Slap. Slap. Slap.
A broken sob mixed with a moan echoes in the air and I realize it’s mine as the orgasm threatens to hold me hostage.
“You’re dripping all over my hand and the carpet, baby. Maybe we should change the punishment method if you’re enjoying it a bit too much. Now, say one.”
I’m panting as I meet his gaze in the mirror, then slowly lower my head and shake it.
This time, the slaps go for so long that I think I’ll black out from the mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Fucking say it, Glyndon.”
“I wanted you,” I cry. “I don’t understand why, but I wanted you, you fucking bastard.”
“There.” His voice turns darker as he thrusts inside me slow but deep, and it’s enough to throw me over the edge.
My gasps and moans mix together in a symphony of pleasure, one that doesn’t come close to matching his own chaotic violence.
He’ll be the death of me.
Literally and figuratively.
“Don’t stop sketching, my little rabbit. Show me what those hands can make while you’re filled with my cock.”
I draw chaotically, with the same rhythm he’s fucking me. Deep, raw, and so out of control, I can hardly breathe.
Never would I have thought that sex could be this animalistic, this completely unhinged.
He’s ruined me for all sex.
I don’t think I’d ever be able to find pleasure if I wasn’t choked, thrown down, and properly claimed without me having a say in it.
I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy this with anyone but Killian.
Because as much as I hate to admit it, I trust him. He likes to hurt me, but he doesn’t want to break me.
He always said he wanted my fight, to dominate me, to hold me down and have his way with me, but he also gets off on me enjoying every second of it.
I’m about to come again, I feel it. I can taste in the air with every chopped-off inhale and exhale. My body is tuned to his, to how he spreads my legs farther and slides my wetness from where we’re joined to my back hole.
“What to do, baby? I think your ass is the one feeling left out now. We can’t let it miss the fun, no?”
A noise of pleasure is all I can release, because I’m about to fall again. Just when I’m on the edge, he pulls out.
My groan of frustration echoes in the air and the bastard has the audacity to chuckle. “Don’t be a greedy little rabbit. We’ve got to give your ass some love, too.”
He pushes me onto all fours, but I’m still holding the pencil on the paper. My core clenches when he parts my arse cheeks and slides two fingers inside. I bite my lip, used to this type of play whenever he’s pounding into me. Only, now, he adds a third finger and stretches my back hole until the overload of sensations tear me apart.
His other hand glides my arousal to my arse over and over until I’m writhing and bucking my hips. Just when I think I’ll come from how he’s stretching me, his fingers are gone.
“This may hurt.” His cock slides between my arse cheeks and he drives inside in one go.
I physically jerk forward with a groan, tears spilling on my sketch.
They’re relief tears, I realize. I most definitely am broken, because I’m utterly relieved that he didn’t take it easy.
And I’m flat out crying now due to the pain and the feeling of being so completely at his mercy that I can’t find a way out.
“Shh, relax. Don’t push me out.” He rolls his hips and does shallow thrusts that re-awaken my earlier arousal. I wiggle my hips, arching my back. “There, that’s my fucking girl.”