Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Me, Mary O’Toole, naked on my knees. Only a few days ago a modest virgin who played with herself in the shower. Here, begging a man to be allowed to take his penis into her mouth… pleading with him to fuck her face and let her swallow his semen, or to cover her face with it, or to choose which of her body’s openings to finish his pleasure in.
I had thought that being used by Beaumont and Georgy had answered the shameful needs Sven had uncovered—satisfied those needs, even. Seducing an enemy agent like this turned me on more than I could have imagined, though.
The wrongness of it, the danger, only heightened my arousal. My pussy clenched yet again and I could feel the wet heat gathering inside me, readying me for Marmareus’ thrusting cock though I truly belonged to another man.
A better man… my Herra… the man I love, I told myself desperately.
I raised my eyes to meet Leo Marmareus’ flinty gaze.
“May I please, Leo?” I whispered. “May I… may I have your big, beautiful cock in my little mouth?”
CHAPTER 36
Mary
Deep in my mind, in a place that seemed somehow guarded from the swirling winds of need and fear, the völva in me observed and understood.
As if she… I… that part of me…
As if I had an essential piece of my spirit dwelling in a hollow shielded by the roots of Yggdrasil, some version of me who could see everything I did and everything that happened to me, and discern what it really meant.
That calm, observing Mary realized that Leo Marmareus had easily perceived the falsity of this crude, naive attempt at a slutty persona. I could even see that if he had believed it—if he thought I really was simply afraid for my and Camille’s safety, and I was begging him to use me because I thought he might kill us otherwise—he would have refused to go along with the seduction.
But he knew that I was trying to play him. He believed me, but he didn’t trust me. Leo Marmareus meant to figure out what I was really up to—and he thought he had the advantage, because he had seen through me.
I didn’t know whether I actually had the upper hand, in being able to see that, but I felt that I had at least gotten onto a level playing field. The problem, though—the terrible problem—lay between my thighs, where my shameful need for his dominance, for his jutting cock, threatened to steal all that complex reasoning away.
“Open wide, you little whore,” Marmareus commanded, and I obeyed with a humiliating jerk of my hips, a helpless physical response I instantly wished I had faked instead.
He had his manhood in his left hand. His right hand settled on the back of my head, fingers twining gently in my hair, then abruptly tightening their grip to hold me still as he prepared to thrust himself into my mouth.
“Be ready, girl,” he warned. “Men like me fuck hard.”
Suddenly he had driven his rigid penis deep between my lips. His left hand joined his right, imprisoning my head completely so he could use my mouth exactly as he pleased.
I sobbed with need and shame, opening my throat to take him deeper. Marmareus’ hips snapped forward, driving his cock past my gag reflex. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I fought to relax, to be a good girl for him the way Sven had taught me.
As Marmareus used my mouth ruthlessly, I couldn’t help losing myself in the sheer sensations of the humiliating moment. The observer, in her hollow, followed along, but she offered no opinion. The fullness of my throat, the ache in my jaw, the wet sounds of my submission—it all blended together into a haze of pleasure and degradation.
I became nothing but a vessel for this enemy agent’s lust, and a surge of heat flooded my upper body as I knew myself a little more thoroughly—as this kind of girl… the slutty, submissive kind. The sort of bed thrall into which Sven had shaped me because he had recognized my shameful nature.
I… Mary O’Toole… a little whore who needed fucking by many strong men, many brutal strangers… men who thrust hard, like the one using me now… the gorgeous, powerful man whose rigid manhood I did my best to please here in the lair of my master’s foes.
Marmareus continued to use my mouth as if it were a sex toy he could treat precisely as he wished. His cock seemed to drive deeper into my throat with each thrust. In spite of the obscenity, the brutality—no, I realized to my dismay, because of it—arousal continued to course through my body. My nipples had hardened to stiff peaks, and I could feel the gathered wetness begin to drip onto my thighs.
“My, my,” Marmareus said, his voice cool and detached even amid the pleasure I knew he must be feeling. “You’ve developed your skills quite well in such a short time, haven’t you, little whore?”