Forty-Six
Amelia
It’s not my plan to hide. Our bedroom is my destination.
The chase is because I want him as worked up as I can get him. I hope I’m not pushing him too much, that he doesn’t do himself an injury with what’s to come.
Assuming I get my way.
He marauds through the house after me, his tread heavy, banging doors open. “Little Stray? Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
In all the time I’ve known him, this is the only occasion he hasn’t been stealthy. It’s the exhilaration of being hunted; playing out a fantasy with the man who is my fantasy.
My heart races, the blood pounding through my veins, my breath shallow, heat climbing my throat. The thrill of fear. He won’t harm me, but he does have that list. This will hurt, and I want it to. My breasts need his touch so bad they ache, and I’m so wet it’s embarrassing.
My steps are silent because I don’t want to tip him off too soon, and I reach the bedroom well ahead of him. I’m lying on the bed when he walks in, my fingers entwined around the bars of the headboard, one knee raised.
An offering to him.
He pauses in the doorway to run his gaze over me, and lets loose a low growl of promise. If I wasn’t already wet, I would be from hearing that. And from seeing his cock, heavy and thick.
He leaves me waiting, crossing to the dresser instead and digging beneath the clothes in a drawer. He pulls out a pair of cuffs.
I was certain he didn’t have any of those. I should’ve known better.
“Turn over,” he commands.
I stretch lazily. “Make me.”
He’s on me before I can question the wisdom of my choices, his hand around my throat, holding me, the cuffs loose on the sheets. His eyes watch mine for a long moment, and then he smiles. It’s not predatory or vicious, it’s soft, gentle. Full of love.
And the fingers of his other hand slap down on my breast, right over my nipple.
Heat flares through me and I gasp, high and sharp. My eyes flutter closed, but I force them open, wanting to watch him. My skin stings, but he smooths it away with the back of his hand, tilting his head as he regards me. “Turn over?”
“No.”
It’s a grin this time, playful and amused. He takes my nipple between finger and thumb, rolling it as he pulls slowly upward. Lightning shoots through me, straight to my brain, my sex, and my fingers tighten on the bars of the headboard.
“Turn over, Little Stray,” he croons.
“Is that… all you’ve got?” I ask, breathless.
He chuckles, low and soft, and his grip tightens around my throat, constricting my air. His other hand roughly pushes my thigh aside, and before I can realize what he intends, his fingers slap down on my pussy.
I cry out, eyes widening, struggling to draw a breath as he spanks my sex again, and again.
None of the blows are hard, but it’s so sensitive.
Each strike sends a jolt through my clit, and after half a dozen, I try to close my legs.
He doesn’t allow it, tutting at me as he forces my knee open, and the next spank is the hardest one yet.
I whimper, the sound so quiet I’m not even sure he hears, but it’s all I have air for. His grip on my throat loosens immediately, and I draw in a shuddering breath. Every nerve is alive, my pussy on fire, so much that I’m only vaguely aware of the tingle in my breast.
He leans down and kisses me, and I open to him, closing my eyes as I lose myself in the feel of his tongue. His fingers play through my folds and tease my entrance, caressing me gently, and I moan my need into his mouth, my back arching.
He pulls back and gazes down at me, his eyes soft. “Are you going to obey?”
I scoff. “No.”
A rueful smile. “Are you always going to fight me?”
“Yes,” I whisper, yearning for this dynamic between us and so very aroused. Then I think about it. “No,” I correct, “not always.”
“I’ll take that,” he murmurs.
Then he flips me over, like I weigh nothing to him, my breath catching at the suddenness of it.
His hand grips the back of my neck, holding me still, and the cuffs close around one wrist. I could struggle, and maybe one day soon I will.
But for today, I lie docile, letting him thread the other end through the bars and tighten the cuffs around my other wrist.
Only then do I pull, closing my eyes at the feel of the chain catching, knowing myself bound by him. This is freedom. This is release. This is what I’ve been craving.
“Lift your hips, Little Stray.”
“Screw you, Van Wyk.” I smile into the sheet.
His fingers dig into my neck and he leans over me, his lips near my ear so I don’t miss a word. “I’m going to spank you until you lift your hips for me. And then I’m going to fuck you.” He pauses. “How long it takes you determines whether it’s your pussy I enjoy, or your tight little ass.”
“All of me is tight,” I retort.
“True,” he says, the word carrying his amusement. “Won’t be so tight when I’m done with you.”
His hand trails lightly down my back until his palm cups one cheek.
He gives it a squeeze, spreading me open, then it’s gone.
An instant later, his palm cracks into my flesh, driving a gasp from me.
The heat comes a second later, the pain a second after that.
I draw a ragged breath, bracing myself with my hands on the bars.
I already want to lift my hips, but I don’t. That would be too easy.
The next blow lands on my other cheek, and I hear his grunt of effort in the same moment. He’s not holding back, and the whole of my ass is on fire.
“You wear my handprints on your beautiful ass so well,” he comments.
It’s hard to find enough breath to speak. “That’s because… my ass… is yours.”
“And all of me is yours.”
It doesn’t stop him spanking me again, and again, and I’d be disappointed if it did. Van Wyk isn’t a gentle man, and I wouldn’t want him to be. There’ll be time for quiet love-making in the days to come, but this isn’t the moment.
He pauses to run his hand over my searing cheek, soothing the sting, and it sends the heat direct to my pussy. I moan at his touch, pressing my hips to the bed not because I’m provoking him, but because I want the friction.
As if he can tell, his fingers dip between my legs. “You’re my good girl, all ready for me.”
“I’m not your good girl.” But I am. I really am.
“Such a bad girl,” he corrects, and his hand slaps down on my ass again.
This time, when I moan, I hear his grunt at the same moment, and the hint of pain carried within.
