Chapter Twelve
Brett
I’d been surprised to find Hannah wasn’t in bed after I’d spent an hour pummeling the bag. Finding her in the living room, nude and waiting in the position I’d commanded she take last week, I’d been floored. But to hear her words, to listen to her demand that I prove my commitment had filled me with a pride that I couldn’t measure. Not for myself, but for her. Her actions, her expression, her requests told me that she was as dedicated to our new vows as I was. Hell, she’d proven she was more determined as I had been ready to forego maintenance night altogether. But as she’d cried, bucked, wiggled, and pleaded through the punishment that had roasted her ass, she’d never once begged me to stop. With every sweep of my belt, she’d cried out, tugged on the ropes I’d used to keep her hands safe, but after every single one, she’d pushed her bottom up to receive the next bite of the leather.
Pressing my lips to hers, it was like we were starving for the touch of each other. Her hands roamed my back, pulling me to her as I plunged my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. When she captured it, sucking hard, I felt the jolt shoot through me to settle in my cock, which was already a steel rod. I took command, pulling my tongue free and taking a nip of her bottom lip as I pulled away. The sound of her mewl told me how much she needed this connection. But it was the look in her eyes that told me how very much she craved to be claimed.
I kissed along her neck, licked behind her ear, feeling her nipples attempt to bore through my chest. Drawing the tight bud into my mouth, I didn’t lick it gently. I suckled hard and then took it between my teeth and bit down.
“Oh, God!” she cried, her body jerking.
Pulling my head back elongated the sensitive flesh. When she arched up, attempting to relieve the pressure, I shook my head, the nipple captured in my teeth having no choice but to follow the movement. My right hand slapped her right breast… once, then again until she got the message and laid back. Only then did I release her left nipple, which was red and swollen, slick with my saliva and, I knew, tender from my bite.
She shuddered as I moved to her other breast, caught her bottom lip between her teeth, anticipating what was coming.
“Your tits belong to me, Hannah. They are mine and the only person to see them, touch them, kiss and bite these beautiful nipples is me.”
We both knew that she hadn’t offered her breast to that bastard, but I knew she needed to hear that I owned her. She’d learn that I owned every inch of her.
“Put your hands on the rail and keep them there,” I commanded. Once her fingers gripped the headboard slats, I lowered my head. Though she knew what was coming, knew the flare of pain to expect, her nipple was puckered into a tight little flower. A few swipes of my tongue had it glistening, a hard, deep suckle had it tightening further, and when I bit down, she cried out again. Lifting my eyes to hers, her flesh between my teeth, I gave her a silent warning as I began to draw back my head. The flesh pulled, and perhaps because she felt she deserved the additional pain, or maybe she craved it to wipe away the memory of another man’s touch, she again arched to relieve the strain. I’d used a cloth to wash her breasts in the shower. Now, I used my hand to slap at the rounded globe, causing it to wobble, her to cry out and yet she didn’t relax, didn’t yet surrender.
“More, please… more.”
I released the nipple in my mouth and sat back to straddle her hips. Her chest was heaving, her nipples red and swollen, a slight flush of color on each breast, but that wasn’t enough to free her.
“Ten each,” I said. “You are not to arch or roll. You will lie still, push up your breasts to receive each single stroke. Understand?”
“Ye… yes, sir.”
I slapped the outside of each breast, the sound not as loud as when I smacked her ass, but still sharp and followed by her soft moans. Again and again, I punished each one in an ever decreasing circle, my fingers leaving marks on flesh that had once been pale. With only two strokes left, I leaned forward, took her left nipple in my teeth again, pulling and biting until she was writhing. Releasing it, I gave it the final two slaps. Repeating the process on her right breast, she had tears in her eyes yet there was also a look of gratitude. Bending forward, I kissed her softly.
“Good girl. Spread your legs.”
My cock had been leaking pre-cum all throughout the process of punishing her breasts, her belly slick with the sticky fluid as I changed position to kneel between her splayed thighs that glistened with her own arousal. I ran my fingers up the seam of her sex, spreading her labia lips open, exposing the soft pink inner ones and watching as even more of her cream oozed out.
