“I said, fucking count!” he bellows.
“One,” I sob.
He delivers another agonizing hit.
“Two.”
Nineteen to go. My body convulsesfrom the stinging slaps—each one harder, more excruciating than the last. Finally, my harrowing punishment is over.
“I hope you learned a valuable lesson,” he says, fondling my sore buttocks.
“I did,” I croak.
“Good.” He unzips his fly. “Listening to your anguished screams made me so damn horny, I nearly came in my boxers.” His lips graze the shell of my ear.
“I need to rest,” I say, fatigued and emotionally drained.
“And I need to fuck.” Dom pulls my thong to the side and violently thrusts inside of me. “Your pussy is dripping wet and so fucking hot.”
“It hurts,” I whisper.
“It’s supposed to,” he grunts.
His right hand grips the fence for purchase, and the left fastens around the belt, once again cutting off precious air. Dom callously batters between my thighs, not showing an ounce of leniency. My garbled cries echo through the night. I’m on the verge of losing consciousness.
“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?” he growls. “Never underestimate me.”
With lighting speed, Dom changes positions, pinning me to the brick wall. My legs circle his waist as he continues pillaging my tight sheath. His teeth sink into my shoulder, piercing my flesh and marking me in the most primal way. My muscles contract, responding to his wild and brutal claiming. A torrent of spasms rocks my center, shattering me into a million pieces. Dom groans, bulldozing in and out of me like a madman. We ride the high of our orgasm together and then he carries me to his car.
I spot Pepper strolling along the beach from the kitchen window. She’s fucking gorgeous. Her glossy mane and gold nightgown billow in the wind, lending her an ethereal quality. After waking in bed alone, I donned my boxer briefs and went to search for her. We arrived at my private island two days ago for a week’s stay—my other birthday gift to her. I drove to her friend’s house and ordered her to pack her shit and be back outside in five minutes. Pepper was livid but followed my instructions. She’s showing her displeasure by scarcely speaking to me. Honestly, she’s doing me a favor. A quiet woman is preferable to a whining, nagging one. The moment my eyes locked on her in the club, an uncontrollable bloodlust consumed me, and she suffered for it. That scrap of cloth considered a dress barely covered her ass, and the tiny thong underneath it left her pussy lips exposed. They will be added to my “Pepper’s panties” collection. And those sexy as fuck heels, my God… she wore them while I fucked her senseless last night. I admit my behavior is irredeemable… atrocious, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m a remorseless Grade-A asshole.
My stomach growls, reminding me to eat breakfast. My caretaker brought food and toiletries for our stay. I scan the contents of the refrigerator to decide this morning’s menu. It doesn’t take long to whip up a meal. I set a spread of western omelets, toast, butter, orange juice, and coffee on the table. Pepper comes into the kitchen, glaring at me.
“Hungry?” I ask, sweetly.
“Yes,” she answers sharply and sits in the chair adjacent to me.
She eats a piece of her omelet and frowns, not impressed with my culinary skills.
“Something wrong?”
“It’s bland,” she says snidely.
The silent treatment isn’t bothering me, so she’s trying a different angle to test my patience, but I relish a challenge.
“I know just what’s needed.” I stand and pull out my cock.
“I’m confused,” she says.
“Obviously, I mean for you to suck it.”
She rebelliously shakes her head.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I seize her sleek tresses in a vise hold, snatching strands from her scalp. “Open. Your. Mouth.”
She grimaces in pain and hastily complies. I surge forward, hammering her tonsils relentlessly. Pepper retches, inept to handle the ruthless onslaught. In a desperate bid for freedom, her fingernails score my abdomen. After a few more strokes, I draw back and come on her omelet.
“Enjoy.”
