Chapter 39 #2
My head is pressed to the sheet, my hands have a death-grip on the bars, and my body is covered in perspiration. I’m not sure I took it that well.
But he’s in. My ass is stretched uncomfortably wide, but he’s in. It hurts, but at least I’ve done what he wanted.
He doesn’t move for the longest time, letting me adjust. Our room is quiet for the first time since we came in; no sounds of spanks, or moans, or whimpers, just our breathing slowly steadying.
From somewhere outside comes the sound of laughter, our wedding guests entertaining themselves.
I wonder if they’re laughing at me and the noises Alex has pulled from me, and I tense.
“Relax, Tink.” His gentle murmur grounds me again. “Focus on me, on you. On us.”
He always knows exactly what to say.
I’m suddenly grateful he hasn’t asked me if I’m all right; I told him I wouldn’t lie again. I’m hoping he doesn’t now, because he has an uncanny ability to read my mind. He wants this, and I want to give it to him. My wedding present: my anal virginity.
His weight shifts, and his hand slips beneath me, fingers finding my pussy. “So deliciously wet,” he breathes.
Of course it is. I’ve just come so hard.
A fingertip strokes lightly over my clit, and I let out a soft gasp, my arousal spiking again.
Alex does it again, playing with me gently, and the oil he’s used lets his touch glide across my sensitive flesh.
And now I can’t help but focus on my pussy, not my ass. It’s like his cock and fingers are working together, the pressure within no longer uncomfortable, just… different. And not unpleasant.
Then he begins to move.
His cock slides out, pushes back in, but his fingers don’t stop playing with my clit. I’m stretched, filled, stimulated… it’s so new, so intense.
Alex is fucking my ass.
The thought makes me whimper, and I press back against him. He groans in response, thrusting harder, and the pressure of his fingers increases.
My arousal swings back in full force. I had no idea it would feel like this, that it could even be pleasurable, but the pain has gone and only the tightness, fullness, and pleasure remain.
It’s not enough. I want more.
“Harder.”
Did I really say that?
His groan is primal, possessive, and full of his own arousal. But he responds with thrusts that drive him into me, and once again I have to lock my arms and brace. He’s so much stronger than I am, taking me while I’m tied and helpless, forcing me to submit to him, and I love it.
“Alex…” I say through a whimper.
“Yes…?” He doesn’t stop thrusting, his response coming on a breath of exertion.
“I love you.”
I know you do.
It’s his response every time. I hear it before he even says it.
But he doesn’t. “That’s because… you’re mine,” he says instead.
And he’s right.
Is that the same as love?
In this moment, with him inside me, it feels the same.
“I am,” I admit through the haze of my arousal. “I’m yours.”
“My wife,” he responds, thrusting hard enough that his hips slap into my raised ass, driving my breath from me. “My Vicky.” His fingers play over my clit, and I screw my eyes tighter shut, and give in to the feelings washing through me. “My Tink.”
Yes, I’m his Tinker Bell. That’s as fitting as any of the other terms.
Alex pounds into me, the obscene slap of flesh on flesh filling the room, punctuated by my soft cries and his grunts of effort.
“I’m going to come in your ass,” he tells me, and I feel his rhythm hitch, his strokes becoming shorter.
His fingers rub across my clit, and my own release is near, but his words make me clench. His cum in my ass.
“Take all your holes,” he mutters, like it’s a promise to me, to himself.
I moan in response. He’s already had my mouth, my pussy.
And I’m going to come again, with him fucking my ass.
“Make you mine,” he adds, like he’s marking me.
His breathing is ragged now, his muscles tensing where our bodies touch. I don’t know how long he’s been going, only that I’m so in love, so close, so his.
His cock twitches deep within me, his hips pressed hard against me, and he gives an explosive grunt. I feel the warmth of his release, spurting inside me, and his fingers find my clit again.
And I clench around him with the force of my own orgasm, crying out my pleasure, my love for him.
Alex collapses over me, his full weight on my back, his cock still twitching inside my ass. Neither of us moves. My heart is pounding, and so is his. He strokes my hair, his forehead resting on my arm, and our breaths mingle.
“You came with me in your ass,” he says at last.
He leads with that?
My face flushes, and I turn away.