“This pussy belongs to me. I’m the only one who is allowed to touch it, to lick it, to kiss it, to fuck it. Not even you are allowed to touch without permission. You don’t come without asking. And, Hannah, you don’t ever again leave this house in a dress that has every man want to rip it off you.”
“I-I’m so sorry,” she said.
Again we both knew she hadn’t truly gone looking to hook up with anyone. But, again, that wasn’t what this moment was about. Though I’d wed her a year earlier, tonight I was staking a claim in a way that would leave no doubt that she belonged to one person—me. Sliding my finger up and down her sex, watching her clit swell even more, seeing it turn darker with the blood that was rushing to fill it, I could see it pulse with her heartbeat.
Gliding my fingers up to slowly circle it, I slid my eyes up to hers. “Keep your legs open. Keep your ass on the bed. Let these remind you that this”—I paused and cupped her entire sex, squeezing hard enough that she mewled loudly, one hand coming free to reach down, only to instantly return to the post as I gave her cunt a twist—“belongs to me. A dozen. The two extras are because you released the rail. Ready?”
“Ye-yes, sir.”
“Pull your knees up and plant your feet wide.”
The first slap drew nothing more than a quick inhalation of breath and a look of surprise. I hadn’t spanked her pussy, but her inner left thigh. Her right thigh immediately received its own slap.
“I said wide, Hannah. I want every inch of your cunt displayed before I spank it.”
Her feet moved until her thighs shook a bit with the strain, but she’d opened herself beautifully.
“Good girl.”
This time, the first slap earned the sound of her cry and a jerk of her hips as her knees bent inward. Shaking my head, I said, “Who owns this pussy, Hannah?”
“You… you do, sir.”
“Who has the right to fuck it or spank it?”
“You, sir.”
“Then get those legs open and do not attempt to keep me from what is mine.” I purposefully barked out the command and she instantly obeyed.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Prove it by counting each stroke and asking for the next.” I slapped her sex, the sound followed by her voice.
“One, may I have another, sir?”
Again and again, I granted her request, watching as her cunt reddened, felt her flesh heating, saw her clit swell larger than I’d ever seen it before. Her thighs trembled, her toes dug into the quilt, her belly quivered, but every single slap was followed by the correct count and her request for another. When the last of the dozen was delivered, she changed the mantra.
“Twelve. Than-thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, not having missed the fact that even while being punished, her sex never once stopped leaking its cream… like it was doing its own weeping. Planting my hands on either side of her hips, I pushed into her, my entry easy with her copious wetness, allowing me to bury my entire length to the hilt in one thrust. I withdrew completely, then pushed deep again. Pulling out, I moved up her body, sitting on the breasts I’d punished.
Her eyes were wide, the look in them one of complete submission.
“What do you see?” I asked, my cock almost touching her chin.
“Your cock, sir.”
“What is it coated with?” I asked, my entire shaft coated with my wife’s essence.
“My… my cream.”
“No, Hannah. My cock is coated with the tears that your cunt wept during its spanking. Tell me, are these tears of pain? Tears caused by my palm harming you?”
Her blonde head shook; her blue eyes shone. “No, sir. They are tears of gratitude. Tears of thanks for proving that I am yours, that my pussy belongs to you and you alone.”
That was exactly what I’d hoped to hear. Nodding, I bent to kiss her lips, not hard, but soft before sitting back again. “Who does your mouth belong to?”
“You, sir.”
“Who is the only person allowed to kiss it, to bite those swollen lips? Who is permitted to thrust inside with tongue or cock?”
“Only you, sir.”
“That’s right. Open.”
She opened her mouth and I guided my cock between those perfect, plump lips.
“Suck off your tears and know that you are mine.”
Her lips closed around my shaft and her tongue obeyed the command. Her cheeks hollowed with each suckle. I pushed further, nudging against the back of her throat. She gagged but didn’t open her lips. They tightened instead and her tongue flicked and licked. I pulled back enough to allow her to drag a deep breath in through her nose.
“Every inch,” I instructed and drove deep, forcing my cockhead into her throat until her lips met the root of my shaft. It felt heavenly. “I own this mouth. I own this throat.” Watching her closely, I saw the moment she began to panic. “I own your very breath.” I held for another few seconds, and then pulled free. She gasped, her chest struggling beneath my ass to rise as she drew in oxygen to replace what had been deprived when I’d deep-throated her.
