Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Blue
Iblink hard, and a tear slips free, hot against my cheek.
"I mean it. I love you," Red says, his voice rough but steady.
I nod, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them. But it's too much, too soon after the high of the orgasms. And I need more. So I beg, "Please, Red. Fuck me hard and make me hurt again."
His voice drops lower. "Is that what you need?"
"Yes. My body needs bruises. I need to still feel you when you're not in me. Please." The desperation cracks my voice, raw and aching.
Darkness floods his expression. He stills deep inside me, one hand stroking my hair off my cheek, his thumb gentle even as his eyes burn. "Are you ready to take all of me? Everywhere?"
My heart slams against my ribs. "Yes."
"Are you sure?" He digs his hand between my ass and the sheets, squeezing it, and adding, "You want me to rip open this virgin ass of yours?"
I slide my hand to the back of his head, fingers gripping tight, anchoring myself to him. "Yes! Please! I want every part of you marked on me, inside, outside, everywhere."
He groans. "Fuck, Bluebird."
I continue, "Bruise me. Bite me. Fill me until I can't think straight and then keep going until I'm so sore tomorrow, I can't sit without remembering exactly how deep you went, how hard you took me, how completely you owned me.
" My voice breaks on the last word. I'm trembling beneath him, every nerve alive.
He leans back and studies me.
I pull his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling in short, hot pants.
"I need the ache," I whisper, lips brushing his with every syllable.
"I need the proof on my skin and in my body that I'm yours and no one else gets to touch me like this, or make me feel this safe and this wrecked at the same time. "
He keeps the slow thrust, staying quiet.
A gut-wrenching craving torments me. I beg, "Please. Give me everything. Make it hurt and make me yours in ways I can still feel when you're at work, when I'm alone, when the world tries to tell me I'm too much. Please."
A feral storm brews in his gaze. He clamps his hands down on my hips, hard enough to bruise, pinning me exactly where he wants me. A low growl rumbles from his throat, not quite human. The slow, careful thrusts vanish. What's left is pure hunger.
He surges forward in one brutal push, burying himself so deep I gasp and arch, feeling branded from the inside out. "You want ruined?" he rasps, teeth grazing my throat before he bites down hard, marking my pulse with fresh heat that'll bloom dark by morning.
"Yes!" I choke out.
"Then take every fucking inch of the monster you woke up, Bluebird.
I'm going to stretch you, fill you, break you open until your body remembers only me.
Every step tomorrow will make you wince and smile because you'll still drip with proof that you belong to something dark and devoted and utterly fucking yours.
" Then his rhythm turns punishing, reverent, each slam a vow carved into my flesh.
"Oh God!" I cry out, the words torn from me.
His fingers dig crescents into my thighs as he leans in, breath scorching my ear. "I'll ruin you so sweetly, you'll beg for the wreckage. When you shatter, I'll cradle every trembling piece while you come back to me. Even my demon knows you're the only light worth crawling back to, Bluebird."
"Show me you love me," I taunt, voice shaking.
"You are loved," he growls, then grips my thighs, spreading them wider, angling deeper. Each thrust hits my cervix, pain and ecstasy blurring together. He bites my shoulder, my collarbone, leaving marks that claim me.
I meet him thrust for thrust, cries spilling out, my body clenching tighter around him. I arch and whimper. "I'm close. Red, I—"
He reaches between us, pinching my clit hard. "Come. Now."
I scream, violent convulsions surge through me, and my whole body seizes in brutal, jerking waves.
He pounds into me, but then he pulls out abruptly, flips me onto my stomach, and tugs my waist up.
"Take it on your knees, face down, ass up.
Grip those bars and present that dripping hole to me.
You're going to take every savage thrust like it's your fucking job.
I'm going to rail you until your legs give out, then keep going because you were made to take what I give you. "
Adrenaline surges through me just from his words. I reach up with shaking hands, obeying, wrapping my fingers around the headboard bars.
He pushes my head down with one hand, arm locked around my waist, then plunges back into my spasming pussy.
I scream, "Dr. Mercer! I can feel you everywhere…stretching me…owning me…"
He tugs my head back so I'm staring at my own white knuckles. He growls, "Grip those bars tighter, baby. Watch your own hands shake while I rail you senseless."
"Please," I egg him on, his body heat battling with mine.
He drives in mercilessly. "Feel that? That's me owning every inch of you. And you're begging for it with every clench of your sweet cunt."
