Chapter 42 #2
Pain spreads across my ass, and for a moment I consider shouting Yellow , but then the pain fades, leaving only a delicious kind of heat in its place.
A low moan escapes my lips when he gently traces his fingers over my burning skin.
“That’s for looking so goddamn beautiful that not a single man could keep their eyes off you at your concert,” he murmurs, his tone carrying a hint of anger.
He caresses my ass and places a soft kiss on my unharmed cheek, only to bite down on it moments before a harsh slap lands on that too, no doubt making both sides equally red. “This is for the roses, though I’m pleased with the way you destroyed a few of them.”
“Dion,” I moan. “Oh God .” I didn’t think this is something I’d be into considering the harsh punishments my father always inflicted, but it feels so good .
There’s something so empowering about knowing that even his harshest punishments are designed to bring me pleasure.
Despite his rough touch, I feel safe and cherished, and it makes me feel far more emotional than I thought it could.
Dion’s tongue brushes over my thighs, inching close but not nearly close enough to where I want him.
“You want all of me, baby?” he whispers, his breath dancing across my pussy.
“I’ll give you all of me.” His tongue begins to lap around my clit, and then he sucks down on it, making it clear that he’d mark me there if he could.
My moans get louder, my pleas incoherent, but he doesn’t care.
He doesn’t relent until I’m at the brink of an orgasm, and then he pulls away abruptly, refusing to give me what I want.
“ No ,” I sob, desperate. “ Please .”
He just chuckles, as though my frenzy amuses him.
“Just be grateful I haven’t tied you up, wife.
One day, I will. Piss me off again, and I’ll tie you to our bed and fuck you right to the brink of madness.
Depending on my mood, I’ll either force you to come so many times that you’re begging for a reprieve, or I won’t let you come at all, keeping you at the edge until I give you permission to come. ”
A thrill runs down my spine at the thought of it, and already, I’m thinking of ways to make him punish me like that.
I don’t want him to be nice to me. I want him to treat me roughly and prove to me that no matter what I do, his worst will never truly hurt me.
I want to push and prod until he shows me his demons, until he pushes me into that headspace where I can finally be myself — not the Windsor wife I was raised to be, not my father’s prim daughter. Just his . His everything.
In my peripheral vision, I see him grab one of Eric’s roses as I come down from the high he brought me to.
He analyzes it, seemingly pleased with the way it’s still unopened.
Before I realize what he intends to do with it, he’s got it pressed against my pussy, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he pushes it in.
“What would Eric say if he saw you right now, angel? Your pussy is swallowing one of the roses he bought for you so beautifully .” I moan, the soft feel of the flower only bringing a hint of relief. “I guess he did buy them for you to enjoy, and you’re definitely doing that, aren’t you?”
“ Dion ,” I moan, my tone a mixture of chastising and pleading. “I need you, please .”
He presses his finger against my clit as he begins to fuck me with the rose, his movements carefully controlled. “You don’t deserve my cock, but you’re taking your punishment so well that I might have to reconsider.”
“I need… I need to come,” I tell him, my breathing ragged. He doesn’t care — he just continues to tease until he’s successfully withheld another orgasm from me. Only then does he pull the rose away, letting it fall to our bedroom floor, another humorless laugh escaping his lips.
“You’re so desperate for my cock,” he murmurs, pleased. “Tell me, wife. Who does this pussy belong to?”
“ You ,” I reply instantly. “It belongs to you, Dion.”
He hums in approval. “I’m so proud of you, Faye.
You’re doing so well, but surely you realize that you deserve to be punished for enchanting me?
You make me want things I swear I’d never even dream of, and now I’ve had a taste of you, I can never go back to my life before you. You’ve fucking ruined me.”
I gasp as his hand comes down on my skin again, harder this time, the tips of his fingers slapping against my pussy, and it’s exactly what I needed to push me over the edge.
A loud moan escapes my lips as my entire body contracts, my knees giving in.
My mind goes blank, and Dion catches me, holding me in his arms as the strongest and longest orgasm I’ve ever felt tears through my body, his name on my lips.
“I’ve got you, my love,” he murmurs. He kisses my forehead as I tremble in his embrace, his touch so gentle that I’m on the brink of tears. I’m not sure why I’m so emotional today, but he just makes me feel so safe.
“You okay, baby?” he asks when my breathing evens out. I nod, and he nips at my earlobe. “Good, because I’m not done with you.”
The moment my body stills, he turns me over and throws me onto our bed, his gaze burning with the same need I feel. “Tell me. Did I give you permission to come, Faye?” he asks, his voice rough.
I lie back and shake my head, my gaze eager as he unbuckles his belt. My pussy spasms in delight when he takes out his cock and I spread my legs for him eagerly, but he shakes his head.
“Only good girls get my cock, angel.” He climbs onto our bed and kneels in between my legs as he strokes himself, his eyes on mine. I reach for him, but he throws me a chastising stare. “You want me to fuck you, huh?” he murmurs.
“I need it,” I admit, my tone frantic. “I need to feel you inside me. Please .”
He smiles at me, his lips parting as he gets closer. “You should’ve thought of that before you came without my permission.”
His eyes fall closed as he comes all over my chest and stomach, the sound of his moans making me shiver in delight. He may not have been fucking me, but that was all for me. I know it.
Dion smirks as he looks down at me and grabs a handful of rose petals, a dangerous look in his eyes as he drops them on top of me. I watch him as he reaches for me and massages them into my skin until I’m a mess of rose petals and him .
Then he grabs his phone and takes a photo of me, legs spread, desire dancing in my eyes. “Beautiful,” he whispers. “This,” he says, turning his phone toward me to show me the photo, “is going to accompany me on every trip I have to go on without you.”
He drops his phone to the bed and leans over me then, his lips finding mine.
I breathe a sigh of relief when he finally kisses me, his touch gentle and caring, and so very much in contrast with his earlier roughness that it brings tears to my eyes all over again.
He pulls back a little to look at me, his gaze dark.
“I think I’m in love with you, Faye Windsor.
If ever there was a chance I’d let you go, it’s gone now.
You are mine , and you will be for the rest of your life.
There’s no hiding from me. There’s no place you could go where I wouldn’t hunt you down. ”
I smile at him, oddly pleased by his words. This is what I wanted — the real him, every last depraved inch of him. “I can live with that,” I murmur, answering his unspoken question. “Because I think I’m in love with you, too.”