“I want you to spank me,” My head drops, “and then I want you to fuck me.”
The words taste like surrender. Like defeat and victory all at once.
There’s no pretending anymore. I choose this.
His smile is triumphant, male ego at its peak, but he doesn’t rub it in my face.
“Good,” is all he says. “Me too.”
Even though I’m expecting it, the next smack of his hand sends a shockwave through my body, one that ends right between my legs. I moan, the sound starving. Greedy.
“You like that, don’t you?” His hand is on my pussy, sliding through the heat testing it as if he’s measuring results.
“Mmm,” I murmur, already aching for more.
He sets a pattern, striking each ass cheek one after another, hard enough to burn but not enough to bruise, then rubbing between my legs, over my clit, driving his fingers into me and pumping hard, then back to my ass. Over and over, he does it until the orgasm builds in me like electricity flowing from a socket, until I’m convinced my hair must be standing on end. I grind against him, the motions jerky and frantic letting him know I’m close.
“Yeah. That’s it,” he pants along with me, his erection jabs into my ribs and I rub against it too, wanting him to be as turned on as I am.
“I want you to come,” Carrson says, “So hard now, all over my hand so I can fuck you while you’re dripping.”
Those words, the image of that, sends me right over the edge. He slaps me two more times, shoves into me with his fingers and I detonate, screaming and spasming around him. He’s still pushing his fingers into me when I hear the sound of his zipper. Carrson moves me to the side, keeping me on my stomach, then he pulls my butt up so I’m on my knees and bent elbows. I rest my forehead on my hands, bound by the whip. The rope circles over each wrist and I stare at it, a memory tickling but before I can grab it Carrson’s behind me. He kneels and with a single thrust of his hips, drives into me, all the way, going deep.
We both groan. He shoves my shirt up and leans forward to place a kiss on the bare skin of my back. Then slams into me again. “How,” he cries out, the word garbled as his hands clamp on my hips. He pulls me close, then pushes me away, rough, relentless. “How do you feel like this?” he says. “Like you were made for me. Fit so damn good—” His voice breaks, frays. “I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to be out of you.”
“Yes. Oh fuck, Carrson,” I cry out his name, meeting him thrust for thrust. I’m already on the brink of another orgasm. It hits me fast and hard. Comes screaming out of me. I shout as it crests, my muscles shaking from the force. Carrson grunts behind me and I think he’ll come too but instead he pulls out and flips me into my back. He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, as he pushes back into me.
“Give me another one,” he demands, setting a brutal pace.
“No,” I whip my head, tears of exertion slip from the corners of my eyes. “I can’t.”
My shirt is shoved up, and Carrson pushes my bra with it until it bands across my upper chest. His mouth comes to my breast. He licks, sucks on my nipple, then bites the rounded flesh above it. I cry out at the pinch of his teeth, not because it hurts, but because it makes me feel.
Hemakes me feel,somuch. Everything.
I thought I died with my sister but Carrson,this, it brings me roaring back.
“I’m going to put marks all over you,” he grunts into my skin. “Let everyone know you’re mine.” True to his words, he pulls out and trails his mouth over my body, kissing and biting. My ribs, belly, the inside of my thigh. “No one’s taking you from me.” His mouth traces my core, lands on my clit and stars explode over the backs of my eyelids.
I whisper his name, my voice barely a scratch. I yelled myself hoarse the last time I came. He hears me anyway, lifts his head from between my legs.
“Let me touch you,” I beg, all inhibitions gone. “Please.”
He hesitates and I see it all, fear, sorrow, rage, long buried and now dragged to the surface. Carrson drops his head back and kisses my clit, sending a pulse of pleasure deep inside me, then crawls up my body and unties my hands.
“Careful,”he says.
Is he warning me, so he doesn’t hurt me?
Or asking me to be gentle with him, because this is hard on him?
I’ll do both.
I nod, keeping eye contact and slowly bring one hand to slide through his hair. He sighs, the sound coming from deep in his chest. Then he’s back pushing into me, less frantic now, gentler. I let my hands drop to his shoulders. His muscles shift, tense and then relax, under my palms. Once he’s sure I won’t move anymore, he closes his eyes and fucks me slowly. Almost tenderly. Long glides out until I almost lose him, then deep thrusts back in, maintaining the same pace in both directions, like he’s trying to make it last.
I readjust my grip on his shoulders, holding on when he moves faster, his body unraveling right along with mine. I’d told him I couldn’t come again but that was a lie because the next orgasm comes from nowhere. It’s just there, bright and sudden and overwhelming in the best way. I break against him with a sob of pleasure and Carrson falls with me, a strangled sound coming from him as he spasms deep in me, like his soul is trying to exit his body to fuse with mine.
We move for a few seconds more, then he collapses on top of me. I wrap my arms around his back, and bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. Sweat and the smell of the forest, as if he’s a part of it. I close my eyes, rest my head against him.
