4

North’s POV

"Turn around," he ordered.

I complied, then gasped as his hand seized my left buttock, squeezing the flesh like he was testing its firmness. I fought back a moan, but his lips descended on the nape of my neck, teeth grazing my skin. 

The sharp sting wasn't as painful as I'd expected; instead, it sent electric signals straight to my groin. His other hand roamed down my chest, brushing past a nipple that hardened instantly, then across my stomach. I instinctively sucked in my belly. When his fingers ventured lower, past my pubic hair and wrapped around my shaft, I jerked like I'd been shocked.

"When last?" His murmur against my shoulder made me shiver.

"What?" I managed, my voice dry and cracking.

"When last did you have sex?" He planted a soft kiss on my jawline. "Hmm?"

"I... I can't remember." I weakly tried to push his hands away, though it was useless.

The hand on my shaft disappeared, creeping between my ass cheeks. I shuddered as his finger brushed against my hole.

"Sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure why.

I couldn't see his face, but I sensed his annoyance. He released me, opening a drawer near his bed and retrieving a bottle of lube and a roll of condoms. A whole roll. My heart skipped.

"What? I didn't pay enough to use a roll?"

Before I could explain that I was terrified because the massive erection pressing against my ass for the last five minutes would soon be inside me, he spoke unexpectedly.

"It would be doubled if I successfully finish this roll in you."

With his teeth, he tore open a condom wrapper, then stopped. A slow, devastating smile spread across his face, the kind of smile that could make a man forget his own name, natural, confident, and utterly captivating.

"Help me, Mr. Legal Practitioner," he said in a mocking, helpless voice.

Exhaling slowly, I took the condom from him and tried to place it on his impressive erection, but he stopped me.

"Tsk, tsk. You have to kneel to see it properly, silly." Again, that closed-lip smile that promised everything and nothing.

I swallowed hard and sank to my knees. Before I could react, he gripped my hair, holding my head in place as the tip of his cock tapped against my lips.

"Mr. Lawyer, why don't you show me how you'd suck me if I were a judge presiding over the case you need to survive?"

An odd request, but then again, what did I expect from a man who exclusively targeted final year law students? I couldn't comprehend such a specific kink, how one even developed such desires.

The base of his thick cock was warm as he pressed it against my lips. It was wider than my mouth, I knew it wouldn't fit. He didn't care about my thoughts, couldn't hear them anyway. He guided his dick into my mouth, and it felt like trying to swallow a whole avocado whole. My tongue flattened to make room. They said the mouth could stretch wide, but mine had reached its limit. My jaw ached, yet he kept going, and only when he hit the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex, did I realize he intended to fuck my throat.

My eyes widened as the condom fell to the floor. I grasped his thighs, trying to create distance, but he held my head with both hands now. Then he began to move, slowly at first. The sounds of me gagging, struggling for breath, saliva overflowing, slapping, and trying to pull away filled the room.

"Fuck, fuck," he cursed repeatedly as he forced his massive cock down my throat. I saw my life flash before my eyes, tears streaming down my face, while this man moaned, lost in pleasure, as I fought for mine.

Thrust after thrust, he showed no mercy, treating me like an experienced whore rather than a novice. His pace increased, balls slapping against my chin in rhythm. I fought to stop it, but his groans grew louder with my suffering. As oxygen failed me, I finally pulled away with all my strength, coughing violently, saliva dripping from my mouth.

"You almost killed me," I couldn't stop myself from saying, not caring about his wealth or power in that moment.

The smug bastard only laughed, then took some tissues to wipe himself before bending to pick up the condom and extending it to me.

"Help me put it on."

I stared, still on all fours, barely recovered, and he was trying to trap me again. You're doing this for the money, I reminded myself. Crawling back, I wiped my mouth with my arm. I took the condom, but fear made me turn away quickly, thinking he'd force himself on me again. For some reason, this was amusing to him. At least he didn't try to kill me again and let me put on the condom, which made my heart skip again. That thing was going to be inside me!

He sat back down, stroking his shaft and staring down at me. Then he tossed something at me. I caught it. I looked up at him, then at the lube, confused.

"Make it less tight. You feel like a freaking virgin," he said, his expression blank as before, but his eyes couldn't hide the hunger, like a wolf ready to pounce. I'd rather he pounce than endure the humiliation ritual he was putting me through.

I hesitated, and his brow lifted.

"What are you waiting for?"

I gritted my teeth, suddenly aware that I was kneeling on cold marble tiles—so spotless I could see my reflection, which terrified me. But there was no escaping... he'd said he'd pay double. Another ten thousand would help pay my father's lawyer to stop them from trying to arrest him... enough to survive for a second longer.

I took the lube, placed it on the floor, then turned sideways, my ass not facing him. I poured enough lube in my hand and was about to slide it down my cock when he spoke again.

"Face me."

"What?"

"I want to see how you do it."

I swallowed. How perverse. Yet I obeyed, turning to face him before sitting on the floor. I parted my legs and slid my index finger into my hole, my face wrinkling slightly at the intrusion. I added a second finger, massaging the walls of my entrance. It felt... foreign, invasive, yet strangely electric, like touching a part of myself I'd never acknowledged existed. From my peripheral vision, I saw he had removed the condom and was now stroking his shaft.

"Don't stop."

I was about to stop because it felt too intimate, too vulnerable, but he commanded me not to. He seemed to enjoy watching me finger myself, so I continued.

"Good boy."