Foster
If Sage thought he could fuck me into not murdering him…
He was right.
At least temporarily.
The clothespins on my nipples didn’t hurt, but I knew it was only a matter of time before my body recognized the pressure, the way the pins restricted my blood flow, the way I ached.
Sage motioned for me to turn around, and I did. The flat of his hand pressed against the center of my spine, folding me over the top of the washing machine. My chest sparked with pain when the pins struggled to lie flat against the cold metal lid. I twisted beneath his hand and it disappeared, quickly showing up again against the flesh of my ass.
“Stop it,” Sage hissed. “I’m injured.”
He leaned over me, his chest against my back, his lips at my ear. “Remember, I almost died on your floor. You saved my life, Golden. You saved my life, so settle down and let me thank you for it.”
His body pulled away and he spanked me again. Heat seared through my body and I couldn’t stop the way I arched for him, pushing my ass toward his hand.
“What do you say, Golden?”
I dropped my forehead against the lid of the washing machine and clenched my jaw. When I didn’t answer, a thick, unlubricated finger spread my ass apart and pushed at my hole.
“What do you say?”
“You’re welcome,” I grunted.
Sage shoved his finger into me with so much force my cock grazed the side of the washer. “Asshole,” I muttered.
“The word you’re looking for isSir.” Sage pulled his finger out and tore open the condom wrapper.
“Not anymore,” I said. “The time for that is long gone.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
Sage’s fingers returned to my hole, now slick with lube. He pushed into me, a little rough, but the way he knew I liked it. He pumped in and out of me enough to tease at what was to come, then replaced his fingers with his cock. His hips snapped forward, burying his condom-covered length into me with one sharp thrust.
His hand snaked around my front, cradling my throat and pulling my body back just enough that my chest didn’t touch the washer. With a growl, he fucked into me, the clothespins attached to my nipples jerking with the momentum of his thrusts.
There was the pain I’d been waiting for.
Sage’s other hand released my hip and reached around to my chest. He teased the end of one of the clothespins, pulling and twisting it away from my body while he fucked away at me from behind. It hurt, and it made me hard, and I hated him for it. A rough tug had all the muscles in my body tightening, and behind me, Sage leaned down and sank his teeth into the back of my neck.
“I have to admit,” he said after letting me go and dragging his tongue across the divots left by his teeth, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this tight fucking hole of yours, Golden.”
I bit the edge of my tongue between my teeth, fighting against the waves of pleasure that washed over me every time he buried himself inside.
“I’ve jerked off about you so many times, I thought I’d rubbed my dick raw,” he continued unprompted. “I thought I’d forgotten how good the real thing was, but fuck…”
His hands dragged down my body, away from my throat and my chest. Touches far gentler than I wanted—or deserved—until his fingers settled around my waist like clamps. His touch dug into me, no doubt leaving bruises from how tight he held me. Sage pistoned in and out of me, slamming my body against the washing machine like it didn’t matter if he broke my bones.
“No one lets me fuck them the way you do,” Sage grunted, hips slapping madly against my ass. “Never. Fuck. Golden, take those clothespins off and cry for me.”
“Not enough to make me cry,” I grit out, snapping the pins off my nipples before I had a chance to realize what I was doing.
One.
Two.
Three.
