“You,” I answer, the word trembling on my lips. I can’t think clearly, let alone form a coherent sentence.
“Me to do what?” he probes, his other hand reaching to my ass. Its warmth feels fucking incredible, and I push into his palm, demanding something I can’t voice. “Maybe this?” he asks, gripping my ass firmly, the pressure shooting straight to my brain and flooding me with a delirium-like rush of pleasure.
“More,” I choke out weakly.
A slap to my ass forces my eyes open before a gasp rips from my throat. Tingles burn in their wake, and I feel his hot imprint staining my flushed skin. My breathing quickens, the vibration from his touch still reaching my brain in waves.
I feel him pause, his gaze locking onto me, searching, testing, probing. Time stretches in that moment as I ground myself, letting the awareness of his presence ripple through me. Slowly, I shift, pressing my body against his in a silent, wordless response, letting him know without saying anything.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, his words laced with quiet lust.
Mentally bracing myself for more slaps, I fist the sheets harder, closing my eyes.
But even with all the time in the world, I can’t be fully prepared for what he delivers. The second slap reaches my ears first, and only after a few seconds do I register the burning pain. The pull in my core intensifies, coiling tight and sharp, feeding my pleasure until it teeters on the edge of unbearable. Every nerve ignites, every breath catches, and the sensation spirals through me, relentless and consuming.
The third strike lands with a muted thud, the spot already dulled, nearly numb from the previous impacts. His warm palm lingers on my cheek, kneading the sting gently. The massageoffers a fleeting reprieve, a brief pause for me to gather my scattered senses and steady my breathing.
I don’t notice him leaning over me, only the heat of his body pressing into my back, the rough planes of his abs grazing my skin through the fabric. His hand seeks mine, and through the thunder of my pulse, I feel the faint ghost of his touch—his thumb brushing against my knuckles, asking the same silent question, refusing to accept that Iwantthis.
A sharp gasp escapes me as I move my hand over his, curling my fingers around his. He reads the touch and pulls back, leaving the warmth of him gone from my back and hand. I bite down on my bottom lip, bracing myself, ready for the next wave of sweet, searing pain.
My juices slide down my inner thighs as I squeeze my thighs just a bit, chasing the whispers of euphoria while my skin burns from the slaps.
And then, it happens again.
And again.
Andagain.
Slaps keep landing on my ass, one after one, and at some moment, he switches attention to my other cheek, painting my skin red as he gives it the same treatment. I can only twitch and fist my sheets more, my head dropping only to stop mid-way when the blade appears and starts pushing a little too hard against my neck.
Jerking my head up, I bite my lower lip harder until my mouth floods with the taste of iron, while pathetically weak sounds tumble from my lips.
I lose count after nine slaps, and after that, I justfeel. I arrive somewhere far beyond the place I once inhabited, my mind severed clean from my soul. The pain and impact linger, stubborn and unyielding, refusing to let go. I won’t have to chase them again, wrestling with their fleeting presence and frustratedwhen they vanish too quickly—this time, they will fucking remain.
They remain, burning into me with an intoxicating fusion of pain and pleasure, scorching my thoughts, bending every belief, erasing every shred of morality I once held onto.
Everything inside me falls still. The doubts, the noise, the need to claw my way toward some feeling—all disappear. What remains is a raw, exhilarating freedom that pours through my body, settling into a calm that feels impossibly steady.
I surrender without hesitation, taking only what Dante chooses to place in my hands. Tears pool at my lashes and slide down my face as the moment stretches into something vast and consuming. For the first time, I let myself slip completely out of control.
My lips part as I feel two of his fingers plunging inside me, hitting that spot right away. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I shamelessly grind against his hand, chasing the long-awaited pleasure while squeezing my legs over and over again.
“Fuck my fingers, baby,” he instructs, a husky sound ripping from his chest. “Show me how much you enjoy this.”
I turn into a goddamn animal as I quicken the pace, fucking him back at a fast speed. He pushes further, his fingers jamming hard into my pussy, sending sharp, skittering waves of electricity. He rotates them, twisting and turning, spreading a blend of agony and pleasure that consumes everything alive inside me. Dante alternates between plunging them in and out roughly, then slowly, deliberately massaging my walls, spreading them in a tease that tears tiny screams from my throat.
“Oh, God!” I yelp, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I begin to shake.
His answer to my plea is a deeper thrust until his knuckles tickle my wet pussy. Dropping the knife with a loud clutter, hemoves his other hand to my clit, pinching it between his long fingers.
My core keeps pulling and nagging with an agony that perfectly intertwines with animalistic pleasure. Wet sounds keep reaching my ears, and they quickly get lost in a ringing that spreads in my ears as I near my climax.
The wave of orgasm that crashes over me steals all of my senses, stripping me bare and leaving nothing but a mess behind. I let out a scream, pushing back against him as he fucks me harder, rotating his fingers and deriving every drop of my essence from me.
His name slips past my lips, along with some other unintelligible nonsense, and I hear his praise, his gentle voice grounding me from blacking the fuck out.
He helps me as I ride the waves, steady slaps on my ass bouncing off my skin before I begin to calm down. Slowly, my heartbeat steadies, and a shiver runs through me as the ringing in my ears fades away. The world creeps back in, and I loosen my grip on the sheets, sinking back into reality.