“Tha-thank you, sir,” she said once she’d regained her breath.
“You’re welcome,” I said, giving her another kiss before once again moving down her body. My cock complained about being kept from the release it so craved, but I had no plans to come in her cunt or her mouth. She’d asked to be claimed, for me to take every single inch of her, and I was going to honor that request.
There was a definite wet spot beneath her pussy that made me smile. Her body might tremble, she might gag, but she was loving every slap, swat, bite, kiss, and suckle. She whimpered as I ran my fingers up and down her sex, lifting her hips when I refused to touch her clit.
“Get that ass down,” I said, my fingers stilling. “I want you to feel every welt you earned. Grind it against the mattress.”
She whimpered but lowered her hips and shifted her bottom from side to side.
“Do you feel them, Hannah?”
“Ye-yes, sir.”
“Do you know why your ass bears those marks?” When she stopped moving, I took her hips in my hands, pressed her down and then moved her body, scraping her ass along the sheets.
“Oh… God… be… because I was naughty, sir.”
Releasing her hips, I slid my hands beneath her, easily finding a welt and scraping my nails across the bump. She groaned but didn’t attempt to move away. “Yes, but give me another reason. Tell me why I’ve branded your ass with my belt.”
“Because my ass belongs to you, sir. Only to you.”
“That’s right. I’m the only person who can make your buttocks jiggle and bounce with every swat of my hand. I’m the only person who can watch it depress, turn white and then red with a paddle or your hairbrush. I’m the only one who can watch it clench in anticipation of knowing that I’m the man who will light it on fire with my belt and watch every single welt rise and swell from each kiss of leather.”
She was breathing hard, her arms shaking with the effort it took to keep her hands where they’d been instructed. Still clutching and squeezing her bottom that I knew still burned and throbbed, I bent forward to speak a fraction of an inch away from lips that were trembling.
“And, Hannah, I am the only man who will bury my cock in your ass and fill it with my cum.”
Her eyes widened, her breath hitched, but she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Pulling my hands free, I moved off of her. “Turn over. Hands and knees. Chest and face down and that well-striped ass up. Legs wide and reach back and spread your hot cheeks apart. Show me where I’m going to claim you.”
As she obeyed, I reached into my nightstand drawer and removed the bottle of lubricant. Settling back, my ass on my heels, I slowly applied the emollient to every inch of my cock, squeezing the base to remind it that I was not ready to release despite my need.
“Wider, Hannah. I want to see every wrinkle of your pucker.”
After she pulled herself open further, I poured some of the lubricant down her cleft, watching it glide down to her anus. Her pucker was pink and quivered when the fluid hit it, the wrinkled skin turning a darker hue. I began to rub the lube around the rim, loving every shudder and soft mew. I’d waited a year for this moment. I’d been preparing her for a week, but knew it would still be an effort for her to accept my cock. I was far larger than the egg I’d pushed into her or the fingers I’d inserted. It would be an effort, but she’d take every single inch.
Sliding a finger into her, I rotated it, watching her pussy leak its own lubricant onto the sheet. I added another finger, and she gasped as I began to scissor them, stretching her resisting muscle. Applying a bit more lube, I made sure she was as prepared as possible, slick both inside and out. Flipping the top closed, I set the bottle on the mattress and moved up between her splayed legs. Fisting my cock at the base, I guided it to her entrance.
“Ask me for it, Hannah.”
“Please, sir.”
She squealed when I reached out and slapped two fingers into her cleft. “No, ask me properly. Tell me what you want, what you need.”
“Please, sir. Please show me that you own all of me. Please… fuck my ass.”
Pressing forward, I introduced my cock to her ass for the first time. I watched the skin of her anus stretch, the wrinkles smoothing, the flesh stretching to accept my cockhead. She cried out, my girth far more than she’d ever taken before. I stilled a moment, gritting my teeth as I waited for the muscles to surrender, to accept that they would be defeated. Once I felt the merest hint of relaxation, I pushed again, forcing the inner muscles to give. Her hands dropped, fingers clutching at the sheets.
“Who owns your ass?”
“You do, sir. God… it… it burns!”
