CHAPTER THIRTY #3
My nails dig into his thighs as he uses my mouth, rough and relentless, the chain biting my neck every time he drags me deeper.
He doesn’t let up until I’m gagging on him, spit and cum dripping off my chin, staining the wood below and still—still—he smirks down at me like I’m exactly where I belong.
“You’ll walk away from this bridge with your throat raw, your pussy wrecked, and my seed dripping out of you,” he says, voice sharp as a blade. “So every time you try to pretend you’re free, you’ll remember—you’re not. You’re mine.”
The necklace cuts my throat raw when he jerks it tighter, the chain grinding into my skin until I whimper. He laughs, low and dark, grinding his cock down my throat like I’m nothing but a hole.
“Pretty little Butterfly,” he growls, spit dripping from my lips as I gag, choking around him. “You thought you could walk away clean? No. You leave this bridge ruined. You leave it branded.”
My eyes stream, spit bubbling down my chin, and he fucking loves it. He fists my hair, pulling back just long enough for me to gasp before shoving back down, harder.
“Show me you love it,” he snarls, hips snapping, cock slamming against the back of my throat. “Show me how much you love choking on what owns you.”
My nails claw the wood, my knees bruised, and I choke out a sound that’s half sob, half moan. He grins like a devil, dragging me up by the chain until I’m gasping, lips swollen, spit stringing from my chin.
“Good little whore,” he says, thumb smearing the mess across my cheek. “Now open wide.”
I obey, trembling.
He fists himself hard, stroking rough, veins bulging, his gaze locked on me like a predator. “Hands behind your back. Tongue out.”
I obey again.
“Stay like that. Don’t move.”
He jerks harder, snarling, and then he spills—hot, filthy, endless—across my tongue, my face, dripping down my throat. I gag, choking, but he grabs my chin, forcing my mouth shut.
“Swallow,” he orders, voice a wrecked growl. “Every drop.”
I do. Tears streaming, mascara smeared, my throat burning as I gulp down everything he gives me. He wipes the rest across my lips with his cock, smearing it into me until I’m coated, dripping, marked.
“Lick it up.”
I drag my tongue across my lips, licking myself clean while his eyes burn into mine.
“Fuck,” he groans, tilting his head back, chain glinting on his neck like a crown. “Look at you. Cum-streaked, ruined, perfect.”
Then he yanks me up by the necklace, slams me back into the railing, and shoves two fingers between my thighs, rough and filthy, spreading me wide. “You’re still leaking me,” he snarls, shoving the wetness up into me with his own fingers. “Say it. Say you’ll never stop dripping for me.”
“I’ll never stop,” I gasp, broken. “I’ll never stop dripping for you.”
His smirk is feral. His voice a vow. “Good. Because from tonight on, Butterfly—this bridge belongs to us. Every time you walk past it, you’ll remember whose cunt you are.”
The necklace digs in when he yanks me forward, snapping the chain against his throat like a leash, dragging me down. My knees slam the boards again, wood cutting into skin, and he kicks my thighs apart until I’m spread, exposed, trembling.
“On all fours,” he snarls. “Face down. Ass up. Show me.”
I obey, palms flat, cheek grinding into the dirty wood, tears streaking hot down my face. The night air bites at my skin, every bruise, every wet patch of me on display.
He crouches behind me, spit hissing when it hits my asshole, cold and filthy. His thumb smears it in, rough, unforgiving, pressing until my body jerks.
“Yeah,” he growls, voice low and savage. “This hole’s mine too.”
I whimper, shaking, but he doesn’t stop. Two fingers slam into my pussy—slick, wet, obscene—before he drags them out and shoves them against my other hole, stretching, forcing, until I’m gasping, clawing the wood for something to hold onto.
“You’re not just my Butterfly,” he hisses, forcing me wider. “You’re my fucking toy. Every hole, every bruise, every drop—mine to use. Mine to ruin.”
“Dax—” My voice cracks, shame and heat tangling.
“Say it,” he snarls, slapping my ass hard enough the sound cracks into the night. “Say this ass belongs to me.”
“It’s yours,” I choke. “It’s only yours.”
He laughs, cruel and hot, pushing deeper until my body trembles around him. “That’s right. Good little whore.”
He pulls his fingers free, smearing slick mess over my skin, dragging it up my spine, marking me everywhere. Then his cock grinds between my cheeks, heavy and hard, sliding over both holes until I’m whimpering like an animal.
“You’ll remember this bridge,” he growls, pressing the tip against my ass, just enough for my body to seize. “Every time you sit. Every time you walk. You’ll remember who split you open here.”
I sob, broken and aching, but my body clenches, craving, begging without words.