He chuckles. “Is it so very taboo, my poor, precious Tink?”
It’s not taboo. I’m not precious.
It’s just… humiliating.
“You’ll get used to it,” he says, deliberately rubbing his hips against my ass and pulling another gasp from me as his cock moves within.
“Used to it?” I echo in protest.
“Sure.” He’s so damn confident. Smug. “Now that I know how much you like it…”
I muffle my huff against the sheet, but he still hears, still laughs again. Like everything I do is amusing to him.
Then he lifts his weight off me, drawing his cock very carefully from within me. It still hurts, and I whimper. But then it’s out, and I’m only empty, hollow, and… sticky.
“Be right back,” he murmurs. “Don’t go anywhere.”
The fuck is he going?
Leaving me like this? Like this?
“Oh yes,” I say sarcastically. “I’ll stay right here.”
Bound.
But the bed shifts as his weight leaves, and his bare feet pad across the floor behind me. Into the bathroom, where a moment later, I hear the taps come on, a rush of water filling the tub.
He’s back in a moment, but he doesn’t untie me. The room is quiet.
I turn my head, and he’s got his phone out again. As soon as I meet his eyes, there’s a click. And then another. And more.
“Did you just take a picture?” I say sullenly, though it’s obvious he did.
“No, I took a dozen.”
No remorse.
I scowl at him. He’s taking pictures? I’m lying on the bed, bound and naked, his cum leaking from my well-fucked ass, and he’s taking pictures?
The phone goes down on his bedside table, and I glare at it. I know damn well there’s no point getting a hold of it and deleting them; he automatically uploads everything straight to the cloud.
He unties my ankles, one after the other, and places a kiss on the back of my thigh, then stands next to me, naked, leaning in as he unties my neck, then my wrists. His hands rub the marks away, but they’re not sore. The rope is soft, and his knots are firm, not tight.
“Bathtime, Tink.”
That actually sounds nice, but… “Give me a moment. I can’t walk.”
He gives that masculine laugh that’s full of smug satisfaction. “Turn over, I’ll carry you.”
That doesn’t sound too bad either, and I roll onto my back, unable to meet his eyes. I still see that irritating grin, like the cat that got the cream. Or put it in my ass.
He bends, sliding his arms beneath me, then lifts me like I weigh nothing, cradled to his chest as he walks us to the bathroom. The high-flow taps have done their work, and the tub is already half-full. He’s added a bath bomb, and the delicate scent fills the air, bubbles filling the tub.
It’s set into the floor, and that means he doesn’t even have to put me down, but can simply step in, lowering us into the water.
It’s the perfect temperature, soothing on my aching but happy body.
And Alex still doesn’t let go of me, but holds me to his chest, one hand cupping my breast while with the other, he runs a soft loofah over my skin.
After a moment, he reaches over and turns the taps off. I close my eyes and let my head loll back against his shoulder. We sit there for a while, relaxing in the water. Peaceful and calm.
“We should probably go back down and be good hosts,” I say at last. I don’t want to, though; I know they would’ve heard us. At least enough to leave them in no doubt of some of the things we’ve been doing.
“Mmm hmm,” he murmurs, making no effort to move.
That’s fine with me.
We lie there a while longer, until the water begins to get cold. Alex reaches over and adds more hot.
“Are we going back down?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? It’s the middle of the afternoon. We can’t stay up here all day.”
“We can. Not sharing you.”
That’s fine with me, too.
I nestle back against him and close my eyes. “I love you.”
He’s quiet for a long moment before he replies. “You know, if I don’t always say it back, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
My eyes flick open.
“I don’t really know how to love,” he continues, voice wistful. “But I think I’m willing to try. To learn.” He shifts my body until he can see my face, his eyes intense. “Is that enough?”
“That depends,” I say solemnly. “Will you delete those pictures?”
His mouth curls on one side, dimple appearing. “Which pictures?”
Bastard.
I huff a sigh. “You know damn well which pictures.”
“No. I won’t delete those pictures.” He positions me back where I was, and his hand cups my breast. “I need them.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
Pictures of me bound and naked. Pictures of his cum leaking from my ass.
I know my face is bright red. I’m glad he can’t see it.
“Whatever for?”
“What do you think, Tink?” His thumb brushes over my nipple. “Wedding album.”