I stand and undo my pants, before pulling them along with my underwear down to just below my ass and bend over the table. My jacket bunches up around me, creating a comfortable surface on this old table. The cool air creates a chill over my exposed ass as I wait in anticipation, unsure of what he will do.
I don’t turn around, I just wait. I hear his belt buckle followed by the sound of his zip. He throws a travel sized packet of lube onto the table next to my face, and my breath hitches and my ass clenches automatically at the visual of the packet.
Before I can ask why he has packets of travel lube, I shout out in pain as a heavy hand connects to my right ass cheek, causing me to hold on tight to the rickety table and push onto my tiptoes. The pain stings and burns at the same time.
“This is for thinking you can leave,” he warns, his voice deathly and full of dominance. He is asserting his ownership. Then in quick succession he slaps one cheek after the other, hard and fast. The pain takes a second to catch up to my brain and I groan at the heat that feels like flames on my delicate skin. I want to move away from it and push into it at the same time. I bite my lip hard, trying hard not to scream out.
Again, he alternates two fast strikes and I can’t stop the yelp and groan that fills the room. This is such a foreign feeling to me. I hate it and love it. A punishment that becomes a reward.
“You ever leave again, and this will feel like a massage compared to what I will do to you instead. Understand?” he says before picking up the lube packet from the table.
“Yes…I understand,” I pant, sinking further into the table like it’s part of me. Ethan doesn’t take his time, he’s not gentle or considerate. He wants me now and I want him to go for it. To use me. Remind me that I’m still alive.
He thrusts a lubed finger into my ass and I push back instinctively, wanting him to reach for that part that sends my body into a blissful state. On the second thrust he rubs over that nub and I squeal in delight, bouncing back on his finger like a perfectly trained slut. He’s taking too long, I need his cock.
“That’s enough, please fuck me now, I can’t wait,” I moan and whine as he continues to finger fuck me with now two of his fingers. I can’t control my hips from moving, like they have a mind of their own. Chasingdown that orgasm like it’s the only thing that will keep me alive.
His fingers briefly disappear before the fat head of his cock is pushing inside me with such force I have to grab the table hard, so that he doesn’t push me off. He doesn’t wait for me to relax, for him to settle inside me, he just ruts into me like an alpha fucking his omega in heat. The pain from the spanking along with the sting of the fucking create an overwhelming sensation of completeness. A fullness that radiates through my body, lighting it up like the Empire State building, as stars start to flash in front of my eyes. I don’t need to touch my cock as the friction from the material of my clothes against the hard surface is enough to get me there fast.
“That’s it, cum for me, dirty little whores come for their owners,” he moans and quickens the pace. I can feel he’s about to blow and I’m already ahead of him.
“Fuck!” I shout as I cum all over my clothes and the table, shaking to the core as my release melts my brain into nothing.
“Oh shit, take it, take it,” Ethan bellows as the warmth of his cum fills me to the max. I’ve come to love being full of him, to leak his cum, knowing I carry a part of him inside of me. It’s comforting and so sensual it brings me peace.
“That was amazing,” I say, already feeling dopey from the orgasm of my dreams.
“Don’t fall asleep. I’m not staying any longer in this place. It’s depressing.”
I laugh at his disgust, but it’s warranted. This place is depressing, but with Ethan around, I think I could live anywhere and be very happy.
CHAPTER 32 - ETHAN
Here we are again, back at Starlight, and I already know, tonight is gonna be a night to remember, because tonight, the life Sarah knows will change permanently. One of Marcus’ gang infiltrated Sarah’s life and because she is so easy to manipulate when money is involved, the guy only had to pretend to be rich in order to get her on a date.
Dima agreed for us to use the bar and shut it down for a few hours so we can carry out our good deed to society. It will be a better place around here without her. This place is safe, no witnesses or drunk heroes or confusion. Everyone knows their place. The Blackrose Saints have recently started working with the Kozlovs, so this has worked out well. It’s fate.
We wait inside for Marcus’ colleagues to bring Sarah into the main bar where we mill around. She stumbles inside with the two guys from Marcus’ gang and you can see the moment it all clicks into place, when her eyes land on me.
Her eyes dart around, her mouth dry with the way she keeps licking her lips. Trying to gain some understanding of what’s going on.
I look over to the side and see Jules, Dima’s right hand man, lean against the far wall, arms crossed. Dima stands near the bar, expression bored, like this is just another invoice being processed.
Sarah’s face collapses into regret the closer she gets to me. There is no hope or anger, just an understanding that she fucked up. The guys take her to the stage where they force her to sit on the edge. She tries to resist at first until Marcus gently insists.
I walk slowly toward her, and she never takes her eyes off me.
“I didn’t do anything,” she whispers when I stop in front of her.
“You chose war. I warned you what would happen if you talked to him again. But you couldn’t stop yourself,” I say, and she shakes her head violently.
“You can’t do this. It’s illegal. I’ll scream.”
Dima chuckles quietly, we’ve all heard this shit before.
“Not here, anything goes,” Dima mutters.
“You were warned,” I remind her.