“Dirty little Butterfly,” he snarls, yanking my hair until my throat arches, chain burning my neck. “Beg me for it.”
The head of his cock breaches me before I can breathe. White-hot, brutal, splitting me open where I’ve never been taken, burning through every nerve.
I scream. The sound rips through the night, echoing off the water, raw and broken.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. His grip on my hair tightens, chain sawing into my throat as he forces every savage inch into me, tearing a sob from my chest.
“Shut the fuck up, Butterfly,” he snarls, hips snapping forward until his balls slap against me, deep, too deep. “Cry louder and I’ll make them all hear how I own you.”
The burn sears, relentless, my body trembling, fighting, failing. He drags out halfway, then slams back in, harder, vicious, his cock punching through resistance until I’m shaking apart.
“God—Dax—” My voice splinters, shattered.
“Say it.” His hand smashes across my ass, the sting mixing with the stretch until I sob harder. “Say this ass is mine.”
“It’s yours,” I choke, cheek grinding into the wood. “Only yours.”
He growls, feral, pounding me faster, deeper, each thrust bruising, obscene, the slap of skin loud against the quiet night. “Fucking right. My hole. My whore. My Butterfly.”
Every movement drags fire through me, but beneath the pain there’s a brutal, dark ache twisting into need, tearing me open in more ways than one.
His breath scalds my ear as he bends low, still driving into me like he’s carving his name inside. “You’ll never forget this. Every time you sit, every time you move—you’ll remember my cock splitting your ass on this bridge.”
And God help me—he’s right.
His thrusts get rougher, reckless, like he’s trying to hammer me straight through the wood. My nails snap against the planks, throat strangled by the necklace chain, tears streaking down my cheeks.
“You hear that?” His voice is a growl in my ear, cruel and jagged. His cock slams deep, harder, meaner, making me scream. “That’s the sound of your ass giving up for me. That’s the sound of mine.”
“Please—”
“Please what?” He yanks my head back by the chain until I’m arched, choking, eyes streaming. “You begging me to stop, or begging me to ruin you deeper?”
I sob, words slurred, broken. “Deeper—fuck—”
“Say it clear.” His hips crash into me, brutal. “Say you want me to split you open.”
“I want it—God—I want you to split me open!”
His laugh is savage, vicious. “Good fucking girl.”
His hand shoves between my thighs, grinding my clit while he keeps battering me from behind. The shock of pain and filthy pleasure rips me wide open, body convulsing as I break apart, screaming his name.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow. His cock pistons harder, his growl hot against my ear. “Cum on my cock, on my fist, on the fucking bridge. Let them hear it. Let the whole world know you’re nothing but mine.”
My body obeys, helpless, convulsing around him, juices soaking my thighs, mixing with the pain as I collapse forward, sobbing, shaking.
He snarls, slamming deeper, hips bruising against me. “Whose ass is this?”
“Yours—fuck—it’s yours, Dax!”
“Whose hole do I own?”
“Yours! All of me—yours!”
“That’s fucking right.” He drives one final brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, cock twitching, exploding inside me. His growl shreds the night as he empties himself, holding me down by the chain, forcing me to take it all.
When he finally lets me collapse, I’m shaking, ruined, dripping down my thighs, his cum hot inside me, my throat raw from screaming.
He drags the necklace tight once more, forcing my tear-streaked face up to meet his. His eyes are feral, wild.
“Look at you,” he sneers, breath hot, cock still throbbing inside me. “Broken. Branded. Exactly how you were meant to be.”
He doesn’t pull out. Not yet. He stays buried, the chain biting into my throat as he keeps me pinned, cock still hard, still pulsing inside me. My sobs shake against the planks, but he drags my head back until I’m arched, his mouth right at my ear.
“You think I’m done with you, Butterfly?” His voice is low, lethal. “You think one little orgasm means you get to breathe?”
I shake my head, choking. “N-no—”
His hand fists in my hair, yanking so hard my scalp screams. “Say it. Say you don’t get to breathe unless I let you.”
Tears burn hot down my cheeks. “I don’t—I don’t get to breathe unless you let me.”
“Good girl.” His cock grinds deeper, sharp, brutal. “Now thank me. Thank me for ruining you.”
My stomach twists, shame burning, but his chain bites harder, forcing the words out. “Th-thank you.”
His laugh is jagged, vicious. “Not good enough.” He thrusts hard, punishing. “Say thank you for breaking me. Thank you for owning me. Thank you for being the only reason I even fucking exist.”
I sob, voice splintered. “Thank you for breaking me. Thank you for owning me. Thank you for—God—being the only reason I exist.”