Seven+Four (Angels of Wrath Book 6)

When I wake up, it’s still dark outside. Did I pass out? I’m in Uri’s lake house, in his bedroom. I feel deliciously sore and very well used. And covered in cum. There’s a musky, sweaty smell in the air mixed with Uri’s.

Has he been fucking me all this time? The thought of him doing debauched things to me while I was asleep makes me shiver with desire and annoyance. I want to remember all the pain and pleasure he gives me, but at the same time, being used when in a vulnerable position like that makes me feel all tingly. It’s insane what I’ve become and how compatible we are.

The bathroom door opens, and when I blink, Uri is at the foot of the bed.

“Baby Blue,” he says, his voice dropping, snaring all my focus. His gaze is so intense, I can’t take my eyes off it. His attention always feels intoxicating, like I’m the only other person in the room—which I am right now. I wet my lips, my helpless heart hammering in my chest.

Without moving his eyes from my face, he lies on the bed right on top of me—holding his weight on his elbows. Is he gauging my reaction? Like I’d ever say no to him.

His mouth lowers to my neck, and he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses down to my shoulder, where he sucks a mark into my skin. The twinge caused by the suction makes pre-cum form on the tip of my incredibly hard dick.

“I want to sink my teeth into your firm, round, perfect peach of an ass.” Is he asking for my permission? That’s sweet, and so unlike him.

“Cover me in bites. Do whatever you want to me.”

His light brown pools darken as he studies me for a moment. Then he slides down and flips me, doing exactly that. I hiss as he continues to use his teeth on my meaty flesh. He sucks a bruise there too, and another. He makes a trail of them over both my ass cheeks until he stops between them.

“I want to see.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I’m rolled belly up again and my knees and my legs are pushed toward my chest, exposing my hole to him. My hands are moved to replace his and hold my legs up. His head shifts back between my thighs until his lips are an inch from my entrance, warm puffs of air fanning over it. I’m already out of breath, and my pulse is pounding inside my dick.

“Don’t move. Don’t say a word. Don’t come until I say.” His harsh words compel me to obey. I feel all my nerve endings waking up, and at the same time, my body relaxes for him. His calm, threatening dominance has such a physical impact on me. It’s an instinctual response. A submissive one that I suspect only Uri can trigger in me—since I fought like hell against that other dom at the club.

He pulls my cheeks apart and buries his face in my ass, closing his mouth over my hole. I immediately part my legs even further and arch up toward him, offering myself, unable to hold back.

The first flick of his tongue has all thoughts leaving my mind—forever lost. The pleasure is overwhelming. He makes a snarling sound and then lashes at my hole with heavy, fast licks. His hands tightening on my ass cheeks forces them farther apart. I’m drowning in ecstasy.

“The face you’re making is so dirty, Baby Blue.” He smirks before lowering his head down again. His lips move against my soaked pucker, making obscene sounds that turn me on even more. “I’m the only one who will ever fucking see it. And this gaping, thirsty hole.” He smacks it twice, making my hips jerk up from the bed.

Oh dear God! I’m oversensitive, right on the edge. These new sensations are sending shudders through my body. Then he does more and buries his tongue and face in me, waking up all the nerves surrounding my hole.

“Fuck this ass! I can taste my cum in you.” He moans, like he’s enjoying a delicious dish. “You’re melting on my tongue.”

His hand falls down on my right cheek and thigh. I moan all my bliss as he keeps eating me out and smacking my lower body. My thighs and ass burn, my insides are all wet and filled up. I’m in heaven.

He strokes my burning skin after every slap, as if trying to soothe it, yet the intensity of the slaps never quells. He comforts me with the same hand he uses to hit me. Pleasure and pain are yet again connected.

I’m burning for him inside and outside, whimpering as he tongue-fucks me deeply.

“My Sari likes to have his asshole played with.”

Yes, I do. I do. I want to say, but I’m breathless, chasing that orgasmic release. So close.

“Your hole sucks my tongue like it’s a cock.” I can feel the smile on his lips just before he goes back to work.

The noises coming from me are obscenely loud. But the pleasure is out of this world, and the contrast between the roughness of his stubble and the velvety quality of his tongue turns up the intensity even more.

I cry out as Uri suddenly lifts my hips and flips us. My hands shoot out over the sheets, even though Uri is holding me up effortlessly. My ass is on his face, right on his mouth.

“Ride my face,” he instructs me, sticking his tongue into my eager hole again.

My hips are already shamelessly gyrating and moving against his talented tongue. I fuck myself on it with wild abandon, one of my hands grabbing his dreads, attempting to get him deeper into me, deeper inside my hole.

I feel like I’m poised on the edge of desperation. I sob as I lose sense of time and space, pain and pleasure. I’m falling apart embarrassingly fast. But it’s Uri. Uri. My Uri.

The climax is brutal when it hits. I come with a muffled cry, writhing against his hungry mouth. I feel a rope of cum hit my chest before Uri takes my dick inside his hot, sucking mouth while his fingers replace his tongue. My brain feels fried. I shudder with bliss. I seem to have forgotten how to breathe; my arms are shaking under my weight.

I hear his lips release my shaft with a pop. And then he rolls me onto my belly and climbs over my body until he sits on my shoulders. His hand wraps around my neck, forcing my face to the side. His hard, long, pierced dick is the only thing I can see. His knees are on both sides of my head, caging me, forcing me down on the bed. He keeps arousing me to a higher level. But how many levels are there?

“I want your spit on my cock when I plunge into your loose hole.” His filthy talk gets me to yet another level.

He slaps his length on my cheek, the sting erupting on my face makes my lips throb as much as my dick. Then he rubs the wet tip over my mouth, painting the plump flesh, lingering on the stinging cut on my lower lip—from when the bastard at the club slapped me. That felt wrong and cringey, not pleasurable at all, I hated every minute of it. While being cock-slapped by Uri’s dick makes me want to offer the other cheek. And he knows it, smirking so smugly as he keeps stroking his pierced head over my face. I stick out my tongue, licking the bead of pre-cum off the tip. It makes him growl like a wild animal, while I feel empowered.

“Open wide and suck hard,” he orders, just before he pushes it in my mouth—in this position with my head turned to the side, he can’t go very deep. I swallow and twist my tongue just like he taught me. I can’t move, and it’s harder to breathe since I’m belly down, pushing on my lungs. That just heightens my pleasure.

