Fuck!

My ass is on fire. I've never felt anything like this before. But even so, I refuse to use my safe word. If I do, I'm afraid he’ll stop. Not just the punishment—I'm ready for that to stop—but what's coming next. I need Victor inside me. I've never been more turned on in my entire life.

I wait for the next strike. How many have there been? I don't know. The cabin echoes with our breaths, my whimpers, and the sound of my blood rushing through my veins. I try to breathe, but my nose is running and my lungs won't work. There are so many sensations, but all I concentrate on is keeping my position and repeating my gratitude, even though my arms and legs are shaking.

When another strike doesn't happen, I wonder if it's over. Did I do it? Did I survive my Sir's punishment? Can I collapse? I want to collapse.

The paddle hits the ground, its sound the final bell letting me know I made it. I gasp as Victor spreads my overly sensitive ass cheeks and his tongue laps at my core. Despite the pain from him holding me, I can't contain the groan as I push my ass toward him, wanting his tongue deeper. After the punishment he delivered, I can't comprehend words adequate to describe the pleasure his tongue is giving me. My knees and elbows shake as he licks and laps at my essence.

“Roll over.”

His deep voice is all I hear.

My body and mind are no longer connected, but are two separate entities.

My mind is saying that this is wrong. It's telling me to scream my safe word—husband—and make it all end. My body, however, is strung tighter than it's ever been. My insides have never felt as empty, never needed a man more than I need Victor Cross, and never been this wet or wanting.

My body wins as I fumble for the binding holding my wrists and turn, rolling onto my back.

“Shit,” I mumble as my ass hits the comforter, the rough material biting into my freshly punished skin. Why wasn't I honest? He told me to be honest. The bed shifts with his weight.

“Open your eyes.”

I hadn't even realized they were closed when I open them. Right in front of me, kneeling between my unashamedly spread legs, is Victor. The length of his cock is in his hand as he strokes the tightly stretched skin. The tip shines with pre-cum, and I imagine sucking it with my lips, bringing him pleasure, more than he could have had with that gag.

“Tell me, kitten, what do you want?”

“Your cock, Sir.” The words come too easily. I lift my knees higher, giving him my pussy, presenting it to him. It's his and after this, it always will be.

Leaning toward me, his weight on his forearms on either side of my face, Victor stares deep into my eyes, silently daring me to speak, to say my safe word.

I can't.

I can't do anything but look back into his dark eyes, and then I remember to look away, to submit to his desire. When I do, when my lids lower in reverence to this man, a moan comes from my throat. More sounds that I've never heard spill from my lips as Sir enters me, filling me, stretching me. It's for his pleasure, but it's mine too. With each thrust he pushes me toward the headboard. I try to lift my throbbing ass, but I can't, not with the way he's taking me, ravaging me, ruthlessly pounding into me. The pain and pleasure mount, piling one on top of the other as energy flows through me, curling my toes and causing my fingernails to bite into the palms of my hands. After only a few deep and savage thrusts, my body comes undone.

Fireworks ignite behind my partially closed eyes. I scream, but I don't know what I'm saying. The world is out of kilter, or maybe it's finally right. Victor doesn't stop or even slow to allow me to enjoy the downside of my orgasm. He continues to fuck, brutally pounding. He isn't pleasing me, though I've never been so pleased. This is about him, about his pleasure. The realization propels me back up the figurative mountain until my body tenses and we both come undone.

He grunts as he fills me with his seed, over and over, combining it with my essence until I’m overflowing. It doesn’t end there. He turns me, twisting me in positions I’ve never known. Each time, his cock finds the exact spot to send me over the edge. I don't know how many times he uses me, how many times I come, or even how many ways. But by the time I fall asleep, I know without a doubt that he's marked me in a way I've never been marked. I know I can't go back to what I had before.

