Chapter 14 #3
“I don’t like when someone takes my things without permission, darling, and this pussy belongs to me,” he says in that dark way of his, making me moan out around the apple that I’m trying my hardest not to bite through. Desperate for more attention, more play, more everything.
“It’s yours, just—please, more,” I practically shout around it, trying my best not to bite down on the apple. Words slurred around its tart flesh.
His tongue returns to my folds, and I grind against his tongue.
“Maybe I should take your other hole tonight, darling, you are such a good girl. I think you’ve earned the right to a little more pain,” he mumbles into my pussy, making me contract against the emptiness inside me.
I’m dying to be filled again, overwhelmed with the need to be fucked so hard I pass out.
“Do you want more pain, darling?” He asks as he swirls his tongue around my clit in a way that makes me shudder. I’m so close.
“Please give me everything. I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I’ll—” I can't even finish, I’m quaking, nearly bitten through the apple. Drool is sliding down both sides of my cheeks.
I never thought that would be something I would crave. Something I wholeheartedly desire. To have all of my walls and boundaries stripped down. To be turned into a woman who is begging for direction, lost, and reliant on the demands of her demented captor.
I arch my back up and let out a frustrated puff of air, making him laugh out loud.
“Oh, my little wife is so needy tonight.” He says, standing up and grabbing both my wrists. His comment makes me drip even more onto the table, my pussy impossibly wet from the spanking and the tongue fucking.
Untying his bowtie, he wraps it perfectly around the space between my wrists and forearms, then he violently tugs me forward, all delicate movements gone and replaced with decisive force. He’s aching for me now, I can tell.
It gets me the most when he’s losing control. There's a sickness in me that’s obsessed with watching him unravel—the perfect and controlled Hayden Herron, unraveling for me.
He pulls me off the table and flips me over, so my weight is on my full breasts and arms, causing me to bite into the apple a little deeper. I’m in risky territory now, with my teeth nearly too far through the apple to continue biting it.
I watch him pull a small bottle from his pocket; it’s small and full of clear liquid.
Using his fingers, he smears my wetness from my pussy to the tight bundle of nerves in my back hole and then pours a bit of the liquid too.
Satisfied with the amount of my arousal and clear goo he’s traced around my asshole, he pushes forward and breaches the tight ring of muscle with his thumb.
He’s gentle, not trying to cause me pain, but trying to make sure he prepares me.
In and out he thrusts.
At first, it’s painful, so painful I can barely stand it.
I press my thighs together and whimper around the apple.
Knowing that he’s not completely trying to hurt me, but there’s nothing he can do about the burn.
But thrust after thrust, the odd pressure in my abdomen convincing me I need to use the restroom fades, and pleasure coils in my stomach instead.
I’m full of fear and anticipation, but one thing is for sure: I know I’m terrified to take him in my ass.
“I’ll try my best to go slow, darling, but I can’t promise you this won't hurt,” he whispers, working his thumb in and out of my asshole while he works his other two fingers in and out of my pussy.
“You’d like it if it hurt, though, baby, wouldn’t you?”
I feel so full as I cry out against the apple, trying my damndest not to bite through.
“Hold on tight, darling,” he grits out, as I feel his cock nudge my front entrance. With a painfully slow and horribly delicate push, he works his thick cock inside of my pussy. Fucking into me back and forth with ease from how wet I am. God, he’s enormous.
As he bottoms out to the hilt, I feel a sharp pain as he knocks into my cervix. I cry out in a sob, tears pricking my eyes from the girth of him.
I quiver around his hardness, confused that he entered me here, but before I can comprehend why, he’s pulling out and placing the head of his cock at the entrance to my ass.
I whimper, hissing in a breath at the feeling of him trying to enter. I’m slick with my arousal and the sticky lubricant, but it’s barely aiding him in entering me because of the enormous size of his cock.
I’m overwhelmed with emotions I can’t fully comprehend. Somewhere between everything racing through my head and coursing through my veins, I’ve lost track of how I feel. I feel desire in my goddamn spirit and soul.