“Let that burn remind you that every single inch of you belongs to me.” I wanted so badly to plunge inside but I forced myself to go slow. She whimpered, she gasped, she cried out with every inch, but her ass swallowed my entire shaft. My balls slapped against her flesh as I paused again once I was buried to the hilt.
Holding onto her hips, I bent forward, the heat of her punished ass against my abdomen as I kissed her shoulder. Moving to speak against her ear, I said, “Good girl. Now I’m going to fuck you and fuck you hard. I’m going to keep fucking you until you come. I want to feel your ass clamping around my cock. I want to feel it hugging my flesh, thanking me for reminding you that I own even this darkest, most intimate part of you.”
It was glorious to see her flush, watch her eyes close but not before I saw the look of complete surrender, the submission so beautifully reflected. I moved back and began. Starting slowly, I withdrew, the tightness of her virgin ass gripping my cock as if reluctant to let me go. I didn’t pull out completely, sliding back in. Back and forth, in and out, I repeated the moves until she loosened just a bit. Her legs trembled, perspiration shone on her skin, but when I reached beneath her to flick a nipple, I found it rock hard. When I twisted it, I felt her channel convulse, tightening around me.
“Where is my cock, Hannah?”
“In-in my ass, sir.”
“And what is it going to do?”
“Fuc-fuck me hard.”
“That’s right. And if you don’t come like I’ve commanded, I’m going to spank your naughty cunt again. Understand?”
“God… yes… yes, sir.”
Giving her other nipple its own tweak, I gripped her hips again and no longer held back. I thrust balls deep and began to piston my hips. My balls slapped against her pussy with each stroke, quickly becoming covered with her arousal. It wasn’t the slow, easy lovemaking of this morning. This was primal. It was a man claiming a woman—the act imprinting on both of us that we were no longer two separate people. We were connected body and soul into one.
Not wanting to punish, but to drive her arousal higher, I slapped her ass as I plunged in again. Moving from cheek to cheek, refreshing the color that I’d painted on her cheeks earlier.
She arched, pushing her ass up higher, crying out with every stroke of hand and cock until she was begging.
“I-I need to come… God, I-I’m going to come!”
I fucked her harder, faster. Ready to explode, I dropped a hand to her sex, my fingers instantly soaked as fluid practically poured from her. Her clit was slippery, swollen, and so fucking engorged that I was able to easily hold it between my thumb and finger.
“Come!” I commanded, closing my fingers, pinching her clit and she screamed. Her ass muscles contracted so hard that I couldn’t move. Convulsions moved along my shaft as I erupted so explosively that it was painful. My roar filled the room as I filled her ass with cum. She continued to come, her entire body shaking until I had to reach around her waist to support her as I finished emptying into her.
I was breathing as if I’d run a marathon, my heart pounding so hard I could swear it was going to stop, and yet I’d never felt anything so blissful, so damn all-consuming before in my life. As I began to retreat, I could hear her mumbling the same word over and over again.
“God… God… God…”
“No, just the man who loves you with every cell of his being,” I said, my cock slipping out as I rolled to my back, pulling my wife along with me.
She collapsed against me, her breathing as hard as mine, her skin coated with sweat. Her hands slipped under me, hugging me close. Her ear was pressed over my heart, her legs twining with mine.
It was several minutes before either one of us could speak without gasping. She lifted her head, her cheeks wet with the tears that were falling from luminous blue eyes.
“Thank you. Thank you for loving me. For being the man I need so very much but don’t deserve.”
She yipped as I slapped her ass. “You deserve so much more, Hannah, but thank you for accepting me.”
I pulled her up my body, cupping her face between my palms as I kissed her long and hard until, once again, we both had to gasp for breath. “Thank you for being mine.”
“Every inch,” she said, dropping to give me a gentle kiss.
“We should shower,” I said without an ounce of enthusiasm.
“Later,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
Smiling, I adjusted her until she was spooned against me. I’d experienced terror at the thought of something happening to her and then joy beyond measure as we celebrated the blessing of no real harm coming to her and our commitment to each other. Closing my eyes, my hand gently cupping her breast, my leg thrown over hers, I said a prayer of gratitude, knowing that tomorrows were never promised and vowing to make sure that every day, every moment that we were granted on this Earth, my wife, my babygirl, would know just how much she meant to me.