He might be stronger, but he’s not yet strong, and I can’t imagine the stress on his shoulder.
It’s his good arm that’s spanking me, his bad one pinning me down.
His weight and strength are holding me helpless—by the scruff of my neck, as he always calls it.
All I know is that I’m vulnerable, cuffed and held, and my hips come up. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want these games to hurt him, but it’s not the truth. The truth is I’m offering myself to him, because he’s vanquished me.
There’s no version of this where I’d want it any other way.
“Beautiful,” he says, almost to himself.
The bed shifts with his weight and his hands grip my hips, pulling me higher. I draw my knees beneath me, spreading them wide, holding myself open for him. He’s kneeling behind me, and I’m anticipating his cock pushing into me. But it’s not. It’s his tongue.
He spears into my pussy, then licks up through my folds, and I cry out at the intensity of it. He holds me tight so I can’t squirm away and licks again.
“So fucking wet,” he murmurs. “So fucking delicious. So fucking mine.”
His tongue slides inside me, teasing my entrance, and his fingers find my clit. I buck, gasping, wanting to be more full than this will allow. He’s toying with me when I’m already so aroused. I moan my need, and the bastard stops playing with my clit, circling it instead.
And his tongue slides up between my ass cheeks, probing at my other hole.
“Not there,” I whimper. “Please, not there.”
“Do you think you get a choice?”
His mouth returns, his tongue pushing inside my ass, warm, wet and slippery, and I jerk at the sensation. God, I can’t stop him doing whatever he wants. Which is the point. I gave him this.
“Do you want my cock, Little Stray?”
“Yes, damn it. You know I do.”
“Where?”
It’s a trick question. Whichever answer I give, he’s enough of a sadist to choose the other. Instead, I give him the honest one.
“Anywhere,” I breathe. “Everywhere.” It’ll happen anyway, in time. I can’t complain when I get what I want. His cock in my body, his seed splashing inside me. Or on me.
He chuckles softly. “Good answer.”
The head of him rubs through my folds, pressing against my entrance and slipping away.
He’s still teasing me, making himself wet with a combination of my arousal and his.
It doesn’t mean anything; he could still have my ass in mind.
I fight to relax, to prepare myself. Last time, he used coconut oil.
This time, there hasn’t been anything save his tongue and our own fluids.
I can feel the wetness he left. Is it enough?
His cock returns to my pussy, slapping against my clit. I hiss in a breath, the flesh so sensitive after he spanked me there, too. The pain is mild, only enough to spur on the pleasure.
He pushes into me, stretching my pussy with one sharp thrust of his hips, and I cry out in relief and need, pain and pleasure. He’s not all the way in, despite how ready I am, and he pulls back and thrusts again.
This time, he slides into the hilt, hips pressed to my ass. I’m so deliciously full, clenching down on him before I can even think of it, and I almost come right then.
God, how I’ve missed this.
“So fucking tight,” he breathes. “So heavenly. You’re perfect, Little Stray.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
His hand slaps down on my ass. “Shall I make you ask me nicely? Shall I make you beg?”
“I’m already begging, you bastard.” I push my hips into him, but the aggravating man just pulls back. “God, fuck me already.”
“Lukas,” he growls. “That’s the only name I want to hear.”
“I love you, Lukas,” I cry. “Fuck me, Van Wyk.”
He grunts in response, fingers digging into my hips, and it’s the only warning I get.
He slams into me, pulling me against him as he does, and I cry out again with the bliss of it.
He doesn’t stop but continues with a punishing rhythm, using that amazing physique of his to its best possible purpose.
My ass rises to meet him, and I have to lock my arms and brace myself against his onslaught.
This is what I want. This is what I’ve craved, every day since he pinned me over a table on a terrace and did just this to me.
His cock penetrates me so perfectly, stretching and filling me, every stroke rubbing over my g-spot.
He’s doing it deliberately, I know he is, and my arousal climbs and climbs.
I’m pressing back against him, whimpering uncontrollably, my orgasm building low and intense inside me.
“That’s it, Little Stray,” he grunts. “You’re taking my cock so well. You feel so good, gripping me so fucking tight.”
His words push me over the edge, and I cry out as I clench down on him so hard it aches, another mild pain driving my pleasure higher.
It’s too much, and my vision shatters, eyes rolling back as I quickly close them, light exploding against my lids.
My orgasm tears through me, and I’m only vaguely aware of what I’m crying out.
“Lukas… Lukas…”
“That’s right,” he growls behind me, his cock swelling within me.
My heart is bursting with love, with pleasure, and then I feel him erupt deep within me.
His seed splashes hot and thick in jet after jet, filling me, and I come again just from the sensation.
My pussy grips him like I never want him to leave, milking him of every drop.
My legs tremble uncontrollably, and it’s all I can do not to collapse.
His weight comes down on my back, taking the choice away, and together we crumple onto the bed with him still inside me.
His breathing is heavy against my cheek, and mine is ragged. I can hardly hear anything over the pounding of my heart.
Damn it. I didn’t make him lose control.
Maybe next time.
“How’s your shoulder?” I ask after a while.
“Hurts like hell,” he mutters. “Not as sore as my thigh. Worth every second.” A pause. “How’s your ass?”
“Not as sore as my pussy, you bastard.”
“Good. One item ticked off the list.”
Just one?
After some moments, he reaches up for my hands.
“No,” I murmur. “Don’t unfasten me just yet. I want the freedom to last a little longer.”
He pauses, then chuckles softly at the words my hazy mind let slip out.
“Be free, Little Stray. We’ll be free together.”
His fingers hook around mine, and we lie there waiting for our breathing to steady, his weight on me the most comforting feeling in the world.
I feel safe. I feel loved. I feel, finally, like I’m home.