Chapter 26 #2
I step forward and slide my hand between her thighs. She’s absolutely drenched, her pussy lips swollen and hot to the touch. I press two thick fingers inside her, feeling her cunt clench around me immediately.
“You’re going to come on my fingers first,” I tell her. “Then on my cock. And if you’re very good, I might let you come a third time when I fill you with my cum.”
I curl my fingers upward, finding that spot that makes her whole body jerk. My thumb circles her clit, slick with her juices.
“Come,” I command, pressing firmly against her G-spot. “Come for me now, like the good little slut you are.”
“Oh god, Domhn!” she wails, her body convulsing violently. Her juices flood my hand, running down my wrist. I work her through it mercilessly until she’s sobbing incoherently.
“That’s one,” I growl, withdrawing my fingers and bringing them to her lips. “Taste yourself.”
She sucks my fingers like they’re my cock, tongue swirling around the digits. The sight nearly breaks me—this beautiful woman bound to my cross, eagerly licking her own arousal from my hand.
My cock is throbbing to the point of pain now. I can’t wait any longer.
“I’m going to fuck you senseless now,” I growl, positioning myself behind her. “Going to ruin this pretty cunt.”
I grab her hips, fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises. I guide my cock to her entrance, feeling her heat against the sensitive head.
“Please,” she whimpers, trying to push back against me.
“Beg me,” I demand, rubbing the head of my cock up and down her slit. “Beg me to fill you with my cock.”
“Please, Sir,” she gasps. “Please fuck me. I need it so badly. I need you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore. Please, please, please...!”
Her desperate litany breaks the last of my restraint.
I slam forward, entering her in one brutal thrust that buries me to the hilt. She screams, a raw, animal sound of pure sensation as I stretch her completely.
“Fuck,” I hiss, the tight, wet heat of her nearly making me come on the spot. “So fucking perfect.”
I set a brutal pace, each thrust harder than the last. The wet, obscene sounds of our fucking fill the room, punctuated by her cries and my grunts.
“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” I growl, driving into her relentlessly. “You needed to be fucked like the dirty little slut you are. To be reminded who you belong to.”
“Yes,” she gasps between thrusts. “Yes, oh god, yes!”
My discipline has completely shattered. I’m rutting into her like an animal, driven by primal need. This is how I deal with pain—by inflicting it, by taking control, then losing myself in the violence of it.
But it’s more than that. It’s how we save each other and pull each other back from the brink when the world gets too heavy to bear alone.
I reach down to squeeze her ass where the cane marked her, digging my fingers into the welts. She jerks violently, a strangled cry tearing from her throat.
“You like the pain, don’t you?” I growl, my other hand finding her clit. “Your cunt gets even wetter when I hurt you.”
My control slips further, my accent thickening as it always does when I’m this far gone. “You feel so fecking good, love. When I’m at work I dream of railing your perfect little pussy. Of bendin’ you over me desk and fuckin’ you ’til ye can’t remember yer own feckin’ name.”
I can feel her beginning to tense, approaching climax. “Come now. Come on my cock. NOW!”
I squeeze her marked flesh ruthlessly as I stroke her clit and drive into her relentlessly.
Her scream turns high and desperate, her pussy convulsing around my shaft in powerful waves.
The rhythmic pulsing triggers my own release. I thrust one final time, burying myself to the hilt, my cock jerking as I empty myself inside her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, each pulse of cum feeling like it’s being ripped from my very soul. “I love ya so fuckin’ much.”
We collapse together, bodies still connected, both breathing hard. I press tender kisses to her spine as I release her from the cuffs, massaging her wrists gently.
“It’s good to cry,” I murmur as she dissolves into sobs. “Just let it out.”
I gather her into my arms, carrying her to the private aftercare room. I lay her down gently on a newly made-up bed before climbing in beside her, pulling her tight against me.
This is the aftermath I crave—holding her, soothing her, being everything she needs me to be. The way she collapses into me, trusting me completely to piece her back together after I’ve taken her apart.
“You were perfect,” I whisper into her hair. “So fucking perfect for me.”
She cries harder at my words, her entire body wracked with sobs. I just hold her, running my fingers through her hair, whispering that it’s going to be alright.
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispers.
“Don’t be,” I tell her, kissing her forehead. “You never have to be sorry for needing something.”
“I miss her sometimes,” she admits. “Even though she was...” She trails off.
“She was part of you,” I finish. “It’s natural to feel her absence, even as you become more whole.”
“Will you... will you still love all of me? Even the parts that used to be her?”
My arms tighten around her. “I’ve always loved all of you, Anna. The soft and the sharp. The light and the dark. Every single piece.”
And it’s true. I don’t just want the easy parts of her. I want the complicated mess, the contradictions, the fractures and the fissures. I want her whole and broken, because she’s the only person who understands that sometimes love looks like this—desperate and violent and necessary.
As she drifts toward sleep, I keep holding her, marveling at how we found our way back to each other.
We’re both so broken, so fucked up in our own ways.
But maybe that’s what makes us work. We don’t need to be saved—we need to be seen.
Accepted. Loved for all the dark, twisted parts of ourselves that we can’t show anyone else.
Dr. Ezra thinks I create family by taking care of the needy. Maybe he’s right. But if that’s true, then Anna is perfect for me—because she needs me as much as I need her. Not to be fixed, but to be held. To be understood. To be loved without judgment or condition.
In this quiet moment, with her nestled against me, everything feels almost right. We’re two broken people trying to save each other through the only language we both understand.
The only question…
Is that enough?