"R-R-Red!" I stutter. A savage tremor rips through me, turning me into a live wire. My torso bucks wildly, shoulders jerk, and fingers open then regrip the bars as violent, full-body convulsions claim me in relentless, bone-deep pulses.
Sweat drips off his chin onto my back. He lets it go on, then freezes deep inside me, leans over my body, kisses behind my ear, and warns, "Last chance. You sure you want to feel me everywhere?"
"Mmm," I moan.
He turns my head to face him. "Answer me."
I swallow hard and nod. "Please. Take me everywhere."
He slides out, positions the tip at my forbidden entrance, and threatens, "If you beg for it, I'll push past this tight ring, stretch you wide, and pound you until you're screaming and coming apart."
"Yes," I whisper, so quietly I'm not sure he hears over the pounding of my pulse.
He warns, "I'll make it hurt so sweet, you'll feel me for days. And I won't go easy, Bluebird. I'll thrust so deep, my hands will bruise your hips. So, tell me to take it all or tell me to stop."
My vision blurs and my voice shakes. "Please, Dr. Mercer. Take all of me."
He splays his palm on my spine and pushes past the hard ridge an inch.
A sharp, burning stretch ignites low in my body, hot, insistent, almost too much, but I fight it.
A raw, startled sound flies out of me before I can stop myself.
My back instinctively tries to bow, muscles clenching in protest, but his palm stays firm on my spine, anchoring me, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
The burn doesn't fade. It blooms, spreading outward in slow, throbbing waves that make my thighs tremble, and my toes curl against the sheets.
The intensity is borderline painful at first, but beneath the sting is something else.
There's a deep, unfamiliar fullness that presses against every nerve I didn't know I had, making my whole pelvis feel heavy and alive.
"Relax so you open wider. Breathe. Make this sweet hole take me deeper," he instructs.
I force myself to breathe. I take slow, shaky inhales through my nose and longer exhales through my mouth. Each breath loosens me just a fraction, and with every exhale, he sinks deeper.
The stretch widens, becomes a relentless, velvet pressure that fills me so completely, it steals my air. My vision blurs at the edges again, not from tears this time but from the sheer overwhelming sensation of being opened, claimed in a place no one's ever been.
It hurts in a bright, electric way, but heat laces the pain, and a dark, pulsing pleasure builds low in my belly and radiates up my spine.
Every tiny advance feels like he's rewriting my body, carving space just for him, and the knowledge that it's him—Red, my Dr. Mercer—makes the burn twist into something more addictive and filthy.
It's a craving I never knew I had, full of hungry bliss, and every inch of stretch screams that I belong to him.
He grunts, "Fucking tight hole. I'm going to make you leak for hours when I fill you," he promises, his pelvis finally hitting my ass cheeks.
"Oh God! I feel so full," I gasp.
He rubs his hand over my still-sensitive cheek from the paddle. He slowly thrusts a few times, letting me adjust, making me feel the tingles from his previous punishment.
I moan. My back relaxes under his hand.
"You like that, Bluebird?" he asks, checking in.
"Yes. Oh my God. This is so good, Red."
"Okay. I'll stay at this pace."
I reach back, hand fumbling against the sheets.
"What do you need?" he asks, breath ragged, still moving in and out of me.
"P-paddle. Use the paddle on me."
He freezes.
My hand flies to his thigh. I dig my nails in. "Don't stop moving."
He resumes thrusting.
Desperation spills out of me. "Please. Make me ache, Red. It…it'll feel so good. Please."
He hesitates only a second, then the soft creak of the mattress fills my ears as he reaches for the paddle. The leather whispers against the sheets as he picks it up, and my heart stutters in anticipation.
The first strike occurs without warning. A sharp, resounding crack lands across my right ass cheek that blooms into instant fire. I jolt forward on a gasp, my body instinctively clenching around the thick intrusion buried deep in my ass.
"That's it. You milk my cock, Bluebird," Red grits out, then groans low in his throat, the vibration traveling through every inch of him inside me.
"More," I implore.
He thrusts and smacks in a new rhythm, each time sinking deeper in me.
The pain from the paddle layers over the already-overwhelming stretch, turning the burn in my rear into something molten and alive. My skin sings where the leather kisses it. Hot, stinging, throbbing waves erupt in perfect time with his slow, deliberate thrusts.
He pauses, thrusting without paddling me.