“Such a good cock sleeve. Drool for me,” he snarls, mercilessly fucking my face. I would smile if my lips weren’t stretched to the maximum, and tell him to use me as he pleases if my mouth wasn’t stuffed with dick. His hand around my throat is loose, only his thumb is pressing on it right where his cock is driving in and out. His piercing keeps dragging over my tongue, reminding me how good it felt inside my butt.

My sight is turning blurry as my brain is not getting enough oxygen. I’m dizzy now; I feel my eyes are rolling inside my head. Ecstasy hits me hard again as I choke on his dick. Just when I’m about to pass out, he pulls back and dismounts from me.

I find myself in his arms, on my side, my back pressing flush to Uri’s front. Heat radiates from his skin wherever we touch. His body comforting mine. His muscular thigh pressing down on my waist, his forearm around my chest, his fingers playing with my hair.

My mind is still blank as I try to catch my breath. He suddenly spreads the burning flesh of my ass cheeks and thrusts himself inside my sore hole, slamming home. Every inch of me is filled with every inch of him again. Uri is inside me. My only love is in me.

“You’re squeezing me, Christ!” I’m only faintly aware of his words, because the stretch is painful in the most perfect way. His jizz fills me up as he gives a hard thrust, pressing hard and deep, groaning my name. I love this. I will never get enough of him.

“I want to live in your fucking pearly skin. Engrave my name all over your body.” The clear fixation in his voice doesn’t frighten me. Instead it pushes a sigh of happiness out of my mouth. I want him to carve my flesh, to leave a permanent mark on me. Crazy? Maybe, but I don’t care anymore. I just want us to be…us.

He isn’t moving now, but seems content to just be inside me, reaching the deepest part. His leg feels heavy on my hip. My eyes fall to the tattoos on his thigh. The date of my birthday in Roman numerals, the name I gave to his first restaurant, Winnie—the cute pet lizard I kept in my bedroom until it escaped—even the x-ray of my heart which I took for a high-school science project.

I feel tears fill my eyes. I would have told him how I felt if I had seen them. Because these tattoos are like a confession, not of his love but of his everlasting, unchangeable, and undying obsession with me. Why did he hide them from me?

I snuggle closer to him—if that’s even possible—and wrap his arm more tightly around my chest. The movement makes me squeeze around his length, pushing some of his cum out of me.

“No shower. I want to smell my cum on you.” He nips at my ear.

Hearing Uri be so possessive turns me on more than it should. But I really need a shower.

“I do like the smell of you on my body, but I feel sticky,” I admit.

He grunts, squeezing me in his arms a bit too tightly before he lets me go. His dick slips out of me. Ouch, I feel sore. I stand up—with some effort since I ache all over—and head for the bathroom when Uri’s voice stops me mid-step.

“Don’t move.”

I glance back over my shoulder as I hear his order. “What is it?”

He doesn’t reply, and I wait, trying not to wiggle as cum slides out of my ass and runs down my legs.

“Fucking beautiful.” His gaze is trained on my lower back. The twisted, proud smirk that crosses his face makes me blush and shiver at the same time.

“What is?” I’m breathless all of a sudden.

“My cum leaving your hole.” His hand is on his half-hard cock, stroking it while his gaze is fixed on my dripping butt. He’s so handsome and sexy. All those powerful muscles, cool tattoos and dreads, those piercings, and that big shaft. And he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me all over.

Feeling audacious, spurred on by his hungry eyes, I reach down and run my fingers through the wet mess, then glide them up into my ass crack.

He growls, jumps from the bed, and prowls toward me. “You’re too fucking hot.” He pulls me back against his chest and slides his dick between my slick ass cheeks, rubbing against my loosened hole. He feels divine.

“Shower with me?” I ask him.

“Try and stop me.”

After a long, very thorough shower with two more orgasms, he dries up and takes me back to bed. We are lying face to face now. I’m brushing his earrings one after the other, the piercing on his eyebrow, his lip. I think about the barbell on his tongue and further down.

“How many piercings do you have?”

“Fifteen,” he replies with a husky voice.

“No nipples?” I ask, puckering my lips, a metal hoop would have looked hot on his dark bud. I lightly stroke it with my fingers, smiling at how fast it turns rigid.

“It takes too long to recover.” He covers my hand and guides my palm over his chest. “And I want you to touch me all over.”

I lean in so my face is in his neck, feeling like the intimacy of this moment is going to swallow me whole. I take a big inhale of his scent. It makes me hum in pleasure. It’s like a drug that slowly dissolves into my bloodstream, triggering all of the dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins, the happy hormones in my body. I move my nose down to his neck and collarbone; his sigh resounds in the bedroom, and I can feel the hardness of his dick against my leg.

Is this really happening?

“Maybe I should pierce my nipples then,” I hazard. I think Uri’d like that.

“No!” He pulls my head up, his nose against mine. “You will not. Nobody touches your chest but me.” He slaps my nipple and then slides me up the sheets to pull it into his mouth to bite and suck it hard.

Shit! I moan as I let my head drop back. But Uri isn’t having it. He grabs my hair and forces my eyes back to his gorgeous face still torturing my nipple. I can’t come anymore, it’s physically impossible after all the orgasms I’ve had.

“A beautiful shade of red, my new favorite.” He’s staring at my abused chest, and when his hands close on the sensitive skin of my butt, I wince slightly.

“Hurts?” he asks, brushing the flesh lightly. I nod. The burn feels good, but it’s also a bit uncomfortable.

He lets me go to take something from the nightstand. When he faces me again, he’s holding a jar of ointment. He starts to rub it on my chest, it feels refreshing with a minty smell. His hands move to my cheek, neck, collarbone, sides, then he rolls me to apply the cream on my buttocks and inner thighs. He marked me all over, and although it’s mad, I hope he’ll do it every time we have sex.

“The swelling will be gone tomorrow,” he lets me know.

“Did you care for them too after…your sessions?” I ask, feeling suddenly grim.

“Fuck no,” he exclaims straight away, lifting some of the dark mood off my shoulders. “Your pale skin bruises so beautifully easily, I like to see my marks on you, Baby Blue.”

