MARY
He’s fucking me. I’m fucking him. Did I do something right? Or something wrong? I don’t even know. I gave up. I know that much. I gave up trying to control what became of me and in that same moment, he came to me hard and fast and he swept me off my feet and now he is stretching my pussy wide.
I can feel my breasts pressed against the cool floor, my clit exposed by the ragged tear in my suit to grind against the hard surface.
His words make my pussy clench. Tears mist my eyes. I missed him so fucking much. Every night I wished he was with me. Every time we were together it was all I could do not to throw myself at his feet and just beg for forgiveness.
And now I’m on the floor, my cunt sliding in my own juices as he fucks me against the ground, his hard hips slapping my already punished ass with hard strokes.
This is rough and primal. His arm snakes around under my neck and he holds me in position, sinking his thick cock inside me over and over again. Somehow every time it goes in, it feels even bigger and harder than it did the time before.
He shouldn’t be doing this. But he is, and I can feel the reason. Because he can’t wait another fucking minute for me, just like I couldn’t stand another second without him.
We make frantic, passionate love, the kind where the only thing that matters is that he is inside me. He pulls out, flips me onto my back and thrusts inside me all over again, his hands wrapped in my hair, his mouth on mine.
“Forgive me,” I moan between thrusts.
“You’re forgiven,” he growls. “You’re so fucking forgiven.”
He hikes my legs up around his waist and I wrap them around him, clinging to him as he pounds me. We kiss, embrace, grind, we are lost to everything but one another until orgasm frees us and leaves us lying spent on the floor.
“ARES!”
A voice comes over the speaker I didn’t know was in the room. Ken lets out a little groan and helps me to stand, tucking his cock away once I’m on my feet.
“YOU BETTER GET THAT FLOOR MOPPED!”
We look at each other, and I do the other thing I haven’t done in two months: I laugh.
“Shit,” he says. “I’m going to get some heat for that. Worth it though.”
He pulls me tight against his body and I sink into his embrace, feel his strength. I hear the beating of his heart. I thought he’d abandoned me emotionally, but he never went anywhere. He stayed right by my side and he did what needed to be done, even though I hated him for it.
I lean my head against his shoulder. “I am so sorry,” I murmur. “I’ve ruined everything for you.”
“You’ve ruined nothing,” he says gruffly. “You needed what you needed.”
“I needed to be locked up and chased around with a cane naked for two months?”
“You needed to be broken down,” he says, his arms cradling me close, one hand sliding down over my hip to rub my hot, bare ass. “So we can build you up. Real trust this time. Real truth. No lies. Nothing hidden.”
“Nothing hidden,” I repeat, feeling lighter than ever before. It’s true, I realize. There is now nothing hidden between us. I have shown him my scars, my sadness, my hate, my fear. He has seen it all and it has not changed a thing. He is here for me, guiding me, disciplining me, making me the best I can be.
“I love you,” I say. “Even if I hate you sometimes.”
He smiles down at me. “Oh I’m sure you’ll continue to hate me sometimes,” he says. “But at least now you’ll know that I love you too.”