“Don’t thank me. You’re going to pay for it.”
His fingers moved down my waist and clamped over my bare, soaked pussy. I moaned and shifted on my feet, kicking off the jeans balled around my ankles as he stripped off my top. He tore his clothes off next, tossing them on the floor, exposing his broad chest, muscled legs, and enormous cock. When he pushed me down on the bed beside his suitcase, I welcomed his weight on top of me.
“Jesus. God. Open your fucking legs,” he said. “I need you right now.”
I loved to hear it, but I already knew. His body was hot and encompassing, and his thick cock poked between my pussy’s folds.
“Shit.” He reached to the side, going through his luggage to retrieve a box of condoms. He ripped it open, scattering the gold packages.
“You don’t have to wear one,” I said. “We’ve already gone without, and I can’t get pregnant.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded and he swatted his suitcase to the floor, condoms and all. He grabbed my wrists and I made a noise of complaint, fighting him because it turned me on. “Let me fuck you,” he said. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”
“Yes,” I cried, caught up in his force, his intent tone. “Yes, yes, please. Fuck me so hard it hurts.”
“There’s no other way to give it to someone like you. Lie back, you little slut.” He nudged me toward the pillows and held my hands over my head, pressing them against the padded headboard. My nails slid across the upholstery and my whole body came alive from his weight and force. I could feel his muscles tensing against my belly and chest.
“Oh God. Oh my God.” Over the past two years, in Italy, I’d mostly slept with other scientists—evolved nerds who were polite and deferent, who’d attracted me with some particularly insightful research hypothesis. They were way too polite for me in bed. When I’d wanted BDSM and pain play, I’d gone to Via Sofferenza and played with the locals, but rarely had I enjoyed sex and force together, not until Devin came into my life.
I needed both things now, with my sore ass hurting and my heart full of happiness that he was here, that he’d stayed. He let go of my wrists and reared back, forcing my legs even farther apart. Even without my glasses, I could see his magnificent cock standing up between us. He shoved a finger in my pussy, then slapped me between the legs. I moaned at the stinging pain, hating it, but loving it.
“You’re a sick little maso, aren’t you?” He smiled down at me. “You just got your ass beat, and you’re wet as all fuck.”
He spanked my pussy again, making my clit flare with heat as I stared up at him. He pressed two fingers in me, then three, then withdrew and positioned his cock at my entrance. My flailing legs were grasped, my ankles hiked over his shoulders, and then he surged into me, filling me with his oversized shaft. The stretch and sensation was delicious, raw and affirming in the aftermath of the hard belt session.
Tears leaked from my eyes, but I ignored them, losing myself in rough, active sex. He pounded me, holding my hips, making me take him deep while he whispered that I felt so good, so good. I couldn’t say anything. I reached for him and he collected my wrists, cinching them in one of his hands. A moment later, he growled and pulled out of me.
“Turn around,” he said. “I want to take you from behind.”
I fell sideways, losing my balance on the cushy hotel bed. He held my waist until I steadied myself, then grasped my hands and placed them on top of the headboard. When he had me posed the way he wanted, facing the headboard on my knees, he forced my thighs wider. When I arched my hips back, seeking his cock, wanting him to fuck me some more, he slapped my sore ass.
“I take you, you don’t take me. Understand?” Smack. Smack. “You’ll get my cock when I’m ready.”
Both cheeks sung with scarlet pain as I cried out, “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”
“Hold onto the headboard and keep your legs apart,” he ordered.
I maintained my position as he shoved his cock into my pussy. I didn’t think about why this was so exciting to me, why I liked to be posed and scolded and spanked, and forced to accommodate the hard thrusts of a thicker-than-normal cock. All I knew was that I was already close to coming, and I didn’t want this to end just yet.
“Oww, ow!” I squealed as he pinched my nipples.
“Oh, does that hurt?” he mocked. “If you don’t keep your voice down, I’ll hurt them worse.”
He made good on his promise, twisting and pinching my hard buds as I struggled to be quiet, to keep the moans of pain inside. I braced my legs so his pounding wouldn’t force me against the headboard, but there was no escaping his onslaught. The more I squirmed and resisted, the harder he held my hips and fucked me, lifting my knees from the bed. I made sounds I’d never made before, strangled pleas, mumbled expletives that ran into each other. The words I choked out always ended with a whimper of harder, or more, please, more…
One of his hands left my breasts and slid to my pussy, slapping, probing through my folds, slapping again so my hips jerked back and forth. My fingers gripped the headboard, a white-knuckled clench, as the sustained pain triggered an orgasmic release. I pulsed around his cock, letting out a sob as he continued slapping my pussy, chanting yes, yes, yes.
He climaxed a moment later, even more violently. His arms locked around my waist as he surged into me, then he went still with a drawn-out groan. His fingers pressed into my skin, supporting me so I didn’t collapse, so I could let go of the headboard and touch him too. He put his stubbled cheek against mine and spoke in the low, sensual voice I remembered from Via Sofferenza. “That’s what you get, you naughty, bad girl.”
I gave a soft laugh-sob, turning my head. “Was that a punishment?”
“It was fun-ishment. But I can do punishment, too.”
I wiggled my ass against his hips. “I imagine so. I don’t think I’ve ever been spanked that hard.”
“Well, you should have been. And you will be again.” His tone made me shiver.
Then he paused and turned me to face him. “Unless you don’t want to be. Things between us have been moving…a little fast.”
I couldn’t read his expression, but I could hear the caution in his voice. “A little fast,” I agreed. “But it’s the circumstances.” I reached over to pick up my glasses and put them on. “I told you, you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to latch onto you because we’ve had some incredible sex.”
“I never said you would.”
“Because, you know, all of this is crazy and weird and—”
“And hot.” He pulled me down on the bed and stretched beside me. “You sure you don’t want to fall in love with me? I’m rich and handsome, and good in bed.”
“I’m sure.” I thought of my father’s drawn, pallid face as he wept at my mother’s funeral. I’d never seen a man cry before then, not like that, but my father had cried many times after. “Love can be a horribly destructive force,” I said. “Way worse than hard fucking, or a belt spanking.”
A shadow passed over his face. “That’s true. We can stay friends, though.” His expression brightened as he ran a finger up my breast and flicked my nipple. “We should keep playing together while you’re in New York.”
I turned on my side, trying not to give away how much that invitation interested me. “Sure, we can keep playing.”
“Try not to sound so excited about it,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
“No, I mean, I enjoy playing with you. I want to check out your super sexy club in that clock tower, but…” I adjusted my glasses, retreating to my astrophysicist worldview, because it soothed me when life felt ruffled, and no one ruffled me more than him. “At the end of the day, it all seems so meaningless, you know? BDSM and power exchange, and relationships, and love, and whatever people do together. It seems pointless when I think about the vastness of the universe, and the slippability of life.”
“Slippability?”
“It’s not a great word. But you know what I mean.” I
ran my thumbs across my fingers, then opened my hands, trying to capture how nothing really stayed, or even really was. “There’s nothing in life we can control, and things change all the time, everywhere.”
“So…?” He looked amused, rather than concerned.
“So…that’s one of the reasons I prefer not to do relationships.”
“Okay,” he said, laughing. “You’ve got that point across. No strings attached, I get it.” He touched my hair, then gave it a yank. “I’m not a one-woman man either, Shorty, so don’t stress too hard about capturing my heart.”