He moves me to my side and spoons me. I feel the head of his cock push against my sore entrance again.

“Relax, it just wants in,” he says before pushing inside me with a swift pump. I sigh contentedly, enjoying the fullness again. The truth is that every kind of feeling from Uri is welcome. And him inside me half-hard, licking the back of my neck, as he thrusts slowly against my ass feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.

“I love you.” The confession flies out of my mouth with ease.

He presses me closer to him, his dick reaches a deeper part of me when his legs lace with mine.

“I don’t love you, Sari. Love is such a tricky, fleeting emotion, I don’t understand why people long for that shit.” His fingers curl around my neck as his mouth moves closer to my ear. “I see you as mine,” he whispers, almost sinfully, “I always have. My body and mind both agree on where you belong: by my side. Permanently. Even if I have to go to the farthest depths of hell to keep you.”

I always dreamed of this day. The guy I love telling me he loves me back. My heart would burst through my mouth, and I’d cry with happiness. Instead a blanket of utter tranquility falls on me as I hear his words. What he said goes further than any fantasy I’ve ever had. He can’t love me since sociopaths are incapable of that, but I know that what he feels for me is the strongest emotion he’ll ever have toward another person.

“That’s all I need,” I say, covering his hand over my neck and intertwining our fingers around my throat.

“What you need right now is to be fucked.”

And he does just that, stopping only when the light starts peeking between the bedroom curtains.

Does the fact that I love to be fucked while sleeping make me a pervert?

Three days later, I leave the bathroom and walk to the bedroom with that thought twirling in my head. Uri and I have being going at it like rabbits. My body aches spectacularly everywhere and my heart feels so full. I’ve never been this happy in my life.

I let the towel fall down on the floor. I’m wearing only a pink silk thong after deciding against a bra. Uri likes to play with my nipples, and they’ve gotten very sensitive. The feel of lingerie rubbing against them is quite arousing, and I don’t want to pop a boner while talking in front of a crowd of students. My lecture is scheduled for this morning at the University of Illinois main campus in Urbana, a town a little outside Chicago and I need to hurry up and get ready.

When I’m done, I walk downstairs and into the kitchen—after quickly checking on Albert E. The sight of Uri sitting at the table makes me lose my breath for a moment. My heart keeps fluttering and settling again and again. Anxiety and comfort tangle inside me.

He’s wearing a pair of black pants and a dark gray, V-neck sweater that looks tight on his fit upper body. No shirt underneath, revealing part of his tattooed collarbone.

He looks me up and down, narrowing his eyes at my pants. They are tight, but the boyfriend cardigan reaches mid-thigh.

“What?”

“Do the buttons,” he demands absurdly.

“They are done.” I look down at the two fastened in the middle. I’m wearing a turtleneck underneath, for hell’s sake.

“All of them.”

I hold his death stare, not afraid in the least. “I’m hungry,” I say when too much time passes in this ridiculous staring contest.

“Sit. I bought your favorite.” He points at the chair near his.

“Croissant with pear and chocolate?” I ask, hopeful.

“From that bakery on Green Bay Road.” He nods, and I smile brightly, forgetting everything else as I move to the table.

When did he buy it? Did he go this morning? The bakery is here in Winnetka, but it must have taken him twenty minutes to go there and come back. His ridiculously high level of dominance is tempered by how thoughtful and attentive he can be.

I sit next to him, but he doesn’t move. He keeps drinking his coffee; his other hand is wrapped around a steaming mug which contains what looks like tea. My tea. I move my hand toward the mug, but he slides it away. I turn my frown to him, confused by his strange behavior. His eyes glance down at my chest—and my half-buttoned cardigan—before moving back to my face.

Is he serious? My mouth turns slack as he keeps sipping his damn drink like his insane actions are perfectly justified.

I want to defy him so badly, but a glance at the kitchen clock tells me I don’t have much time before I have to leave. And I really want my croissant.

I let out an angry growl, to which he snorts. Snorts! The sociopath! I give him the most furious glower I can produce as I start to button up my cardigan. He waits until I finish before placing the tea in front of me and getting the croissant from the kitchen.

He sets the plate on the table and gives my head a kiss. When I huff, he pulls on my braid, tilting my head all the way up to crush his mouth to mine and gorge on my taste. The ardent kiss tastes like coffee. It demolishes my annoyance, consuming all the fighting spirit inside me. My toes curl and my heart climbs into my throat as I let him devour me.

Before going back to his seat, he lands another hard kiss on my puffy lips. He has a smug close-mouthed smile on his perfect face. It makes me realize that I need to up my game against him. I can’t keep yielding so easily.

“Stop looking so smug!” I scold him.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and grasps my thigh, squeezing the muscle like he needs to remind me that I’m his.

“How can I not when I put that dazed expression on your beautiful face?”

And swoon. I’m melting because Uri is not a romantic person, what he states are facts. He really thinks I’m beautiful.

I start eating my croissant, otherwise I’ll jump on him and never get out of this house. I have a lab and Albert E. is here, so I don’t actually need to go outside. Uri’s crazy illusion of keeping me locked up is growing on me. I better hurry and go give my lecture before turning completely mad.

“The driver will be here in fifteen minutes,” I say more to myself than him. “Don’t get that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” he asks.

“That look that says you want to do something illegal to anyone who gets too close to me.” Not that I hate that. I know that something might be wrong with me, but his obsession makes my body tingle. And I can’t tell him that. He would feel even freer to do slightly or totally immoral things in my name.

“Fucking hate this. I’d cancel today, but⁠—”

“It’s a marathon for paraplegic children. You need to go.” I wish I could go with him. I love this side of him. He supports various charities, mostly for kids. We all do, but Uri and Raph are the ones who show their faces and shake hands usually.

He shoves his chair back so abruptly, it screeches across the onyx black tiles.

“Didn’t you have breakfast? Is that why you are so temperamental this morning?” I ask sassily.

“That fucker is going to be there,” he growls.

My brows furrow. “Who?”

“Your colleague. Trent the fucker Dohner,” he snarls.

Ohhhh. I completely forgot about him. “Want some of my croissant? No?” I try to change the subject, which only seems to aggravate his mood more. His glare darkens further. “Stop being unreasonable, I need to go give the lecture, it’s for my job.”

