I hesitated, my pride a fragile shield against the onslaught of his dominance. He pressed his fingers against my lipsandI opened my mouth, the scent of my own arousal a potent, dizzying aphrodisiac. I tasted myself on his fingers, a sweet, salty, musky flavor that was both strange and intimately familiar.
“You like this,” he stated, not a question, but a fact. “You like the pain. You like the humiliation. You like me taking control.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.It was too much.The words were a dam, and if I spoke, the floodgates would open.
He laughed, the sound triumphant. “We both know the truth, little slut.”
He raised the belt again, and my whole body tensed in anticipation.
He belted me once more.
Hard.
He didn’t stop after that. He continued to thrashme,making sure to lay down welts from the tops of my bare ass cheeks to the middle of my tender thighs.
I lost track of the number of times he whipped that belt across my flesh. I lost track of everything but the sting of the leather and the heat pooling in my core. The pain was a blazing fire, but I was burning on the inside with need with every crack of the belt against my naked ass. At some point, I tried to crawl forward on the bed to avoid the stinging lashes, but there was no escape.
I was coming apart at the seams, a million pieces scattered on the bed. The soldier, the agent, the woman who had fought so hard to maintain control was gone, replaced by a creature of pure sensation. A creature who craved the pain, the humiliation, the loss of control.
He finally stopped, and I lay there, panting, my body trembling, my mind a blank, hazy fog. My ass was a throbbing inferno, a masterpiece of red welts, I was sure of it.
He dropped the belt on the floor. The soft clink of the buckle was a reassuring sound in the quiet room. He was done.
Then I heard the rasp of a zipper.
The soft thud of his jeans hitting the floor.
My heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. This was it. The moment I had been dreading and craving in equal measure. The moment he would take me. Claim me. Own me.
His big body loomed behind me. He kicked my feet wider apart, a rough, possessive gesture that made my pussy clench in anticipation. I could feel the heat of him, the hard, solid length of his cock pressing against the swollen, slick folds of my sex.
I braced myself. Waiting.
He slammed himself into me in one brutal thrust.
There was no preamble. No slow, gentle stretching. No consideration for my comfort. Just aruthlessly dominating invasion that stole my breath away.
I cried out, a shamefully ragged sound that was half pain, half shock. He was big and I wasn’t exactly prepared for it. His cock was a thick, hard stretch that burned in a way that was both agony and ecstasy. He’d given me no warning, no preparation, and my body, already sensitized from the belting, rebelled against the sudden, overwhelming intrusion.
“Does it hurt, little slut?” he growled, his hands gripping my hips like a vise, pulling me back to meet him.
I could only moan in response.
He started to move then, really move. He pulled out, leaving just the head of his cock inside me, then rammed back inside me, making my whole body jerk.
My body responded instinctually, my hips rising to meet his thrusts, my inner muscles clamping down on him. His hand came down on my already sore ass in asudden,stingingslapthat sent a jolt of pure fire straight to my core. I yelped before I could stop myself.
Another one, on the other cheek. My whole body tensed, a fresh wave of pain washing over me, mixing with the pleasure building in my core.
“You’re getting wetter,” he observed as he drove into me, over and over again. “You like this, don’t you? You like me punishing you and using you like this.”
I couldn’t answer. It was too much. It was not enough.
Then he stilled.
I whimpered at the loss of sensation, a desperate, pleading sound I didn’t even know I was capable of making.
“Andrei,” I breathed. “Please.”
