The agony somehow blended with pleasure. It was almost addictive. It was an exquisite ache, my veins burning with fire and lust. My wetness coated the inside of my thighs.
This was real punishment.
It hurt so bad.
It hurt so good.
I lost count how many times Killian peppered my ass with the hairbrush. But soon enough, I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel.
And so, I did.
I sobbed as the pain racked through my body, then followed by the sweet ache of pleasure. My climax slithered through my veins and I grew closer to the peak, dangling over the edge – waiting for his permission to fall.
My vision grew dazed, my mind somehow drowsy and my eyes fluttered closed. This was everything I craved, everything I needed.
Somewhere in the background, I heard something hit the ground and then my husband was on me. Covering my body with his own. Mounting me like a stallion that wanted to breed his mare.
His erection brushed over my sensitive flesh between the juncture of my thighs, stabbing at my opening, but not yet breaching me.
“My sweet masochistic wife,” Killian growled in my ear. There was unmistakeable pride in his voice and I reveled in it.
I had been chasing an unknown release for so long, not knowing that this was exactly what I needed. I found salvation here, on my hands and knees. In Killian’s arms.
His hand wrapped around his belt and he pulled my head back, forcing my body into an arch. His grunt was the only warning I got before Killian rammed inside the tight sheath of my sex. One forceful thrust.
“Julianna.” My name rolled over his tongue, like a silent prayer.
My lips parted with a silent scream and my climax rushed through me. I shuddered with how intense my orgasm was. My knees weakened and I slumped over. Killian had me pinned under his body as he pounded inside me like a savage beast. No longer composed or contained.
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
His fingers dug almost painfully into my hips and I knew that would bruise tomorrow. My husband manipulated my body, forcing another orgasm from me. My breath caught and my eyes blurred as my second climax hit me. Fast and heavy.
The sound of two bodies colliding together echoed through the walls of his room.
His grunts; my moans.
His groans, my whimpers.
Killian came with a loud grunt, buried to the hilt, before he slumped over me.
Chest heaving and our sweaty bodies entangled together…
I had never felt safer or more desired, than in this moment.
I found beauty in pain. Pleasure in agony. And salvation in my husband’s brutal yet exquisite touch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Julianna
Two weeks later
“You’re making me uncomfortable. Can you step back, please?” I said to the guy, who was around my age, as he crowded into my personal space. His breath reeked of alcohol and I grimaced.
The house was loud and bustling with drunk young adults. Why did I convince my sister to come to this party? It was a bad idea and the moment I stepped through the door, I knew I was going to hate it. It was too loud and the smell of sweat and alcohol was heavy in the air.
It unsettled me.
“Oh c’mon,” he croaked, his fingers brushing over my stomach. “You’ve been eyeing me. Don’t play hard to get.”
Eyeing him? When? I didn’t know who he was and I didn’t even remember looking at him. Fear slithered through my veins and I pushed at his chest, but he barely even moved.
My breath hitched and my heart slammed into my throat when his hand slid under my shirt, over my bare skin. “No! Let me go, right now.”
He snarled in response, his face hardening at my refusal to succumb to his invasive touches. He slammed my body into the wall, the back of my head knocking against it. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred.
I felt wet lips against my throat and that was when it happened.
He was wrenched away from me and Gracelynn stepped in front of me, shielding my body with her own. My eyes widened when my sister reared back and then her fist met his face. I heard the sound of bones breaking and he howled.
“She said to let go, loser. What the hell. No is no,” she hissed. The guy was sprawled on the floor. He let out a pained groan before his eyes rolled back into his head.
At the commotion, the crowd turned their attention on us and my knees weakened. Gracelynn grasped me by the elbow, pulling me through the sweaty bodies. The moment we stepped out of the loud house and we were hit with fresh air, I could finally breathe again.
“Shit,” my sister grunted, shaking her right hand. “I think I broke my hand. Oh shit, it hurts.”
“What?” I gasped, gently reaching for her, so I could take a look. It was red, but quickly turning into a purple shade and her hand was already swelling. “Oh no. This doesn’t look good. I’m so sorry.”