When I wake, my arms are no longer bound. Instead, I'm draped over Victor, or the man I now call Sir. I'm not sure I can ever call him Master, but I never thought Sir would be in my vocabulary either. My cheek is lying upon his solid chest, and his strong arm is wrapped protectively around my shoulder. Despite the aches throughout my body, I've never felt more satisfied or safer than I do at this moment.

I raise my head, push my hair away, and look at his features. His narrow nose, chiseled jaw with a day's beard growth. How had I not noticed how handsome he is?

His dark brown eyes open and a slight grin comes to his lips. I lower my lids, knowing that seeing him smile fills me with relief and delight I never imagined. I want him to be happy.

“Good morning, kitten.”

His voice is like thunder on my newly awakened ears. It rumbles through me, bringing my nervous system back to life with a jolt of lightning. I start to pull away, not because I want to, but because my bladder is full.

Sir’s large hand grasps my arm, stopping my escape.

It’s then I realize that I didn’t answer. “Good morning, Sir.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His menacing tone and tightening grip have my body on a virtual treadmill. I’m running a six-minute mile. My heart rate accelerates as my skin peppers with goose flesh from the flood of heat within.

I look up. “I-I was...” Again, my lids lower and I let out a breath. “Sir, may I use the bathroom?”

He releases my arm and slaps my tender ass. “Hurry, and no pleasuring yourself. If you do, I won't do it when you get back.”

My cheeks heat and rise as I scurry to the edge of the bed. This is all so new and so different. When was the last time I asked permission for something so basic?

As I walk, my entire body aches with the aftereffects of his punishment and the multiple rounds of fucking. I'm not sure which one caused the most ache. All I know is that the more he gives, the more I want—of either, of both.

When I make my way out of the bathroom, my steps stutter as I take him in. He’s so sexy, lying there. The sheet has moved, and his erection is standing at attention, his large hand moving slowly up and down his hard rod. As if he heard me, his dark eyes turn and drink me in. They’re commanding me silently, telling me without words that I’m his. I take one step.

“No, crawl to me.”

I don’t hesitate as I drop to my hands and knees. The worn wood floor is smooth yet gritty as I move closer. Each movement taking me closer floods my core anew.

As I reach the side of the bed, my eyes are down. I want nothing more than to see him, to watch him as he does what he forbade me from doing.

The thunder rolls. “Kitten, do you want to stay down there on the floor?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then get your ass up here.”

I quickly climb onto the bed and hurry along the length of the mattress until I’m beside him.

Our gazes meet. Without a word Sir pulls me over him as if I’m as light as air and moves me so I'm straddling his torso. “I want your ass,” he says, “but first, I want to watch you fuck me.”

“Isn't that topping from the bottom?”

I jump as he swats my sore behind again. “It's not when I tell you to do it. Now, kitten, get on my cock and start moving. I want to watch your tits swing and feel your cunt strangle my dick.”

My body electrifies at his voice, his words, and his commands. Lifting myself on my knees, I grasp his cock beneath me; my thumb and middle finger are unable to touch as I hold his girth. Lining the tip up with my entrance, I slowly begin to slide down, but before I can, Sir grabs my hips and roughly pulls me toward him.

“Shit,” I say as I adjust to his size.

“Kitten, you're so fucking wet, I just slid right into your tight pussy.”

I lower my eyes, knowing he is right.

He crosses his arms behind his head and grins. The muscles in his biceps become more defined as his cheeks rise. The view takes my breath away as his gaze devours me.

“Fuck me, kitten. When you're done, I'll let you cook me breakfast. If you make me come, I may even let you eat.”

Tingles radiate from my head to my toes as my knees begin to flex. The friction is phenomenal, but that isn't my goal. I don't concentrate on climbing my mountain. My only goal is assuring that he's satisfied. It's not because I'm worried about food—I know he won't let me starve. I want him to come because I want to please him more than I want sustenance.

It isn't until his back arches and neck strains that I let myself feel the burn. As he grips my hips again, I know we're going to come together. It's when he roars that I let loose, my insides milking his cock, encouraging his release, and wanting every last drop.