We got up to ten when it started getting unbearable. I’d been holding my tears back, desperately trying not to let myself cry. I was convinced it was a sign of weakness, that Thorn would fucking hate it.
He leaned against me, his mouth hot against my already bruising skin. He kissed the spot he’d been hitting over and over, a special kind of torture that felt incredible.
“You smell like roses,” he muttered against my skin. “Fucking perfect, just like you always are…”
I mewled for him as he parted my ass, and squirmed when I felt his tongue exploring me. He licked my pussy in long, luxurious licks, making me cry out for him in absolute desperation. I’d figured out for myself moans were okay, but the moment I said a word, I would be punished again. And I still had ten slaps to go… I didn’t want to add to that number.
I felt his tongue probing in my ass and I cried out.
“No!” I begged him.
“Ten more,” he whispered, and then he ate my ass out.
I cried at first, finally letting those tears fall, not because it hurt but because it felt so fucking filthy yet at the same time incredible.
I bit my tongue so hard it bled just so I would stop the words from coming. Thorn started hitting me again and I counted five more while he ate my ass out, making me desperate to come.
“Halfway there,” he told me, moving away from me.
The next slap was the hardest he’d given me, the sound of it echoing in the room.
I was in tears, and I whispered the word ‘sixteen’ tasting tears in my mouth. I felt helpless and so fucking ready for more I could’ve torn those restraints just to feel him come inside me.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
“Ten more,” he said roughly.
“I don’t give a shit,” I said hotly. “Hit me as many times as you want. As many times as you need. Just fuck me.”
He groaned, and I heard him unbuckling as the paddle kept hitting me and I kept counting like a woman possessed. And then, mercifully, his cock filled me to the very rim, and I felt him throbbing inside me, a sensation so powerful I couldn’t stop crying out his name.
He treated me like a cheap little whore and I couldn’t get enough of it. The thrusts kept coming and so did the spankings, until my ass was so raw I could’ve cried just from having him blow on it.
But I perservered. I didn’t once beg him to stop. I took what he doled out and counted until we were up to thirty-five. Then, the tears became too much and I dissolved into sobs while he tossed the paddle away.
My restraints were undone while I sobbed. He turned me on my side, knowing I wouldn’t be able to sit on my ass for days from the bruises. And then he fucked me like that, his fingers buried in my hair and his breath cool against my ear as he told me I was only his. His little bitch. His pretty whore. All the things I so desperately wanted to hear.
I felt my orgasm building. I’d been holding it back for so long, but now there was no going back from it. It ripped through my body recklessly, and I cried while I came on his cock, sending him into a frenzy that made him fuck me harder than ever.
The pain was unbearable and oh so delicious. Not just my bruised ass but his demanding cock inside me. It was all I wanted, all I needed. I came so many times I lost count, and the tears blurred my vision.
When I was nothing but a whimpering mess, he pulled out of me and gently helped me to my feet. He made me stare into his eyes and I greedily drank him down when he came, every drop and every lick making him groan louder.
When he was done, he buckled his belt back in place and carried me to my room in nothing but my heels.
We slept together, and I woke up in his arms. My bruises took days to heal, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I told him as much, and he whispered how much he loved me in my ear. I was happy. Blissfully so.
Of course, all good things come to an end eventually…
Thirteen
Carina
My plan was falling into place, and slowly, I was putting the puzzle pieces together. Poor little Harlow would never know what hit her.
She was a sacrifice I had to make, even though I didn’t particularly want to. We had been friends before, not enemies. Yes, there was a healthy dose of competitiveness between us, but we were still fond of one another. But now it had all evaporated, replaced with bitter jealousy and the belief that she’d gotten something that should have been mine all along.