Chapter 18 #2
My first instinct is to resist him. The constant ordering me around would have made me snap before if I hadn’t detected the fear in his eyes. But now, my perverse rebellion is back.
Until I note the look in his eyes. The fear is still there… but there’s anger, too, and behind it all is that dangerous glint that always makes me wet.
Inwardly cursing myself for not being able to resist him, I slowly peel off my dress. I’m still not wearing any underwear, and when he sees that I’m fully naked underneath, his annoyance melts. But he keeps a hard face.
“I’m going to punish you now.”
I shiver, my arousal all the greater because I can’t quite tell if he’s angry or turned on. It seems to be a bit of both. And it’s the same for me, I realize suddenly.
But I’m not quite ready to bend over and take it. I clench my fists and utter, “No.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “No?”
I try to keep up an air of bravado, but the truth is, this man terrifies me.
I’ve never been terrified before. Not of anyone.
Not the Monster, or the Beast, or Ben, or even Gabriel and the other Angels.
I was scared of being at their mercy. I was scared of what they could do. But I wasn’t scared of them.
But the person standing in front of me makes me weak in the knees.
“It’s our wedding night,” I blurt out, my voice cracking as I try to push through my nerves. “I don’t think husbands usually punish wives on their wedding night.”
His surprise turns into amusement that aggravates the fuck out of me. But when he pulls me to him, it all melts under his touch. Sometimes, I really hate myself.
“Well, if they don’t, they should,” he smirks.
Then he traps me between his legs, raking his hands up and down my sides, my back, my stomach, my bottom.
“You’ve been very naughty today. First by prying, even after I’d warned you not to…
” He runs his finger over my ass, then between my cheeks, finding the ring of muscle that leaves me breathless.
“… And then, by believing I’d ever leave you.
That will never happen.” He applies pressure as I wriggle uncomfortably, my legs still trapped between his.
He pushes through the muscle and I gasp in pain. Then he flips me around, his finger still in my ass, his legs still pinning me tightly to him.
“Stand straight,” he warns, and then he starts to finger fuck me.
Even though he’s only penetrating me with one finger, he’s thrusting hard, and I yelp in pain.
Still, I manage to stay upright… at first. After a while, under the force of his continued thrusting, I can’t help but keel over a bit, supporting myself by placing my hands on my knees.
He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He only thrusts into me harder.
Then he nudges my thighs apart, and I hope he’s going to touch me where I need him to. Instead, he chuckles in amusement.
“Already wet, are we? This is supposed to be a punishment, pet.”
He keeps thrusting, and I can’t help but arch my bottom more, offering him the space between my thighs. The finger-fucking is electrifying my core, but it’s not enough to make me come. I whimper in frustration.
“Tsk, tsk,” he chuckles. “Bad girl.”
He keeps his hands resolutely away from my pussy as he keeps fucking my ass with his finger. At last, he withdraws and pulls me back over his lap. I tilt my head back, hoping for a kiss at least, but he merely laughs.
“I think I’m going a little too easy on you,” he murmurs, sliding a hand over my stomach. “This is your wedding night after all. That calls for a more memorable punishment.”
My heart palpitates, wanting him to claim me completely. “You could… fuck me.”
He barks out a laugh and my face flames. “Or don’t,” I snap. “I don’t want you to.”
Grinning, he grabs me and lets me fall down on the bed. I’m still seething at the thought that he finds me adorable when I’m furious, when I hear him zip open the suitcase. Curiosity takes the place of anger when he takes out a satin eye mask and handcuffs.
Again, my body betrays him. I’m pissed off, but I still want him.
I want him to fuck me.
So I let him blindfold me and imprison my wrists in cuffs. He keeps my legs free, merely nudging them apart and stuffing a pillow between them so I can’t close them.
Another sound, this time of soft leather being removed from the suitcase. My heartbeat picks up as I feel him drag a flogger over my ass. I moan with nervous anticipation and thrill as he brings it down upon me, first softly, then a little harder, causing a sting that only serves to make me wetter.
“I’m going to spank that anger right out of you,” he breathes, and I find myself wanting him to.
Flog me. Fuck me. Own me. Don’t give me a choice.
The next stroke is even harder, and I can’t help but writhe in reaction.
That seems to light a fire under him, and soon he’s flogging me hard and fast as I squirm, trying to escape the relentless blows.
He strikes me on my bottom, my thighs, even between my thighs—especially between them.
For a while I resist, but at last, I’m lying still, panting hard, somewhere between exhaustion, submission, and a weird sort of sensation that I expect isn’t so different from a runner’s high.
And I know I’m drenched, drops of arousal trickling down my thigh. He comments on it in amusement.
“No coming tonight, my pet,” he warns, chuckling.
“But it’s my wedding night,” I protest, and he rewards me with another stinging blow.
Then he lies down beside me, rubbing away the pain.
“It’s our wedding night, and my new bride is going to obey me.
