happens to those who betray me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Bethany
There’s a gleam in Damir’s gunmetal eyes. He’s not angry. In fact, he’s delighted that I tried to escape with Boris, because now he gets to punish me. I should stop fighting him, and deny him the pleasure of overpowering me.
But I can’t.
I back away from him, terrified and stupidly turned on by his words. If he fucks my ass he’s going to hurt me. That’s how it works, doesn’t it? “No, you’re not.”
As if I have a say in the matter when it comes to Damir.
He closes in on me until I’m backed into a corner. Then he grabs my wrists and ties them behind my back with one of his neck ties. I scream and struggle, but it’s useless. No one’s coming to save me. I can’t even save myself, not when his strength out-matches mine. I swear and wrench myself around in his arms, like I tried to do with Boris earlier tonight in the villa. It didn’t work then, and it doesn’t now.
I should never have got back on this yacht with him, and now I’m going to pay the price.
Damir holds the tiny bottle in front of my face, and my panicky eyes are unable to focus on the label. What did he call it? Amyl nitrate. I’ve never even heard of it. Maybe it’s going to paralyze me or something.
“I don’t want to be drugged,” I whimper. Being helpless or unconscious would be worse than being awake. I don’t want to descend into a fog and be unable to fight back; unable to remember every cruel thing he’s going to do to me that will kill my need for him.
Because this has to kill my need for him. Please let it kill my need for him.
Damir clamps a hand over my mouth and holds the bottle up to my nose. I hum like an angry bee and try to turn my face away. Any second I’m going to feel the same cold burn in my nostrils that I felt the day he took me.
I hold my breath for as long as I can, but my lungs burn, and I involuntarily take a breath. Something vaporous and sharp invades my nostrils, but also wholly unfamiliar. A solvent-like odor, but not one that makes me black out. I frown, not understanding what the point of it is.
Until suddenly, I feel euphoric.
My body goes limp in Damir’s arms like I’m a puppet and someone’s cut my strings. I feel languorous and high as a kite, and my face floods with pleasant heat. Damir’s arranging my body and moving my clothes, but I’m in a floating pink bubble and I can’t focus on anything that’s happening to me apart from the pleasure and relaxation I feel.
The euphoria passes off, and I realize I’m bent face first over the bed, my cheek pressed against the cool sheet. I’m naked from the waist down and there’s a fierce pounding in my pussy. Blood has rushed to my nether regions as well as my face, and I feel an ache so sweet that I moan softly, arching my back. Damir strokes his fingers over my sensitive parts, and I realize I’m so wet that I’m practically dripping.
I can’t push myself up because my arms are tied, and so I peer around for my lover. “What…?” I start to say.
Damir leans over me and his hand clamps over my mouth once more and the bottle is held under my nose. I don’t even remember to try and hold my breath this time. I breathe in deeply, and Damir takes his hand away.
“What the hell is…that?” I end with a slur, the euphoria overtaking me again.
I barely hear his voice through the rapture I’m feeling. “Amyl nitrate dilates your blood vessels and relaxes your muscles. Feels good, doesn’t it?” His finger, slippery from touching my pussy, circles up to my asshole, and then slowly pushes inside. I groan at the intrusion, which is all pleasure and no pain. “To relax you for me, princesa. Aren’t I good to you?”
I don’t kno
w, and right now I don’t care. As his finger pulses into me I feel like a cat on heat. I moan, spreading my feet and arching my back for him. I need more. I need deeper.
He rubs his cock through my slippery folds, and then reaches forward to untie my hands. “Hold your ass open for me.”
I reach back and cup myself with both hands. Just a moment ago I was fighting him with everything I have, but suddenly I don’t care and I’m not afraid. If there’s any pain I’ll welcome that, too. There’s a squirt of something cool and slippery. Then the blunt, silky texture of his flesh pressing firmly against my asshole.
“Pridna puncka,” he murmurs, keeping up the pressure but not moving further. “You need this, don’t you? Punishment means I care, and I do so care for you, my Bethany.”
“Yes, please,” I moan.
“Then just relax.” He presses forward and I open around him, the tight ring of my ass clenching against him in ecstasy. Even the pain feels divine. He’s huge inside me, and I barely have time to catch my breath before he’s pulling out, and then pushing into me again. It feels like he’s claiming my soul as well as my body, making me relinquish the last final piece of my resistance to him.