Wrath growls in satisfaction, but even in the height of it, he offers no sympathy, no time to come down and no space to breathe.He simply spits directly on my pulsing hole, rolls two fingers in a mix of his saliva and my come before shoving them, deep and savagely, into my ass.
I cry out, the burn immediate, but he ignores the warning signs of my distress, plunging them in and out like I’ve had my ass fucked a thousand times already.
At this point I’m just a body he’s playing with. A dead body possibly in his mind. Because the way he’s treating me like I’m made for this, or like I’m gonna be made for this, is almost heartless.
Yet, it does something to my messed up mind, something untamed and I don’t think for a second to scream no. I want his destruction. I want it to hurt, and I want him to take every last piece of me.
After some time of completely demolishing my asshole, making it a little looser and wetter with spit, he drags his fingers out of me.
I can barely breathe when I hear something dragging across the floor, a low, grinding sound that scrapes against my nerves. When I force my eyes open, I see it: a thick chain, impossibly heavy, barely able to bend as it’s pulled across the wet ground. Each link is black and long, pressed so tightly together they move as one solid line.
Wrath lifts it, settling it over his shoulder, grabbing the end and that’s when I feel the coldness of it against my asshole. My eyes nearly pop out of my skull as soon as he begins pushing it inside me, forcing my walls open into an impossible stretch.
“Shit!” I scream, voice cracking as my body bucks, straining under the pressure. It’s too much metal forcing its way inside me, and Wrath doesn’t hesitate. He’s merciless, pressing in deeper, like he’s challenging how far my asshole can stretch before it breaks completely.
The chain grinds against me, slick with whatever wetness coats the ground or me. My muscles burn as they struggle, as they try and fail to hold back.
His fingers clamp down on my inner thigh, digging in hard enough to bruise, wrenching my leg wider open, silently ordering me to take it. And I realize there’s no escape, only the brutal weight of the chain and the overwhelming fullness of it.
I try to breath and relax, and when my traitorous asshole clenches around the first link, it holds onto it, nice and snug, like it’swelcomingthe depravity.
I start to think he’s done, but I’m wrong. Of course I’m wrong. He drives downward again, shoving another in, stretching me to the edge of pain and pleasure. Each link is a violation, thick and cold, forcing me wider, deeper, like he’s trying to hollow me out.
By the time the third link is buried inside me, hitting some invisible limit, I’m shaking, sweating, barely coherent and stuffed so fucking full it feels like I might die.
Wrath growls, low and pleased, his grip on my thigh easing just enough to let his fingers stroke across my scarred skin, like he’s praising me without a word.
I try to push the thoughts from my head, to block out whatever images are playing behind his red eyes, but I can feel it, helikeswhat he sees. Hereally fucking likesit.
His face dips lower and his pierced tongue flicks out, hot, wet, obscene, as he drags it around the chain, around my stretched, aching asshole. The touch makes me jolt andflutteraround the cold iron still buried deep inside me. It’s filthy, soothing and disgusting.
And I hate the way my body responds to it, the way it holds, the way it trembles, the way Ineedfucking more.
Wrath delivers a sharp spit to the area before wrapping his hand tightly around the link closest to my hole, slowly beginning to ease it out again. A gasp escapes me as it drags against my walls, but when two links are out, he plunges them back in with a hard thrust.
For what feels like an eternity, he uses the chain as his own twisted tool, violating my body in such a way that I’m forced into multiple orgasms under his savage control. He makes me scream louder and louder, each one pushing him further to losing his sanity.
He drills and buries it so deep inside me that it feels as though the links are hitting my spine, rendering me immobile, paralyzed until the pain fades and only pleasure exists.
Then, all that’s left is me, is heavy eyes, a wrecked asshole, and a body swaying limply as he continues to violate me.
As soon as my last climax crashes through me, Wrath pulls the links out of my trembling body, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. The chain on my ankle follows, but Wrath catches me before I can collapse, gently setting me down on my knees. I fall forward, face-planting into the ground, my ass naturally rising into the air.
Wrath kneels behind me, splitting my cheeks wide apart, inspecting the damage of my pulsing hole before he leans forward, taking a lick at the gaping hole, not giving a shit.
Gasps and moans escape me, no longer holding back or feeling embarrassed while he cleans up the mess he’s made, trying to relieve the wreck he’s left behind after completely destroying me.
Then, when he pulls back, I feel something else press against me again—something different. It seems to have flat surfaces, and it’s smaller.
As he slips it inside me, I shriek from the lingering pain of the chain, but he simply reaches over, buries his fist in my hair, and yanks me up on my knees.
My back collides with his front, and his hand wraps around my throat, twisting the object further inside and that’s when I think I realize what it is.
His gun. He gonna punish me with the gun I shot him with.
I side-eye him as he lowers his hand and pulls something from his sweats. It glints in the light as he brings it forward and I notice it’s one of those black ace cards he threw into that guy’s skull earlier today.
He presses it against my thigh, then swiftly slices it across without hesitation. I hiss, eyes shutting as my head drops back onto his shoulder. As the sting settles in and I feel the trickle of blood down my skin, Wrath’s fingers press into my other thigh and I glance down, heart hammering.