He rode out my orgasm, his thrusts never faltering, his cock invading my body relentlessly. He was a marathon runner, and I was his finish line. He was going to fuck me until I was a broken, whimpering mess, until I couldn’t remember my own name, let alone the mission that had brought me to his bed.
And the terrifying, exhilarating part?
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop.
He finally stilled, his cock buried deep inside me, his weight a heavy, grounding presence. I was a boneless, trembling mess, a puddle of limbs and sensations on his silk sheets. He leaned down, his breath hot on my ear, his voice a low, possessive growl.
“Who do you belong to, Kara-with-a-K?”
I couldn’t answer. I was too wrecked, too thoroughly fucked to form a coherent thought.
“Who. Do. You. Belong. To?” he repeated, his words punctuated by hard, deep thrusts.
“You,” I whispered, the single word an unanticipated surrender. “I belong to you.”
A triumphant smirk curled his lips. He rewarded me with a final, punishing thrust, and then he came, a guttural, primal groan tearing from his throat as he emptied himself inside me. The feeling of his hot release sent a shudder through my body.
He collapsed on top of me, his weight a welcome, heavy blanket. We lay there for a long moment, our bodies tangled, our breaths mingling in the quiet room. The city lights shimmered outside the windows, a silent, indifferent witness to my shameful undoing.
I was furious. I was spent. I was, for the first time in a very long time, completely out of my depth.
I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath as he pulled out of me and rolled onto his side. He grabbed my hips and maneuvered me onto my back.
I thought my ordeal was over.
It wasn’t.
His hand slipped between my legs and I jumped, startled, as his fingers gathered the cum leaking out of me and smoothed it over my clit.
“Now, I think it’s finally time to begin the punishment I had in mind for you, naughty girl.”
Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the post-coital haze. He’d already destroyed me. What more could he possibly do?
“Youcan’t be serious,” I managed, weak and breathy in my reply.
He chuckled, the sound dangerous. “I’m just getting started with you, Kara-with-a-K.”
He spread my legs wider, using his ankle locked over mine to hold me open. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me, flushed and fucked and completely at his mercy. “You have such a pretty pussy,” he warned. “It’s a shame it belongs to such a defiant girl.”
Before I could retort, helifted his hand and slapped me between the legs with the flats of his fingers.The blow sent a wet, stinging crack echoing throughout the room. It wasn’t the hard, open-palmed spank of before, but a focused, intimate burn that was somehow even more shocking.
I failed to restrain my strangled gasp. My body jolted, a surge of pure electric sensation shooting straight to my clit. It was a wickedly intimate act of dominance that both horrified and aroused me at the same time. The sting made my toes curl.
He did it again. Andagain.
Each slap was a punctuation mark in the sentence he was writing on my body. The pain was intense, but it was quickly swallowed by a pleasure so powerful that it very nearly made me shatter right then and there.
I was going to come again. The thought was quite the revelation. I tried to fight it, to cling to the last vestiges of my control, but it was no use. He was a master of my body, and he knew exactly how to play it.
“Look at me, dirty girl,” he commanded. “Look at me when you come from getting your pretty little pussy spanked brightpink.”His eyes bored into mine, a dark, possessive fire burning within them.
The world narrowed to his face, to his eyes, to the relentless, stinging rhythm of his hand smacking between my legs. The pleasure crested like a tidal wave washing over me, pulling me under into a sea of white-hot euphoria. I came with a strangled cry, my body trembling and my core squeezing tight.
He didn’t stop. He just kept spanking my pussy, his hand relentless, drawing out my orgasm, making it last, making it completely his.
When the final tremors subsided, I was a boneless, trembling mess. He finally stopped, his hand resting on my thigh, warm and possessive.
I lay there, panting, my body slick with sweat and cum. The mission, the data—it all felt like a distant dream, a life I had lived in another world. There was only this. Only him. Only the overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure that had destroyed me and remade me all at once.
