Chapter 551: Chapter-551
[Please read it with your own cautions for this Chapter bears scenes of rape and torture that may shake the heart of some readers]
He leaned over her back, mouth against her ear, still slamming into her with that same relentless rhythm. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room—skin against skin, blood and slick, her broken moans and groans spilling out with every thrust.
"Cry for me," he whispered. "Moan for me. Scream if you want. No one is coming. You are mine. Only mine. And I will take what I want until there is nothing left."
Her body shook violently beneath him. Tears soaked the floor. Her fingers clawed at the sheets until her nails broke. Every deep thrust dragged a fresh, throaty groan from her, every twist of her nipple made her cry out in a high, broken moan she couldn’t hold back.
"Ahh—! Nngh—please—too deep—ahh!"
He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in with a wet, brutal sound that punched another loud groan out of her. Blood and slick mixed on her thighs, dripping down. She tried to crawl forward; his hands clamped on her hips like iron and dragged her back onto him, forcing her to take every inch again. And again. And again.
"You still can’t take me," he said, almost laughing, voice rough with lust. "After all these years... still so tight. Still so broken. That’s why I love this body. Listen to those pretty little moans."
He reached around and slapped her breast hard enough to leave a deep red print, then twisted the nipple again until she screamed—then moaned, long and shaky, as the pain mixed with something darker. His other hand fisted in her hair and yanked her head back so he could see the tears streaming down her face, the open-mouthed gasps, the broken sounds she couldn’t stop making.
"Look at me," he ordered. "Look at the man who owns you. Moan louder."
She forced her eyes open. The same smile was there—the one he had worn when he first beaten her, the one he had worn when he ended the child inside her. Cold. Satisfied. Absolute.
He thrust harder, faster, chasing his own pleasure now, using her body like a toy that existed only for this. Each impact punched a raw, throaty groan out of her.
"Ahh—! Hnnh—ahh—fuck—please—!"
When he finally came, he buried himself to the hilt and held her there, pulsing deep inside her while she sobbed and moaned helplessly beneath him, body trembling, voice cracked and wet.
Even after he finished, he stayed inside her for a long time, one hand still casually rolling her sore, swollen nipple between his fingers, drawing soft, broken little moans and whimpers from her with every twist. He listened to every sound like it was music.
Only when he was ready did he pull free. She collapsed onto the sheets, shaking hard, blood and seed leaking from her, soft broken groans still spilling from her lips with every breath. He looked down at her with that same quiet, smile which doesnot look too satisfied.
She lay there shaking, thinking it was finally over—blood and seed leaking from her, soft broken whimpers still slipping from her lips with every breath. Her body was limp, raw, used.
Then he stood up.
Before she could even lift her head, his hand fisted in her hair and yanked hard. A sharp, startled scream tore from her throat as he dragged her across the floor. Her knees scraped, her body sliding helplessly behind him. He didn’t slow down. He didn’t speak. He simply hauled her up and shoved her onto the cushioned bed she had been sitting on earlier—the same soft surface where the "play" had begun.
She landed hard on her back, legs splaying open. Tears streaked her face.
"No—wait—please—"
He was already on her again.
This time there was no slow push. He forced her thighs wide with his knees, lined himself up, and slammed into her in one brutal thrust. The force drove a raw, guttural scream out of her that cracked into a long, broken moan.
"AHH—! Nngh—too much—please—!"
He didn’t give her a second to adjust. He started fucking her harder than before—deeper, faster, more vicious. Each thrust slammed her body into the cushions, the wet, filthy sound of him driving into her already-swollen, blood-slicked cunt filling the room. His hands pinned her wrists above her head, then one shifted down to twist her nipple so hard she arched and cried out.
"Ahh—! Hnnh—stop—it hurts—ahh!"
He leaned over her, face close, that same cold smile back on his lips as he pounded into her without mercy.
"You thought we were finished?" he growled against her ear. "We’re just getting started. Scream for me. Moan for me. I want to hear every broken little sound."
She tried to twist away. He only fucked her harder. His hips snapped forward with brutal force, the thick length of him stretching her open again and again until fresh tears streamed down her temples. Every deep, punishing thrust dragged a helpless, throaty groan from her chest—sometimes a high, desperate moan when he hit particularly deep, sometimes a choked sob when he twisted her nipple or bit down on the soft skin of her shoulder.
"Nngh—ahh—please—too deep—I can’t—ahh!"
He released one of her wrists only long enough to slap her breast hard, then grab it and squeeze until her moan turned into a raw scream. He kept slamming into her, relentless, the bed creaking under the force. Her legs were forced wider, her body bouncing with every brutal impact. Blood and slick made wet, filthy sounds with every stroke.
"Listen to you," he rasped, voice thick with dark pleasure. "Still so tight. Still crying so pretty. Still moaning for me even while you beg."
He shifted, hooked his arms under her knees, and folded her almost in half, driving even deeper. The new angle punched a long, broken, almost continuous moan out of her—half pain, half something she hated. Her voice cracked as she sobbed and groaned through every thrust.
"AHH—! Hnnh—ahh—fuck—please—no more—!"
He didn’t stop. He only went harder. Faster. More brutal than before. Her body was no longer her own—just a trembling, moaning, weeping toy being used. Every time she thought she couldn’t take another thrust, he gave her three more. Every time her moans turned into pure screams, he twisted her nipple or bit her throat and forced another broken sound from her lips.
When he finally came again, he buried himself to the root and held her there, pulsing deep inside while she sobbed and moaned helplessly beneath him, voice wrecked, body shaking violently.
Even then he didn’t pull out right away. He stayed buried in her, grinding slow and deep, drawing soft, broken little groans and whimpers from her with every small movement, listening to them like they were the sweetest music.
Only when he was ready did he ease back. She collapsed against the cushions, completely spent, legs still spread, blood and seed leaking freely from her, soft ruined moans still slipping out with every shaky breath.
She lay collapsed on the cushions, body trembling, legs still forced open, soft ruined moans slipping from her lips with every shaky breath. Blood and seed leaked from her in slow, sticky trails. Her throat was raw. Her nipples were swollen and dark from how hard he had twisted them. She thought—hoped—he was finally finished.
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