Chapter 13 Raegan #2
She shakes her head vigorously from side to side and I can’t help but chuckle as I remove my skirt and step into the harness that holds her favorite fake cock.
It’s a solid eight inches and quite girthy, but still has a natural feel to it.
We’ve tried a lot of different ones and this was the clear favorite.
Positioning myself behind her, I run my fingers through her drenched heat until I find her clit. I circle it with my middle finger until she’s writhing against my hand and despite the tears that are still flowing, the way she’s soaking my hand tells me she’s ready.
“You’re dripping down my arm. Is all this for me?”
“Yes, Ma’am. It’s all for you. Only for you. Please, I need you.”
“I know you do, Darling Girl.” I pull my hand away and she lets out a choked whine. “Don’t worry, I’m about to give you exactly what you need.”
I run my hands over the sore, sensitive flesh of her ass before my right hand pulls back and smacks it lightly. Then, I line myself up to her soaked entrance and thrust, plunging the fake cock into her hard and fast until I’ve bottomed out and her breath stutters from the sudden stretch and force.
I give her a moment to catch her breath. As soon as her back arches, pushing her ass into me, I pull almost all the way out and thrust back in, repeating the same motion over and over as I fuck her through her tears.
I don’t always come when I fuck her, but there’s something about the way she’s practically fucking me back that has me so fucking wet and turned on that the minimal friction of this fucking dildo against my pussy is about to make me combust.
Leaning over her, I grab her hair, twist it in my fist and pull her head back–hard–until her ear is close to my mouth. I lazily moan into her ear while I grind my fake cock into her. It’s so deep, my pelvis is practically grinding against her ass.
“Tell me who owns you,” I order, my words a little too breathy.
“You… You do, Ma’am. Always you.” She spits out the words quickly, with a certainty she doesn’t usually have.
“Good, then come for me, Darling Girl,” I growl. “Come all over this fake dick for me like my good fucking girl.”
Her hips gyrate a few more times before her mouth falls open and she’s screaming out her orgasm for what feels like forever. I grind my pelvis into her one more time, pressing my clit hard into the toy and then I fall over the edge right behind her.
I make quick work of unrestraining her and guide her to the plush couch once I’ve wrapped her favorite blanket around her shoulders.
She’s already dropping from the intensity of the release she experienced.
It could get a little worse before she comes out of it.
I know from experience she needs the extra warmth as well as time for her mind and body to work through what it just went through.
I was hard on her, but that’s normal for us.
We’ve tried it both ways. When I was soft on her during a scene, she never got where she needed or wanted.
It wasn’t until I was consistently strict with her that the walls started to come down.
My darling girl craves a hard and demanding Dominant.
So I save the lovey-dovey stuff for aftercare.
She’s silent as I help her to sit and then I fall in place next to her, pulling her head into my chest and stroking her silken locks, settling any lingering noise that may be lingering within her.
Kissing the top of her head softly, she lets out a hushed whimper, but remains still for quite a while, also not unusual. Unfortunately that silence leaves me alone with my thoughts for a little too long. That’s never a good thing.
When she finally returns to the land of the living, her head tips up until our gazes lock.
Fuck. Those big, soft brown eyes live rent free in my head.
I see them when I close my eyes at night and when I wake up each morning.
She soothes the ache that’s buried deep in my soul just by existing.
I wonder if she knows how fond of her I truly am.
“Raegan, can I tell you something?”
I smirk. “Of course you can. What is it?”
She pulls away from my chest and straightens herself like she’s preparing for battle.
“I know it’s not what we set out to do here, but I can’t deny it anymore. I’ve fallen in love with you. I love you.” She pauses for a brief moment. “If I’m being honest with myself, I think I’ve loved you from the moment I first walked into your office.”
I suspected this was coming. Maybe not at this exact moment, but the emotions that she once fought so hard to keep at bay, she’s no longer good at hiding. At least not from me.
“Tell me you feel it, too. I know you do. I’m not blind. I see the way you look at me. Like you want to devour me and cuddle me at the same damn time.”
She’s an observant little thing, I’ll give her that.
“Demetria, you’re not wrong. I care for you very much.”
“Y-you care for me?”
I more than care for her. But I can’t bring myself to tell her that particular truth. I do, however, owe it to her to tell her another. That the last time I let myself love someone, I got my heart run over by a ten ton semi-truck. “My feelings are… complicated.”
“What does that mean?” Her eyes widen and I can already see the tears forming as she processes what I know she thinks is rejection.
It’s fucked up to say that I can’t give her what isn’t mine to give, but it’s the truest and cruelest form of the irony that is my life.
Unfortunately, my husband has resurfaced and taken up residence–again–in my head…
and my heart. I thought I was past my own pain and trauma caused by him leaving.
Apparently not. It feels unfair of me to keep her when my mind is somewhere else.
Even if that somewhere else doesn’t want me.
“It means… I’m broken and not capable of fully giving you what you need. Not like this.”
“No. You don’t get to be vague. You literally know everything about me and my bullshit. Tell. Me. Yours.” Her plea is choked as her tears begin to fall down her flushed cheeks. “I know you love me. I can fucking feel it.”
“Demetria–”
“No! Don’t call me that right now,” she shouts as she stands and crosses her arms protectively over her chest. “Tell me why you think you don’t love me.”
I stand and take a few steps toward her just for her to retreat further.
“I never said that.”
“You basically fucking did. Now tell me what I want to know or I’m leaving.”
I let out a long sigh. “There’s someone else…
from my past. Like I said, it’s complicated.
I haven’t seen them in many years, but they’ve recently popped back up.
I thought I was past that particular complication but I don’t think I am.
I’ve unfairly used you to escape my feelings and to avoid my own past trauma. ”
“But… I don’t care about your past.” Her words are pleading and breathy as her eyes widen and she takes a step toward me.
A sharp pain rips through my heart as I fight the urge to let her step fully into me so I can wrap my arms around her and make the pain go away… for both of us.
I clear my throat–ignoring the searing pain that’s threatening to tear my heart in two–and take a step back, mirroring her movement. When she moves to take another step, my hand flies up in protest.
Her shoulders roll forward and the pain etched into her expression as she stares absently at my open palm, is one I’m unlikely to ever forget.
It’s like a punch to the fucking gut. But it’s the soft sob emanating from her that seals the deal, fracturing and shattering my already well wounded heart into a million tiny pieces.
“I know you don’t. I’ll care about it for both of us.
And I’m the one that’s supposed to look out for you, not the other way around.
So, no matter what I feel for you… I have to let you go, Demetria.
You were my patient and it was wrong of me to get romantically involved with you in the first place. Believe me, it’s better this way.”
She sniffles, then aggressively swipes at the few visible tears rolling down her now rosy cheek.
“What the fuck do you know about what’s best for me? You think being with me for a handful of months makes you an expert? Well, guess what? It doesn’t.”
Her chest heaves and her tears continue, now closer to a full sob as she takes in what’s happening.
When I don’t answer her, she continues. “You’re seriously ending this, aren’t you?”
All I offer is a tight nod. If I try speaking, I’ll either fall apart just from hurting her or I’ll take it all back. Maybe both.
Hurriedly, she pulls on her clothes as best she can and grabs her bag, hugging it tightly to her chest, then with eerie calm, she shatters my heart into pieces.
“With you, I was so sure I’d finally found someone I could trust with my heart.
There’s no amount of glue that can fix this. I hope you can live with that.”
Then she’s gone.