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This crazy bastard is genuinely enjoying every single second of my terror. Before I can process the distance, his dark voice is right at my ear again, breathing evenly while I gasp for air. I skid to a panicked stop.
He stops where I do, perfectly in sync. This guy doesn’t even need a beat. I spin and run the opposite direction, trying desperately to lose him, but he’s on me like a shadow, close enough that I can smell his cologne and feel the heat rolling off him.
Chapter 10
Yakov
My wife runs like prey, and the sight sends heat rushing through my veins. Those short legs pump hard, his tight ass flexing under his pants with every desperate stride, black bangs plastered to his sweaty forehead. My cock aches behind my zipper, thick and ready. I hold back on purpose, giving him ten seconds, then fifteen, just enough to let him think he might get away. The hope makes catching him taste so much sweeter.
I laugh, the sound rolling deep and wild through the dark trees. “Ha ha ha ha ha! Oh my God, wifey, this is so fucking fun! It’s like we’re running down a forest trail together on our honeymoon. Doesn’t it feel exciting, baby? Don’t you feel how right this is?”
He glances back, eyes wide with terror, and cuts sharply left. I follow at a snail’s pace, smiling behind the green mask.
Elias slams through the door of an old groundskeeper shed and vanishes inside. I step in after him and close the rickety door with a quiet click. Moonlight cuts through a cracked window, washing the dusty space in cold silver.
He stands backed into the corner, gripping a rusty rake with both hands. His knuckles are completely white, and his arms tremble.
“Don’t fucking come near me!”
I tilt my head and take one slow step forward. “Drop the rake, baby. Wifey… are you trying to kill your husband?” My voice stays soft and full of all my love. “Spousal homicide is a very serious charge. There are mandatory minimums in most jurisdictions, especially with a documented domestic relationship like ours. Any prosecutor worth anything would destroy a self-defense claim in minutes. They would look at the history of intimacy, your total financial dependence on me, the desperate texts, and the videos I have of you taking my cock so willingly. Premeditation would be effortless to argue. You would get twenty years minimum. Goodbye medical scholarship. Goodbye career. Goodbye hospital payments. So wifey, drop it.”
Elias’s eyes sharpen even through the fear. “We are not married, you delusional fuck. This is textbook self-defense. There is an imminent threat, no safe retreat, and I am using reasonable force. Any judge would throw it out immediately. I am a pre-med student, and I know exactly how trauma and duress work in court. You kidnapped me. You locked me in your flat for a full week without my consent. That is coercion. That is duress. I would walk free.”
I take another step, keeping my movements calm. “Duress requires the immediate, inescapable threat of death or serious bodily harm. You had dozens of opportunities to leave. You took my money willingly. You spread your legs for me every single night. The courts look at the totality of the relationship, Elias. You are not some innocent victim; you are my wife who simply got cold feet. They would call it a domestic dispute gone wrong, and you would still lose years of your life to a prison cell. And while you rot in there, who would pay for your mother’s care? Drop the rake.”
His grip tightens on the rusted wood. His voice shakes, but the words stay sharp. “You cut off her payments the exact second I ran. That is dubious and downright evil. No jury would ever side with you.”
I smile gently behind the mask. “Evidence is a concept I control, baby. I own the security feeds on this island. I own the witnesses. And you? You are just a broke scholarship kid who sold his ass to pay hospital bills. Now drop the weapon before I make this hurt.”
He lunges.
I move fast, relying on years of brutal training and violence. My hand snaps out, wrenching the heavy rake straight from his grip and flinging it aside with a loud metallic clatter. Before he can even scream, I spin him around hard and shove him down to his knees on the dirty wooden floor. Elias thrashes wildly, but I hold him in place.
I unzip my pants, pull my thick, leaking cock free, and rub the swollen, precum-slick head aggressively across his tightly pressed lips, painting the skin glossy and wet. “Open up, wifey. You owe me for running away. Be a good boy and suck your husband’s cock the way you were trained to.”
He keeps his lips sealed tight, his eyes blazing with a mix of pure fear and raw defiance.
I pinch his nose shut with two fingers. “Refusing me again? After I was so generous with your choices?”
His face turns red fast. His mouth finally gasps wide open, desperate for oxygen. I thrust forward hard, shoving every thick inch straight into his hot, wet throat in one brutal, long stroke.
“Fuck… yes. That’s my good wife.” I hold his head steady with one hand, the other still pinching his nose close. “The only air you get now comes past my cock, baby. Breathe through me. This is what happens when you disobey your husband.”
I start slow at first, savoring the incredibly tight squeeze of his throat convulsing around my flesh. Wet, filthy gagging sounds fill the quiet shed immediately—gluck, gluck, gluck—every single time I push deeper. Saliva bubbles rapidly at the corners of his stretched lips and pours down his chin in thick strings, soaking the front of his shirt. His throat flutters and spasms in a panic, milking my shaft in desperate waves.
Elias jerks and struggles wildly, muffled choking noises vibrating loudly around my cock. His shoulders heave as he tries to pull back, but I keep him pinned down, feeding him every inch until his nose presses flat against my pelvis and his throat bulges visibly with my size.
“Easy, baby. Relax that tight throat for me. You’re doing so well already. Such a perfect little cocksucker for your husband.” I rock my hips in shallow, teasing thrusts, making him feel the weight of me sitting on his tongue, forcing him to feel the way the thick vein along the underside pulses against it. “That is it. Swallow around the head. Feel how full your throat is right now? That is all me. All for you.”
He keeps fighting for the first minute, his body twisting on the floor while hot tears stream down his flushed cheeks. But the lack of air and the relentless, deep pressure eventually break his resistance. His struggles slow down. His shoulders sag in defeat. When I finally release his nose, he sucks in desperate, ragged breaths through his flared nostrils, wheezing and coughing around my cock, but he doesn’t pull away. His tongue starts moving—hesitant at first, then much more obedient—licking wetly along the underside as I slide in and out of his mouth.
“Good boy. There you go. Breathe through your nose while I use this warm little mouth.” I loosen my grip on his head just enough for him to pull back a couple of inches, then push right back in deep, fucking his face with long strokes. The wet slap of my balls against his chin mixes perfectly with the constant, obscene gagging noises. Spit flies everywhere. His lips are swollen and shiny, stretched obscenely wide around my girth.
“You feel how your throat stretches open for me every single time I push in? That greedy little hole swallows every inch to milk your husband’s cock.” I groan low, pleasure building fast. “Suck harder on the way out. Yes, just like that. Use that tongue right under the head. Such a talented little mouth. You are getting so fucking good at draining me, my sweet obedient wife. Keep working that throat pussy. Show me how much you need your husband’s cum.”
Elias whimpers around my shaft, the vibration shooting straight through me. I hold him deep, grinding slowly, then pull back just enough for him to drag in air before sliding in again. I fuck his face with long, possessive strokes, chasing the tight heat building at the base of my spine.
Elias’s eyes glaze over, sinking half-closed. Tears still spill over his lashes, but his body finally gives up and goes pliant. He drops all resistance and starts working me—pulling his cheeks in tight, swirling his tongue along the underside, and swallowing convulsively every time I hit the back of his throat. The sounds get wetter and sloppier with every thrust — loud, filthy gagging mixed with the constant squelch of spit.