One hand comes up to the back of my neck and squeezes, and the weight of it is comforting. I’ve grown accustomed to his obsession with holding me there. Collaring me like a dog with his palm.
The side of my cheek smashes onto the dining table, his hand firm at the back of my neck, holding me still. I can’t help but grind back against him. Chasing those small flutters of pleasure between all of the uncomfortable pain.
He pushes in harder, forcing me to take his long cock in my ass, and tears fill my eyes. Reaching down with the other hand, he begins to swirl soft and slow circles on my clitoris, sending confusing shock waves through my overstimulated body.
The pleasure from his slow circles makes me flutter again, edging me closer to the orgasm I’ve been cresting on for the last half hour.
His cock, trying to force its way into my ass, is grounding me, sending pain through me in a way that makes me catch my breath.
I wiggle, trying to release the pressure that’s now creeping into my arms from the weight of my body.
The opposing feelings, the intensity of it, overwhelm me. He dips two fingers inside of me and begins finger fucking that delicious place deep inside, curving his fingers and rubbing against that spot that feels so fucking incredible. My toes curl as he works his way into my behind.
With a rush, I cum on his hand, unsure of when the orgasm finally breaks free. Too lost in the feeling of it all to keep track.
He softly mumbles praise as I try to rock back on the cock that’s half stuffed in my tightest entrance. I want to feel his hard thrusts in and out of me. Wanting more pain with my pleasure. God, it hurts so bad, and I’m addicted to the pain; my toes curl from it.
“That’s it, darling. Give me all of your cum,” he pants, continuing his finger fucking assault and bringing me to another crashing orgasm. I scream around the apple, practically choking on the saliva that’s pooled in my mouth. “Show me what a fucking whore you are for my cock.”
I quiver and shake, the tears in my eyes falling in heavy streams, covering my face in another layer of wetness along with my drool.
I feel like I’m being torn in half from behind, and when he finally bottoms out inside of me, I scream so loud the apple falls from my mouth, ending the vision of me looking like a stuffed pig full of cock, fingers, and apple, laid out as an offering on this dining room table.
I crave his harsh hand, his cruel thrusts. I feel worshipped by his degradation because there is no one else I’d ever accept it from. With every cruel and punishing thrust, I find him wrapping himself into the depths of the darkness inside of me.
He begins to fuck my ass so roughly I can't hold back my cries. Sobbing from the pain and pleasure of it all. It feels as good as it hurts. It’s all too much.
“You’re bleeding a little, my darling, but I’ll take care of you after,” he promises, barely gritting out the words as he takes his own pleasure from me.
I rock back on his fingers that are bringing me to another orgasm, my third if I’m counting correctly. I feel my body relax more and more with each time I come, but the confusion that fogs my mind makes me feel lost in the feelings of it all. I'm delirious on pain and pleasure.
“Pleaaaaaaase,” I moan out. Just begging for him. For anything.
I beg, and I pray. I’m so close to coming again, but the release is just out of reach.
With each thrust, he rocks me forward, bruising my hips against the table, ripping and tearing through my body with painful thrusts and the need to come.
“Please, please, pleasseeeee…” I keep begging loudly. Panting and begging for what, I don’t know. Release from this hate fuck? Release from the pleasure that’s taken over my body?
“It's okay, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, darling,” he soothes, squeezing my neck harder, somehow knowing what I’m begging for but am too scared to ask.
He squeezes and squeezes, making me see stars, as my pussy clamps down again on his fingers, finally finding release. With a loud yell, he pulls out and cums all over my ass, my back, my hair, and the side of my face. Covering me in his cum, marking me as his.
With a terrifying look on his face, he leans forward, panting, lost to his orgasm as much as I’m lost to mine, like he didn’t just fuck my ass until I was bleeding, and licks the tears off of my cheek.
With one gasp of a word, his finger tightens even more on my neck, and I pass out just moments after he mumbles the most certain word I’ve ever heard muttered in my life.
“Mine.”