“Unreasonable? You make my ego non-existent.”

“Good,” I state, taking another bite of the croissant from heaven.

“I’ll come pick you up,” he declares with finality, wiping some chocolate from the corner of my mouth before sucking on his finger.

“And be that guy who gets his boyfriend from work and kisses him in front of his colleagues so they know to keep their hands off?”

I see the smile stretching over his face as he mouths the word boyfriend.

I feel my cheeks turning red. That word just slipped out. But he seems quite happy with the title.

“Your boyfriend can’t piss on his territory.” He points at me—I’m his territory. “But that’s one way to get my point across, I suppose.”

Is he fucking serious? “Agh, no!” I say in a disgusted tone as he yanks me by the hand on top of him. I spread my fingers over his wide shoulders as I let him cop a feel of my lower back. He squeezes and then growls in my ear, giving it a sharp bite. Oh, shit. I’ve activated possessive, sociopathic Uriel.

“If I see Trent the fucker trying to touch what’s mine…” Trent the fucker, Rami is going to love the nickname. “I’ll cut his wrists,” he informs me. The threat doesn’t sound as gory as I expected. “And toss him in a piranha tank.” There it is.

I grin, not at the brutal and intimidating warning, but at his jealousy. It isn’t brotherly overprotectiveness. It’s my boyfriend’s possessiveness.

Happy laughter bursts from my chest before I seal my mouth over his. I gently pull the hoop around his lip with my teeth, and when I let go, I see something in his eyes. A dirty, dark, you-are-mine something that makes my dick stand to attention.

“And where are you going to find piranhas?” I mock him.

“I think I like this newfound side of you, feisty and snarky.” He rubs his hard dick against my ass, making me moan and establishing who’s in control again. Like I had any doubt about it.

“I’ll be there at the end of your lecture,” he promises.

“Okay. It’s a good cause, this charity. You’re amazing for doing this.”

“You know I can’t feel empathy for those kids.” He’s licking my neck right under my ear, leaving a very visible mark there—too high to cover with the turtleneck.

I know he mostly does those charity appearances to meet influential people and exploit them, to get something for himself, but also us. He thinks about his family. That’s why I like what he does even more. And that’s enough for me. It’s more than most people do.

“Four bodyguards will be with you at all times.”

Four? “One, Uri. I mean it. Otherwise, they will take the attention away from my lecture. I need people to stay focused.”

“The stalker is still out there.”

He’s right; the memory of those awful packages makes my skin crawl. But the stalker seems to have stopped. Did he get fed up?

“One bodyguard.”

Uri’s hand slides inside the back of my pants, and two fingers brush against my clenching hole. “Four, Baby Blue. This isn’t a negotiation. I need you safe.”

“You’re so controlling.” And so damn sexy.

He hums. “And you love me like crazy.”

I caress his dreads and let my finger rub against the mole on his cheek. “I think we’re both crazy here.”

He sniffs dismissively. “Would you like your boyfriend to show you something?”

I raise my brow at him. “Is that something in your pants?”

“Would love nothing more than to be inside you,” he whispers, licking his lips. “And reach even deeper. But we both need to leave soon.”

He doesn’t care about being punctual; he just wants me to feel the sweet suffering that comes with the wait, and God, I love him and hate him right now.

He lifts a square box from the seat next to him and sets it on the table behind me.

“What is it?” I smile expectantly.

“Raise your clothes over your collarbone.”

I do as he orders, listening to him open the box.

He’s holding…two little pink nipple clamps with a rose gold chain dangling between them. The sight of the two teasing toys in addition to the cold air hitting my bare chest makes me shiver.

“They are equipped with tension adjustments, to control the pleasure and the pain,” he lets me know as he licks his thumb and strokes it over my nipple to turn it hard. As soon as it does he applies the clamp. I hiss at the sudden sharp pinch, and then Uri’s tongue pushes inside my mouth twisting around mine as he rubs my other nipple before attaching the other clamp.

“How’s that?” he asks, as he keeps giving me short, wet kisses.

My nipples sting, the discomfort is manageable and arousing. My chest was a bit tender from last night and the days before that, but the extra tenderness actually intensifies the pleasure.

“Perfect.” Hearing my reply, he curls his lips into a crooked smile. It soon turns twisted and a little scary, so why does my hole clench eagerly around nothing?

His finger flickering against the clamp makes me jerk back.

“Sensitive.” He stares intently at my chest. His tongue comes out, and he plays with the piercing there, twisting it around and biting it. I wince and gasp, imagining him doing it on my nipples.

When his teasing eyes meet mine, I know he’s doing it on purpose. Is it some kind of a punishment? Uri knows by now that I can never resist him. Seriously, sometimes I detest how easily I fold like wet paper whenever he touches me. It’s infuriating considering that he could make me do whatever he wants.

“Now turn around, push your ass out and bend over the table,” he instructs me with a slap on my side…and this is exactly what I’m talking about.

I release the grip on my clothes, letting the fabric cover my torso again—I can’t see the little clamps under it.

“But I thought⁠—”

He cuts me off. “I won’t fuck you.” He slides me to the edge of his knees and helps me turn around.

When I stand up, he unbuttons my jeans and pushes them down without taking them off before giving my back a little tug. I move my chest toward the table surface, pointing my thong-clad butt in Uri’s direction.

He slides a finger over the thong’s edge and pushes the flimsy strip covering my crack to the side.

I see his hand on the box again, grabbing four small balls attached in a series with a flared end.

His lips brush my ear as he starts talking. “They are called anal beads, used to stimulate the nerve endings of your anus through movement.”

I suck in a sharp breath when I feel something cold dripping on my ass. It’s lube. Then a finger spears my hole, followed by another. “Every step you take will make you think of me, even though I won’t be there,” he rumbles as I feel the first ball slip inside me, cold compared to Uri’s fingers.

I moan as he chuckles and pushes another ball in. “You’ll squeeze hard around those beads and imagine my cock.” He inserts the last two balls in one swift push. I arch my back as he rubs his dick roughly against me, jolting those balls inside and making me see stars. He grinds his hips again and then slides a hand under my clothes to pulls on the chain between the clamps. Pleasure and pain blend inside my body, fighting for supremacy, and I’m about to come inside my thong when Uri’s hand squeezes around my dick.