It’s in our wedding vows, and I’ll never let you forget it.
” He marks a pause. “I want to wait till we’re in our house to consummate our marriage.
I have every intention of fucking you senseless tomorrow. ”
I writhe against the pillows. I need it now. But he merely chuckles again.
“I’ll let you have something, though. I’ll deflower another part of you.”
He pushes a finger into my ass again, and I groan, part disappointment, part need. This is better than nothing.
But when he adds a second finger, then a third, I wince.
“Relax, my darling,” he murmurs. “Open for me. It’ll be less painful if you relax.”
He sits up again and goes around me, his fingers still inside me as his other hand spreads my legs more and props me up with more cushions. Then he withdraws and I inhale sharply, feeling a much larger presence push against the ring of muscle.
“Relax,” he cautions again.
I close my eyes, trying to breathe in deeply, but he doesn’t give me much time to prepare. Coating his cock in my arousal, he starts to push in, slow and steady. He’s forcing himself in, pushing past the barrier my body’s put up without my permission.
I whimper loudly but he ignores me and continues. I can tell that he’s restraining himself, but it still hurts far more than I’d expected. I bite down on a cry of pain.
I practically see white as he enters me fully, his restraint giving way to desire as he slams the last part of himself into me, burying himself to the hilt.
Then he stills for a while, letting me get accustomed to his impossible girth, embracing me from behind and finding my breasts.
He palms them, grazing the nipples gently until they’ve grown firm, and my arousal causes me to relax enough that his cock actually becomes pleasurable.
It throbs in my ass, and then he begins to thrust in and out, as my whimpers of pain turn into moans of arousal.
A heady sort of pleasure envelops me. I’m so aroused I’m sure I’ll leave a large wet spot on the sheets. But still, he doesn’t touch me where I want him most. I knew he wouldn’t. He’s not one to change his mind. But my body still hoped.
Then I hear him groan in my ear, and his thrusts grow deeper, and faster.
Renewed pain pierces through the fog of desire and causes me to tense around him.
That only turns him on more. All restraint is gone as he pumps into me, his balls slapping against my ass, his hands threading through my hair.
It’s so intense all I can do is lie under him and take it, pain turning to pleasure and back to pain.
Then it all muddles into liquid heat that makes my insides curl as he deepens his thrusts, speeding up then shuddering and coming to a standstill.
A moment later, thick ropes of cum fill me.
He crashes down on top of me, still spasming within me, embraces me passionately, then withdraws, the rest of his cum coating my ass and upper thighs.
He grabs a few tissues from the nightstand, cleans us both, and then lies back on top of me, his arms embracing my helpless body.
Some part of me is frustrated, because he didn’t let me come.
But a much deeper part revels in the giddy happiness of having given him pleasure.
I suddenly understand all those times he seemed so content to make me come without ever giving his own body release.
I close my eyes, the shackles around my wrists making me feel inexplicably safe. Nearly as safe as his warm arms, as he wraps them around my shivering body.
It’s very strange that losing control makes me feel safe. I spent all my life frantically holding on to every thread of control I could as a way to protect myself. And now I have none, and it makes me feel peaceful.
But not for long, as Damien suddenly darts up.
“What is it?” I gasp as all my fears return.
But his smirk as he meets my eye makes me breathe easier.
“Just realized what time it is. Twelve o’clock.”
I stare at him in confusion.
“It’s a new day,” he smiles. “Not your wedding night anymore. Good morning, my sweet bride.”
He pulls my body, still partially immobilized by the handcuffs, to him, and kisses me gently.
“I said you weren’t coming last night, but I didn’t say a thing about this morning,” he murmurs, and as I take in his meaning, my belly tingles with need.
He flips me onto my back and a moment later, I’m moaning loudly as he brings his mouth down on the bundle of nerves between my legs.
A few laps of his tongue on my clit are all it takes for me to come.
As I do, he plunges a curled finger into my pussy, and I cry out as the orgasm intensifies, electricity shooting through my bones as he finger-fucks me hard.
Then I sag limply against the mattress, but he doesn’t let me off so easily.
He keeps going, setting into a rhythm that makes me cry in overstimulation, before the wave starts to build again.
It crashes over me, again and again, before he finally shows mercy, his mouth and fingers leaving me as I lie limply on the mattress, my breath coming in quick and heavy.
“How’s that for a wedding morning?” he chuckles, then kisses me deeply, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth and tasting all of me before biting down on my lower lip.
The kiss seems to make him hard again, and in spite of my overstimulated state, I find myself wanting more.
He seems on the verge of giving in, but then he pulls back regretfully.
“We have a long trip ahead of us. We really should get some sleep.”
His words make the fears return, but they’re muddled and vague, lost in the after-waves of my orgasms. Still, they worry me just enough that I don’t insist.
He nestles against me once more.
“Sleep, my darling,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing circles on my back.
Before I know it, I’m obeying him.