Read Novel Full Chapter 934: Ripped (r-18)
Chapter 934: Ripped (r-18)
He rose from between her thighs in one fluid motion, towering over her where she sat trembling on the marble counter. Patt’s chest heaved, nipples stiff peaks tenting the thin white blouse, thighs still spread wide and glistening with the slick that had run down from her ruined panties.
Her eyes were wide, pupils blown black, lips parted on shallow, desperate breaths.
Without a word he reached for her blazer.
His fingers hooked into the lapels — strong, unyielding — and he ripped.
The fabric tore with a sharp, violent rrrrrip that echoed through the quiet suite. Buttons pinged off in every direction, skittering across the marble and bouncing onto the floor like tiny gunshots. Patt gasped sharply, whole body jerking at the sudden force.
The tailored blazer — expensive, professional, her armor in boardrooms — hung in shredded tatters from her shoulders, the lining split, exposing the crisp white shirt beneath.
She trembled. Hard. A full-body shiver that made her medium breasts jiggle inside the cups of her bra and her juicy thighs quiver against the cool stone. Her hands flew up instinctively, clutching the torn edges of the blazer like she might try to hold it together — but her eyes were shining with something darker than shock. Hunger. Relief. Shame-tinged excitement.
"Eros..." Her voice cracked, small. "I... I’ve never been..."
He didn’t let her finish.
He grabbed the front of her shirt with both fists and tore it open from collar to hem in one brutal yank. The sound was louder this time — a savage rrrrrrrip of expensive cotton giving way. Buttons exploded across the counter, some rolling off the edge to clatter on the floor.
The shirt parted like tissue paper, revealing the black lace bra that barely contained her medium, perfectly rounded breasts — full C-cups, firm and perky, nipples dark and diamond-hard against the delicate fabric.
Her stomach was soft but toned, a faint sheen of sweat already making her skin glow under the low lights.
Patt’s breath hitched into a broken moan. She trembled harder now — thighs squeezing together once before spreading wider again, fresh slick leaking visibly from the crotch of her panties and dripping onto the marble with soft plinks.
Her hands clutched the torn shirt uselessly, knuckles white.
"More," she whispered, voice small and shaking. "Please... rip it all. Treat me like I’m nothing. Most men... they always respected me. They were careful. Polite. I don’t want polite tonight. I want you to destroy me."
The words seemed to ignite something in him.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and yanked downward with brutal force. The zipper screamed, the fabric split at the seams with a loud rrrrrip, and the entire skirt tore away in his hands like it was made of paper.
He tossed the ruined garment aside. Then he reached behind her, grabbed the clasp of her bra, and tore it off in one savage pull — straps snapping, lace ripping, the cups falling away to fully expose her medium breasts.
They bounced free — perky, round, the perfect handful, nipples stiff and dark, areolas slightly puckered from arousal. Her skin flushed crimson from throat to chest.
Patt moaned loudly at the exposure — a raw, needy sound — back arching, pushing her tits toward him. "Yes... like that... treat me like your worthless maid... like I’m just a hole for you..."
Well, that came out of nowhere. But what could he do, the lady had asked, right?
He spun her around on the counter so she faced away from him, hands planted on the cool marble, ass presented high. Her perky, round, firm ass — two perfect, heart-shaped globes, smooth and pale with the faint red marks from earlier thigh kisses — jiggled slightly as she settled into position.
SLAP.
His palm cracked down hard on her right cheek. He liked the firmness, she did a lot of exercise to keep this firmness, didn’t she? The sound was sharp, wet, echoing. Her ass rippled from the impact, the flesh turning bright pink instantly.
"Ahh—fuck—!" She cried out, moaning loud and broken, pushing back into the sting.
SLAP.
Left cheek this time — harder. The firm globe bounced, skin blooming red. She moaned again, louder, thighs trembling, pussy clenching visibly beneath the soaked panties so that a fresh string of slick stretched down from her entrance to the marble.
"More," she begged, voice cracking. "Slap my tits too... please... I want to feel small... worthless... just your toy..."
He reached around, cupped one medium breast firmly, and slapped the soft flesh with his other hand, softly than he did her ass, — sharp enough to make it jiggle and sting. She cried out in pleasure, nipple hardening even more under the impact.