I whimper as he halts my release, and my head falls heavily forward.

“You won’t take them out unless I say so, and you won’t touch yourself.”

“I’m already on the verge now, how can I…?” I can’t finish the sentence, too horrified by the thought of talking in front of a lecture hall with sex toys inside my ass and on my nipples.

“You can and you will,” he scolds me, asserting his dominance. “Spontaneous orgasms are allowed.”My body vibrates over Uri’s words, urging me to moan my submission to him.

I’m still learning, figuring out what my body needs and craves inside the bedroom. Over the last few days spent with Uri, I’ve found out that I like to be ridden hard into submission, I get off on filthy talk, and well-ordered words make my dick leak. A light whipping is not bad, but spanking, biting, and pinching all get me going. I like these out-of-my-comfort-zone experiments.

I’m eager to find out what else I’m into. In the meantime, I need to figure out a way to give my lecture without coming in public.

People keep pouring into the oval-shaped lecture hall where I’ll shortly talk. It makes me feel deeply honored and screwed at the same time. Two of the four bodyguards Uri hired are outside, and the other two are a few feet away, scanning the crowd. I’m actually more at ease knowing they are here. I’m with a couple of other lecturers and Dr. Dench, the assistant dean who keeps talking about the university and how greatly their research department has improved thanks to my company’s donation. I spent two hours going around campus with her and meeting people.

Then I had a coffee with Michael, who unfortunately won’t be able to come—but he asked one of his students to take a video of my lecture…crap. Also Ren texted me he’s stuck in class. Too bad, but I’m kind of glad. I almost blurted out about the toys to Michael out of pure frustration.

“Oh my, we need a bigger lecture hall.” Dr. Dench smiles at me. I’d be more focused on what she’s saying if I wasn’t trying so hard to keep my body in check.

The car ride and then walking around was the sweetest torment I’ve ever experienced. I had to stop four times feigning a light stomach burn, when in reality my nipples and ass overstimulation was the real cause of my odd behavior. I was so tense, every little movement felt like a shock.

Now blazing flames are burning my insides; the pain turns to pleasure then to pain again. My body and mind are both confused since the two sensations have merged into one. I keep sweating, but I can’t take off my coat, afraid everybody will get an eyeful of the hard-on I’m sporting—even though the cardigan is covering it.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been this far out of my comfort zone, so incredibly far that I’m out in the wilderness.Powerless. And even though I’m a little scared, there’s this thrilling sensation in the pit of my stomach. It makes my body tingle with excitement.

I take a sneak peek at the crowd, hoping to see Uri, even though he said he’ll come at the end of the lecture—I might die from sensory overload in the next minute.

A face I already know catches my eyes. The intern who came into my lab a few days ago. What was her name again? Marnie? Miriam? It started with an M, I think. She’s excitedly waving at me from one of the seats, which tells me Raph didn’t fire her—otherwise a glare would be aimed at me. She must be a postdoctoral researcher at this university, or a PhD student. I give her a quick, tense smile before concentrating on Dr. Dench again.

My phone vibrates inside my coat, and I excuse myself to check my messages.

My happiness doesn’t last long as I read his next message.

Dread fills me. I should thank God I’m not in one of those videos—Uri would turn ballistic and kill Trent on the spot. But raunchy videos without his partner’s consent? That sounds odd. We just jerked off and exchanged a tepid kiss.

I’d roll my eyes if I wasn’t still feeling a little disturbed and confused by what Rami found out about Trent.

My phone starts ringing. The One I Belong to is calling. I move further away from the others as I pick up.

“Fuck. The. Code,” he states as soon as I pick up, anger oozing from his voice. “All bets are off when you are involved, and he’s an acceptable donor.”

“Uri, he isn’t even here. I probably won’t even see him.” And he isn’t an acceptable donor.

“But I want the fucker to be there so I can actually turn my blood gushing from all his fucking holes as he screams in agony fantasy into reality.”

“Stop it! The only one screaming today will be me, with frustration. The…toys are killing me,” I whisper-yell, closing my eyes against the feel of my shirt grazing over those damn clamps. God, the constant sensation is almost overpowering. I might pass out.

“Is it the beads inside your ass and the way your hole squeezes around them? Or those clamps pinching tightly and incessantly?”

He’s torturing me with his words as well. When is this torment going to end? And do I really want it to end?

I catch Dr. Dench signaling me. “I gotta go, you asshole!” I snap.

“It’s your asshole we’re talking about.” So facetious! “Remember, I’ll chain you to the bed if you get near that fu⁠—”

I end the call with a scoff. I’m dying here, and he’s talking about chaining me to the bed. He can’t be serious. The problem is that I never know with Uri. Imagining being tied up, though, is more a turn on than I expected. But now is not the time for this.

I make my way to the microphone on the raised platform. I walk slowly, holding my breath as I feel the beads sliding inside me. The tiny shifts give life to sparks of heat spreading all over my body, turning my insides into a blazing inferno. When I finally reach the mic, I feel sweat rolling down my spine, my hairline turns damp, and all I want to do is to strangle Uri. And also ride his big, thick, hard cock—only thinking about that piercing… I clench and it’s agonizing madness all over.

Silence has fallen in the room.

I clear my throat before starting. “I’m Dr. Sariel Bear-Stone. I’m a researcher and co-founder of Bear-Stone Labs. I’m honored to be here with you today…”

For the next thirty minutes, the lecture goes smoothly—being still kind of helps halt the incredible sensations bombarding my body—barely. When I’m done and the applause subsides, I answer some questions—trying not to squirm as I stand in front of around a hundred people.

“Aren’t you working on exploring the use of genomic sequencing for early disease detection?” The third person asks. It’s a guy, and his tone carries a hint of hostility.

I prepare myself. Raph trained me on how to talk to journalists thirsty for a scoop, this seems quite similar to that. “Among other things, yes.”noveldrama

“Your company announced it was a non-profit research project, but doesn’t the fact that it aims to give personalized treatment plans imply patients will need to pay for them?”

“Some might, depending on the disease. Our company, though, won’t be the one taking the money.” Our healthcare system is rigged. Changing it is not impossible, but nearly. All I can do is work hard and try to help as many people as I can.

