I try to shift my hips, just a little, getting that single damn finger where I want it.
“Keep still,” he says immediately. “Try not to squirm.”
Fucker!
“Ihateyou.” It just comes out.
Alex laughs. “Shouldn’t have married me then.”
“You didn’t give me a choice.”
His finger pauses. “You’re right, I suppose I didn’t.” His finger starts moving again. “Still, we both know that’s how you like it, don’t we?”
I choke on a gasp of indignation, only for him to give another of his irritating chuckles.
“Keep your ass raised,” he says, and I feel him moving over me. His legs lie either side of mine, squeezing them closed. His hips pressing into my ass,and his cock is already hard, sliding through the oil that coats me. One hand comes down on the side of my body, and my mind provides the images: his weight supported on one arm, that gorgeous chest flexing, his stomach tightening. My mouth waters, and I can’t even see him.
And my hips press up of their own accord, seeking him. A nonverbal begging.
Maybe I don’t hate him that much.
“There’s my Tink,” he murmurs. “Always ready for me, even when you refuse to admit it.”
…or maybe I do.
But the truth is, I can’t help my response to him. I’ve never been able to, not since the first day we met. And certainly not since the night of the dance, when he ripped off my dress and pinned me. Before the ropes even came out, before the spankings, the forced orgasms, the knife.
Is this relationship growth? A descent into depravity and darkness?
Fuck it, I don’t care anymore. This is what Iwant.
“Take my ass, you bastard,” I grind out through clenched teeth, “but you better not stop if you do. No more of thatgentle sexyou’re so fond of.” I give those two words all the disdain I can muster.
There. We’re communicating. Real progress.
His body stills. “Did you just beg me to fuck your ass hard as I can?”
“No, I…” I stop to think about it, and then I tremble.
His hand closes on the nape of my neck, and hischest pushes into my back. “As you wish, Tink.”
Then his hand slips away, and I whimper. Whether it’s at the loss of his touch, the promise of his words, or what’s about to happen, I can’t be sure.
I feel his fingers brush against my ass as he takes his cock in his hand. The head of him rubs through my folds, nudges against my clit, presses there for a delicious moment, then slides up to the entrance to my pussy.
And he drives forward.
Alex slides into me, my arousal and the oil that coats us helping, but the stretch is still tight enough to make me cry out. And he’s not gentle; his hips slam into my ass, reminding me that one cheek has been thoroughly spanked. The sting, the soreness, the fuckingasymmetricalburn that merges with the incredible sensation of his cock penetrating me. I go from empty and aching to filled and aching in the time it takes for his girth to force its way in, andGodI know which I prefer.
Then he draws back, and slams into me again. And again.
Each thrust draws a cry from me. My arms are locked, hands pressing against the bars, muscles tensed as he takes me. He claims my body as his, and all I can do is brace beneath his onslaught and lift my hips in offering.
It’s hard, it’s brutal, it’s exactly what I need. I thought he was going to take my ass, but he’s inside my pussy, driving me toward my orgasm with every pounding thrust. My gasps grow high in pitch and Ipush back, wanting more. Just a little more.
“Don’t you dare come without permission,” he growls.
“No!” The word bursts free. I was so close!Bastard.