SLAP. The other breast — firmer this time.
Her moan turned into a sob of pure need.
All the while he kissed her — every inch he could reach. His mouth dragged hot, open-mouthed kisses down the back of her neck, across her shoulders, along her spine. He sucked marks into the skin between her shoulder blades — hard enough to leave dark purple hickeys that would bloom tomorrow.
He licked the salty sweat from the dip of her lower back, kissed the red handprints blooming on her ass cheeks, dragged his teeth lightly over the sensitive curve where ass met thigh.
Every kiss was possessive, wet, claiming — lips and tongue mapping her body while his hands continued their work.
SLAP —
SLAP —
SLAP.
Three more firm spanks on her perky ass, each one making the round cheeks bounce and jiggle, turning the pale skin a deep, glowing red. She pushed back into every slap, moaning louder each time, begging between gasps.
"Yes—harder—treat me like I’m beneath you—most men always held back—please don’t hold back on me Eros—slap my tits again—make them sting—make me feel small—"
He obliged. One hand fisted her hair, yanking her head back so her back arched beautifully, tits thrust out. The other hand delivered two sharp slaps to each breast — the soft flesh rippling, nipples flushing darker, her moans turning into continuous, broken cries that filled the suite.
But he didn’t stop at slaps.
He turned her again — facing him now — and bent low. His mouth found her breasts. He kissed the soft undersides first — slow, open-mouthed, tongue tracing the gentle curve where breast met ribcage.
Then he sucked hard on the tender skin just below the nipple, pulling the flesh into his mouth until a dark purple mark bloomed against the pale swell.
He moved to the other breast, repeating the process — kissing every inch, sucking bruises into the soft skin, leaving a constellation of hickeys across her chest that would be impossible to hide tomorrow.
Patt’s starved body reacted like it had been waiting years for this.
Every time his lips touched her skin she shuddered violently — a full-body tremor that made her thighs clench, her pussy clench, fresh slick leak from her soaked panties in a steady drip. Her nipples ached so badly she sobbed when he finally took one into his mouth — sucking hard, tongue flicking the stiff peak while his hand slapped the other breast again.
The dual sensation — wet heat and sharp sting — made her cry out, back bowing, hands flying to his hair to hold him against her.
"More marks," she begged, voice wrecked. "Cover me... make me look like I belong to you... please..."
He obeyed.
He kissed down her stomach — slow, deliberate — sucking bruises into the soft skin just above her navel, then lower, along the gentle curve of her lower belly. Every mark he left made her tremble harder — her starved body drinking in the attention like it was starving for it.
Her thighs shook violently around him, slick running in thin rivulets down the inner flesh, pooling beneath her ass on the marble.
Then he turned her once more — ass up, chest pressed to the cool counter, hands braced wide.
He kissed her ass cheeks first — soft, reverent at first — lips brushing the glowing red skin where he’d slapped her.
Then he sucked — hard — pulling the firm flesh into his mouth until another dark hickey bloomed against the scarlet background. He moved lower, kissing the crease where ass met thigh, sucking bruises into the sensitive skin just below her cheeks, so close to her soaked pussy that she could feel his hot breath ghosting over her entrance.
SLAP —
SLAP —
SLAP.
Three more hard spanks on her perky ass, each one making the round globes bounce and jiggle, the red deepening to angry crimson. She moaned at every impact — loud, broken, pushing back into his hand.
"Please... slap my tits again... mark them too... make me feel owned..."
He reached around, cupped one breast and slapped it sharply — then sucked hard on the nipple while he slapped the other, making her scream. The combination — wet heat on one, stinging slap on the other — made her sob with pleasure.
All the while his mouth never stopped — kissing every inch of her starved body, leaving dark purple marks across her breasts, stomach, back, ass, thighs. She trembled violently under each kiss — skin flushing hotter, pussy clenching emptily, slick dripping steadily onto the marble in a dark, spreading pool.
Her starved body drank in every touch like it had been denied for years. Every mark he left made her feel claimed, possessed, small — exactly what she craved. Most men had always treated her like porcelain.
Patt had never felt more alive.
"Eros..." she sobbed, voice wrecked, pushing her marked ass back against him. "I’m yours... do whatever you want... just don’t stop... mark me everywhere... make me look like I belong to you..."