He climbed off me and stood beside the bed. I lay there motionless, covered in his cum, my hand still between my legs, my whole body trembling with aftershocks.
“You may go wash up, good girl,” he said quietly. “You pleased me.”
I scrambled off the bed on shaking legs and fled to the bathroom. In the mirror, I looked like exactly what he’d called me—a dirty girl, and somehow also a good girl at the same time. My face was streaked with his seed, my hair disheveled, my eyes wild. The peach nightgown was twisted around my body, one breast still exposed.
I cleaned myself with shaking hands, washing my face over and over until every trace of him was gone. But I couldn’t wash away what had happened. Couldn’t erase the memory of my tongue on his anus, of the way I’d come while doing it, of how desperately I’d sought my own pleasure even while performing such a degrading act.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Chris was waiting in bed. He’d pulled back the covers on my side and patted the mattress beside him.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
I climbed in hesitantly, and his arms came around me immediately. He pulled me close against his chest, one hand stroking my hair, the other rubbing gentle circles on my back.
“You did so well,” he murmured. “I’m so proud of you.”
The tenderness in his voice made tears spring to my eyes. After everything he’d just made me do, he was holding me like I was precious. Like I was loved.
We lay in silence for several minutes, his hands moving soothingly over my body. My breathing gradually slowed, my racing heart beginning to calm.
“Do you want to come again?” Chris asked softly.
The question sent a jolt through me. My first instinct was to say no—to pretend I wasn’t still aroused, that my body hadn’t already started responding to his touch again.
But I remembered the punishment for lying. Remembered the switch cutting across my bottom on the trail. And I remembered his words about honesty, about learning to tell him the truth even when it embarrassed me.
“I…” I swallowed hard. “I want to say no. I want to lie and tell you I’m satisfied. But that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?”
Chris’s hand stilled on my back. “Yes, it would be.”
“The truth is…” My face burned with shame. “The truth is I do want to come again. My body is already… already responding to you touching me. And I’m so ashamed of that. Of being so needy and wanton.”
“Good girl,” Chris murmured, and I heard the smile in his voice. “Such a good, honest girl for telling me the truth even though it embarrassed you.”
His hand slid down my body, slipping inside my panties. His fingers found my clit and began moving in slow, expert circles.
I moaned, my hips pushing forward to meet his touch. The arousal that had never fully faded roared back to life, made even more intense by the praise he’d given me for my honesty.
“Ride my hand,” Chris commanded softly. “Take what you need like a good little slut.”
I did, even as a whimper came from my lips at the terrible word. My hips moved against his fingers, seeking the pressure and friction my body craved. It didn’t take long. Within a minute I was gasping, my hands clenching into tight fists in front of me as another orgasm built inside me.
“That’s it,” he urged. “Come for me again. Show me how much your body needs fucking.”
The orgasm rolled through me, gentler than the last but no less intense. I cried out against Chris’s chest, my whole body shuddering as pleasure pulsed through me.
When it ended, I lay limp and exhausted in his arms. His hand withdrew from my panties and came up to stroke my hair again.
I closed my eyes, feeling myself drifting toward unconsciousness. But as sleep pulled me under, one final thought surfaced in my mind with devastating clarity.
I wanted him to fuck me. Not tomorrow, not on some distant wedding night I could keep postponing. Now. I wanted to feel his cock pushing inside me, filling me, claiming me completely.
To my horror, it felt like a truth I’d been running from since the moment I knelt before him in our hotel room.
But I could never tell him. Could never admit that my body craved the very thing I’d been begging him not to do. The shame of it was too much to bear.
So I let sleep take me, holding that secret deep inside where Chris would never find it.