“But it did in the past,” the student insists. If it did, I’m sure Raph had his reasons—probably to get to a donor. We have enough money as it is. We don’t need more.

“Is this a David-versus-Goliath battle? Or perhaps a personal vendetta?” Uri’s voice booms in the hall, as he slowly descends the stairs, with confidence and arrogance, between the multi-level rows of seating.

“W-what?” the student stutters, starting to look flustered.

He’s here finally, but what is he talking about?

“I’m just asking Mr. Bear-Stone⁠—”

“Dr. Bear-Stone,” Uri corrects him, stopping right next to the student with a murderous look pointed at him. That same glare has made many donors sob in the past—the torture implement he was handling at the time might have also had something to do with it.

“I’m only trying to get to the truth.”

“And the fact that you were fired from Bear-Stone Labs two months ago for attempting to leak confidential information for a very high price has nothing to do with this pretense? Are you even a student at this university?”

Okay, that’s possible since the labs have many employees and I don’t know all of them. But how does Uri know that? He must have used Serena and the CCTV in the lecture hall to use the facial recognition program Rami created or he just called Raph and put his eidetic memory to use.

This whole thing is getting on my nerves now, probably because I’ve reached my tolerance limit. I need to remove those beads now.

“It’s an open lecture,” the guy replies strongly, without denying all the rest. “Who are you? You look familiar. Why are you defending him?”

“Why do you expect an answer?” Uri counters, before leaning toward the student and whispering something low. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I know my boyfriend is threatening him.

Boyfriend. It’s nice to think of him like that.

“Mr. Mahoe,” I call him, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. Still too busy scaring the student to death.

I lift my hand to pull at my braid brushing it against my nipple and the clamp around it. The burn unfurls, spreading to the areola and my whole pec. I barely stifle the moan climbing inside my throat by gritting my teeth hard. I can’t anymore. I suddenly feel a heavy arm wrap around my shoulders, and Uri’s sandalwood scent envelops me.

I look up. He’s staring at me, his eyes moving to my chest and back to my face and down again. He swallows and rakes his teeth over his lower lip, catching the hoop piercing between them. He looks…hungry. Pre-cum drips down my dick as I clench my ass, pushing those beads further inside me. I gasp and Uri tugs me toward the exit as I hear Dr. Dench announcing the end of the lecture. The bodyguards follow us, halting whoever tries to get close.

I feel slightly bad about it, but I really can’t stop to chat with anyone. The cold winter air helps a little, but not much. I’m still on the verge of having an orgasm right here in the middle of the Alumni Walk.

“You did good, Baby Blue. Now it’s time to get your reward,” he whispers darkly, and this time I let the moan free. I really deserve it; I’ve been enduring for the past five hours.

He’s guiding me toward a faculty room, to the temporary office they provided me—a little perk the dean provided me thanks to the donations my company made to the university. We are almost at the door when I hear someone calling my name.

“Sari, darling!”

No!

When I turn, Trent is jogging our way, and I feel Uri pull me closer, tucking me under his arm.

Why now?

I study Trent as he comes closer. His sweet smile has a wicked curve to it, his eyes look open and bright, a bit leery as they travel up and down my body. He seems genuinely happy to see me. I give him a close-mouthed smile.

“Trent,” is all I am capable of saying. Uri is playing with my braid, stroking the end over my burning nipple. Ass!

“I listened to your lecture. Exceptional and erudite as always.” He doesn’t even glance at Uri but keeps his eyes on me.

“Thank you.” My voice sounds high-pitched.

“Your recent study sounds fascinating. I was wondering if you’d like to share a meal together and exchange our thoughts.” Raunchy sex? This guy? I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but really? I’m a clear example of that saying, though.

“He can’t,” Uri replies for me; I feel his breath brushing the top of my head.

Trent’s eyes finally acknowledge him, and he opens his mouth, surely to reply, but stops after glancing at me. “Sari, are you okay? You look a little heated.” He takes a step toward me.

I swallow hard, hoping to get some moisture into my dry mouth.

“We need to go,” Uri interjects again.

“Wait. You are one of Sari’s foster brothers, right?” Trent asks. “We met at Bear-Stone Labs a few months back.”

Uri sniffs. His fingers suddenly push the turtleneck down my throat. “Dibs” he whispers in my ear, before giving the sensitive skin a long, toe-curling lick. A flash of me saying the same thing while licking Uri’s neck in a bar pops into my head.

“Uri,” I utter with a trembling voice.

I can feel his cocky smile against my neck, the easy one that can turn ferocious in a blink of an eye. “You mean Sari’s boyfriend,” he clarifies, staring Trent down. I think lapping at my neck in public screams intimacy enough.

Uri has no problem holding my hand, kissing me, or just generally touching me. I wouldn’t call it affection, more like a claim on me to let everybody know—me included—who I belong to.

Trent doesn’t hide his surprise at the news. A deep frown appears on his face for a moment.

“You’ve been lurking around what’s mine for a while,” Uri feels the need to add. I put a hand on his chest and look up at him, my mouth slightly open in surprise. His intense dark stare is fixed on Trent’s confused face.

“Have I?”

It feels like an alpha pissing contest. I just want to remove those beads and get fucked.

“It ends today,” Uri growls, making me gasp as he squeezes my jeans-clad ass cheek hard in his hand. Then he grabs my wrist and pulls me inside the faculty room—ordering the bodyguards to stay outside and not let anybody in. I give Trent a quick glance; he doesn’t seem happy as he sends me a serious look.

Inside, the room is deserted. My office is the last door on the left. Uri drags me in and locks the door. His hot mouth is on mine in an instant. I moan. He uses that opening to push me flat against the wall and off my feet as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint, lust, and heaven. I lose the ability to think as he wreaks havoc on me. His chest is rubbing against my hurting nipples, making my whole chest go up in flames, while his thumb is pushing against my hole like he’s trying to feel the beads inside me. Pleasure tears through me like wildfire, spreading heat throughout my lower half, while pain keeps blazing in my upper half. Holy. Hell. I whimper against his tongue.

He breaks the kiss and orders me to keep my mouth open as he lets saliva drop from his tongue to mine. “Drink my spit,” he grunts.

When I oblige, all I can taste is this moment. All I can see is the feral desire in his eyes.

“Please,” I beg him, tears filling my eyes. I want to come so badly.

