closed her eyes and began counting, arching her back in one breath and tucking under in the next, not knowing whether she wanted him to stop or to beat her harder. Although the sound and the crop’s bite didn’t fade away, she found a peace in the rhythm and her body relaxed, taking her punishment and almost relishing in the pain.
When he stopped, it was as instant and with as little ceremony as when he’d begun. She opened her eyes, her bottom throbbing, on fire.
He dropped the crop to the floor. She lifted her head from the bed and waited, suddenly aware of the heat inside her pussy. She wanted him to pound into her with the same force he’d used to punish her; she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
“Seven,” he said from behind her.
She listened to the sound of him undressing, then that of a condom being unwrapped.
“Seven strokes before you cried,” he finished.
His naked thighs pressed against the backs of hers and she stiffened, sucking in a breath. But the next sensation, that of his fingers pushing into her pussy, made her muscles clench, the pain of her punished bottom mixing with pure need.
“Now,” he said, withdrawing those fingers and sliding them upwards. “I’ll take what I wanted yesterday,” he said, his fingers rubbing her juices over her asshole.
She moaned when he next applied a spicy lubricant. “It burns,” she said, but she enjoyed the sensation, the burning inside and out as his finger prepared her passage, first one, then two and soon, the head of his cock.
“I’m going to fuck your ass now, Emma. And you’re going to take it, you’re going to let me fuck your ass and you’re not going to come until I tell you. Do you understand?”
“Yes…Master,” she begged, the thick head stretching her well-lubricated asshole, hurting her. But all she wanted was more. “Fuck me,” she said, arching her back.
“Push against my cock.” She did. “Good girl, just like that. Oh fuck, yes, just like that. Give me your tight little asshole,” he said. He filled her, then retreated, again and again, slowly claiming inch after inch. It hurt and it felt so good. Her muscles were already tensing around his thick cock and she wanted to come so badly.
“Let me come,” she begged.
“I knew you’d like this,” he said, making a sound as he pushed once, harder than he had before. “I’m in Emma, I’m all the way in,” he said, slowly pulling out and pressing in again, just as slowly. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want…aahhh, fuck me, Master. Fuck me hard. Please, I need it.”
“Good girl,” he said, drawing almost all the way out. “You can come, as many times as you like,” he said, and he thrust his cock deep and fast in and out of her asshole.
“Master,” she called out even while her body lurched forward and she cried out as orgasm took her, lost in a world of sensation, of pain and pleasure, of darkness and light. “Master.” And she knew, as another orgasm followed on the heels of the first and the second, that she loved this man. That he, Luke Roark, was her Master. It would only ever be him.
Chapter Ten
“I don’t want a bath,” she said. “It hurts.”
“You need a bath, Emma. Kneel,” he said, “I’ll wash you quickly and it probably feels better than sitting down.”
She knelt, her bottom and thighs throbbing and swollen. He ran warm water and, with the manual showerhead, washed her body and hair before shampooing. They didn’t speak while he worked, his hands, slippery with suds, sliding easily all over her.
“Lean forward,” he said.
She didn’t hesitate, putting her hands on the edge of the tub while he gently cleaned her most private parts. She trusted him; he was as sure of that as he was of the sun rising each morning. She trusted him enough to ask him to punish her.
“Are you sore here?” he asked, his finger hovering over her anus.
“A little.”
“And here?” he asked, his
When he stopped, it was as instant and with as little ceremony as when he’d begun. She opened her eyes, her bottom throbbing, on fire.
He dropped the crop to the floor. She lifted her head from the bed and waited, suddenly aware of the heat inside her pussy. She wanted him to pound into her with the same force he’d used to punish her; she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
“Seven,” he said from behind her.
She listened to the sound of him undressing, then that of a condom being unwrapped.
“Seven strokes before you cried,” he finished.
His naked thighs pressed against the backs of hers and she stiffened, sucking in a breath. But the next sensation, that of his fingers pushing into her pussy, made her muscles clench, the pain of her punished bottom mixing with pure need.
“Now,” he said, withdrawing those fingers and sliding them upwards. “I’ll take what I wanted yesterday,” he said, his fingers rubbing her juices over her asshole.
She moaned when he next applied a spicy lubricant. “It burns,” she said, but she enjoyed the sensation, the burning inside and out as his finger prepared her passage, first one, then two and soon, the head of his cock.
“I’m going to fuck your ass now, Emma. And you’re going to take it, you’re going to let me fuck your ass and you’re not going to come until I tell you. Do you understand?”
“Yes…Master,” she begged, the thick head stretching her well-lubricated asshole, hurting her. But all she wanted was more. “Fuck me,” she said, arching her back.
“Push against my cock.” She did. “Good girl, just like that. Oh fuck, yes, just like that. Give me your tight little asshole,” he said. He filled her, then retreated, again and again, slowly claiming inch after inch. It hurt and it felt so good. Her muscles were already tensing around his thick cock and she wanted to come so badly.
“Let me come,” she begged.
“I knew you’d like this,” he said, making a sound as he pushed once, harder than he had before. “I’m in Emma, I’m all the way in,” he said, slowly pulling out and pressing in again, just as slowly. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want…aahhh, fuck me, Master. Fuck me hard. Please, I need it.”
“Good girl,” he said, drawing almost all the way out. “You can come, as many times as you like,” he said, and he thrust his cock deep and fast in and out of her asshole.
“Master,” she called out even while her body lurched forward and she cried out as orgasm took her, lost in a world of sensation, of pain and pleasure, of darkness and light. “Master.” And she knew, as another orgasm followed on the heels of the first and the second, that she loved this man. That he, Luke Roark, was her Master. It would only ever be him.
Chapter Ten
“I don’t want a bath,” she said. “It hurts.”
“You need a bath, Emma. Kneel,” he said, “I’ll wash you quickly and it probably feels better than sitting down.”
She knelt, her bottom and thighs throbbing and swollen. He ran warm water and, with the manual showerhead, washed her body and hair before shampooing. They didn’t speak while he worked, his hands, slippery with suds, sliding easily all over her.
“Lean forward,” he said.
She didn’t hesitate, putting her hands on the edge of the tub while he gently cleaned her most private parts. She trusted him; he was as sure of that as he was of the sun rising each morning. She trusted him enough to ask him to punish her.
“Are you sore here?” he asked, his finger hovering over her anus.
“A little.”
“And here?” he asked, his
Similar Books