With a smirk, he starts taking off my cardigan—one button, another button—too slowly, grazing my nipples with his knuckles, forcing my body to squirm under him.

His eyes are fixed on me avidly. His cock stirs against my belly and goes from half-roused to hard as a rock within seconds. The cardigan falls on the floor, followed by the turtleneck. God, I’m free. The cold air doesn’t help anymore, my nipples are turning numb.

“You’re stunning.” His voice is hoarse and gravelly. He pulls on the chain dangling between the clamps, and my back arches as tears wet my cheeks.

“How can this feel so amazingly good and overwhelmingly painful at the same time?” I slur. My brain seems to have stopped working.

“I’m sure you’ve thought about the scientific side of it,” he says, putting me down to yank my shoes and socks off. He pops the button of my jeans open and drags them down. “Pain triggers the release of endorphins, the natural pain relievers and euphoria-inducing chemicals. They activate the areas in your brain associated with pleasure and reward.”

Like the limbic and prefrontal regions.

“Also pain can provide a contrast that makes pleasure feel more intense. But you know what I think, Baby Blue?” He pins me against the wall again, with my legs around his waist. “Your pleasure simply derives from the masochistic pain I inflict on you, the suffering. You can still come if we have vanilla sex, but this?” He slaps my hole, jolting the beads inside me and making me see stars from the sting. “You fucking crave it.”

He pulls on the beads, forcing an unintelligible noise out of my lips. He doesn’t take them out, but fucks me with them. Yes, finally. I try to move my hips, but he keeps them still.

“Your underwear is soaked. You’ve been leaking all this time.” He licks the side of my face and bites my ear, sending a jolt down my body. Then he pulls on the chain, making me scream as the clamps tug my stiff nipples once again. I realize that my hands are under his shirt, clawing at him.

“Don’t think about anything else, just feel what I’m doing to you, feel the bliss I’m giving you.”

“Uri,” I cry as he pumps those beads faster.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Yes, say my name. Say it out loud. Say who’s the only guy who’ll ever know how lewd you are.” Another pull on the chain.

“It’s…ahhhh.” Too much and still not enough.

With a hard tug, he yanks all the beads out. A hot flicker of rapt bliss races to every part of me, from the tip of my head to the tips of my toes as my whole body jerks and spasms. My orgasmic sounds fill the room.

“Fuck, Sari. You’re so damn perfect.” He’s whispering, panting into my ear while my body is still feeling the aftershock of the strongest ecstasy I’ve ever experienced.

“Everything is made to be broken. Some more than others. I’ll wreck you and put you together again every single time, my Baby Blue.” He smirks, all satisfied before giving me a hard kiss.

“Put me inside you,” he then demands with a growl on my lips.

“First,” I pause to suck in some air, “take off your shirt. Want to see the tattoos. Want to see our life story inked on your skin again.” The tangible proof of your obsession for me.

Uri slides off his jacket and lets it drop on the floor. The sweater suffers the same fate, displaying his hard-muscled, gleaming, honey-gold torso covered in tattoos. He has ink on that ridged V of muscle just inside his hips. It’s a tattoo of the switchblade I gave him, the one he always carries. How did I not notice how fixated he is with me?

My eyes keep trailing up and down his body. His broad shoulders, those rounded muscles, the straight lines of his hips, the expanse of his hairless chest, the turtle-shell abs, the jut of his hip bones, and the curves of his biceps. Every part of him is tempting my worshipful tongue. I want to kiss and lick and taste all that sinful skin. I feel lightheaded and short of breath only thinking about it.

“I want you with every fiber of my being,” I confess, without an ounce of embarrassment.

His jaw ticks, his eyes turn piercing. He unbuttons his pants, letting his hard dick slap against his abs. His balls look heavy and big, filled with cum for me, the tip of his shaft shiny and red. He lets spit fall on his cock, takes my hips in both hands, lines his dick with my entrance, and thrusts hard and long and deep, taking my breath away. It stings a little. But he easily slides inside and rearranges everything in me to make space for his long, thick cock with that one smooth motion.

“Your body is used to my shape by now. I can go balls deep in one slide.” He grunts. “So fucking loose for me. You’ve got a vacuum hole.”

The slap of skin on skin increases as he rams his dick inside me until I start crying.

“Feed me your salty tears. Fuck!” He licks my cheek. “Even those are mine.”

I nod, clenching on his pumping dick every time he pulls out.

My reaction must excite him because his movements speed up. I am lust-drunk, so close to orgasm again. His cock’s pistoning pace is accentuated by my soft whimpers.

“Squeeze the tip of my dick when I fuck you deep, it feels so damn good.” Uri’s dreads are falling forward, his head bent down so that he can watch his shaft fucking me, his eyes hypnotized by our dirty, sexy connection. He’s so masculine and powerful, and all for me. The way he’s fucking me senseless is driving me insane. He’s really trying to alter my insides to fit him like a glove. And I love every single hard drive of his powerful, pounding hips.

His fingers move to my left nipple. He grips the clamp and pulls it off, making me hiss. My nipple is numb—and looks like it’s grown twice its normal size. His dick grinds inside of me as he bends down and sucks on my red bud. The blood starts flowing again, and I scream as a burning sensation spreads from the aureola, while Uri continues sucking.

“Your pain feels so sweet to me. The sweetest fruit I’ve ever tasted,” he says, moving to the other clamp and removing that one as well. Now one nipple is hot, the other numb. He flicks the latter, and pain rushes down to my cock and explodes out of my slit.

“Yes,” I sob. My face is soaked in my own tears, I can’t stop the tremble in my body, but nothing matters anymore, nothing. The pain makes everything disappear, and then the pleasure hits. My eyes roll back inside my head, and I can’t stop coming.

I’m barely aware of being spun around and bent with my hands and elbows against the wall. He kicks my feet apart and shoves his dick inside me again. Both his hands curl over my chin and mouth, yanking my head back as he takes me like an animal.

“Did you feel how smoothly you welcomed me home?” he pants. Those beads prepped me so well.

“You’re my favorite fuck hole, Baby Blue. Perfectly molded to fit me.” I hear the smugness in his voice as he pulls hard on one abused nipple. My legs tremble for a moment, but Uri doesn’t seem to care.

Pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin, and Uri just keeps flipping it, driving my body and mind insane.

“Show me who owns your body. Your mind. Your fucking soul. Fuck yourself on my dick. Use it as your personal dildo. Yeah, jiggle that ass. Fuck, that’s it.” His hand falls on my butt cheek. The crack ricochets between the office’s walls. The twinge only makes my hips move faster, my eager butt sticking out as I go on my tiptoes.

His fingers continue seducing, branding, and conquering me.

“Damn, you’re tighter than usual. Do you like risky sex? The thrill of being caught?”

“No,” I moan. But maybe there’s a bit of truth in his words. I haven’t been trying to stifle the noises leaving my mouth, and thinking of someone hearing us makes me feel oddly excited.

His hand around my chin tightens, pulling my head further back.

“Fuck that. I’ll be the only one seeing you like this.” His teeth sink into my shoulder before his tongue licks the burn away. “Maybe I should engrave my name on you, so everyone will know who owns you.”

I give him better access to my neck. My dick is hard again when he takes hold of my waist and gives it to me rougher. Holy hell, my forehead falls on the wall, and my moans turn wild.

“Now milk the cum out of my dick. Show me how much you want to be filled up.” He pulls my back against his front; his hands hold onto my biceps. He’s chasing his orgasm with hammering hips. I’m so hard, it’s making my stomach ache, my blood pump faster, and my head spin.

Suddenly his body begins shaking against mine, and he groans; his dick twitches as he finds his own release. I swear I can feel his seed filling me up, hot and abundant. It’s like an orgasm trigger, my balls draw up tight, my hole clenches around him as if it’s trying to suck every last drop of his jizz. He keeps driving into me while white hot ecstasy scorches my insides and radiates all over my body. I jerk with violent spasms, exhausted and drained by the multiple orgasms—and the prior torture. It feels like pure hell and wicked paradise.

I breathe in his scent as time passes sluggishly. He’s still moving inside me, thrusting gently. We are both breathing hard. I dare to crack my eyes open, blinking dazedly. My head is lying on his shoulder. His arms are wrapped around my waist, holding me against him. There’s a soft dripping sound in the room.

His hips still. He turns my face to the side. He grins, ducks down, and presses a swift kiss to my lips, except that I need more and chase his mouth and his pierced tongue. Then Uri nibbles on my lower lip, the feel of his light beard rubbing my jaw makes me moan softly. When we finally break apart, his softening dick has slipped out of me. I feel sore, empty, but so damn satisfied.

Uri lifts my hand and leaves a sweet kiss on it before he cleans my body with some tissues and helps me get dressed. He’s putting on his clothes when I hear it again.

“What’s that sound?” I ask, looking around. Like a leaking faucet, but there’s no sink in the office.

There’s a box I hadn’t noticed before, lying on the desk near my bag. From this angle, I can see a puddle of red forming on the bottom that turns my body instantly rigid. An ominous feeling grows inside my chest. The liquid is rolling down the high desk to the floor, making that dripping sound.

I incline my head to read the name on the box written in bold black letters. It’s my name.

DR. SARIEL BEAR-STONE

The sensation of dread increases. Uri’s fingers lace with mine as he pushes me slightly back. He takes out the switchblade, and without letting go of my hand, cuts the tape on top of the box. Two dead birds are inside. One has a broken neck, the other has its chest covered in blood—the crimson color looks so stark over the yellow, delicate feathers. It’s horrible.

The note inside says, Me and You. Us.

Uri is already talking with Rami on the phone when my coat starts buzzing. I jump, not knowing how much time has passed with me staring at the heartbreaking sight. My afterglow is gone, replaced by horror and fear. I fumble to get my cell out, trying hard to erase that barbaric and vile vision from my mind.

Again? Who is it? Is it the stalker? I suddenly feel eyes on me. I know it’s an irrational thought triggered by fear and helplessness. I’m suddenly out of breath. Where did all the air go? I let go of my phone as my eyes turn unfocused. Am I going to die? Yes, yes I am. My body feels cold and rigid. Now I can’t feel it anymore. The blood stopped flowing in my veins. No. I…

Blurry hazel eyes are suddenly in front of me. Large hands cup my face. Warmth. A voice buzzes in my ears. It becomes abruptly clear the next moment.

“I decide when you go, Sari.” Uri. An immense wave of relief washes over me, wetting my cheeks with tears.

“I own you. You’re mine.”

I nod, or I try to.

“Eyes on me. Stay awake and take my breaths in your lungs.” Mouth to mouth he gives me life again. “Yes, Baby Blue. That’s right, don’t fucking stop.”

When the panic attack abates, Uri wraps me in his jacket and, holding me in his arms bridal style, carries me to the car.

He doesn’t let me go. I’m on his lap, in the safety of his arms. My cheek is lying on his chest. I can hear his heart beating fast…from anger or maybe fear. My trembling hand is fisting his sweater, I’m scared he’ll let me go, unreasonably so. Tears are stuck inside my throat and intermittent shivers keep shaking my body.

“Talk to me,” I whisper brokenly. His deep voice always drags me back when I’m drowning in one of my panic attacks.

Just as I think he didn’t hear me, he asks, “Do you know why I bought our lake house?”

Did he say our?

“Because in spring, Baby Blue Eyes will bloom all around the property, and I want to see you standing in the middle of it all…again. I want you to look at me like you did that day and hear me say you belong to me, knowing this time you’ll understand the real meaning of it.”

I sigh. Every word he utters reaches my soul, latching around it, bonding me to him for eternity.

“That look of desolation on your face appeared in my dream that very night. Fearful, periwinkle eyes above pale cheeks. We were separated, as I ended up in the group home and you at Meg’s house, barely seeing each other.”

“We were in no state to interact with other people,” I say softly.

His chin brushes over my head as he nods. “I’ve always been very rational, it’s an innate trait. A boy showing up in my dreams had no particular meaning. But you weren’t just any boy. You were mine, and you kept visiting my dreams for a month.”

“Is that why you started sneaking inside my room after that?” I ask. He’d walk fifteen minutes from the group home to Meg’s and slide under the broken wooden fence on the east side of the house every night for six months just to watch me fall sleep.

“That was just the tip of my obsession with you. Whoever this stalker is, they are amateurs. They have no idea who they are up against.”