Chapter 25 #3
The orgasm ripped through me, immediate and extremely intense.
I sobbed into the bed as my ass clenched around his cock, and he thrust deep, over and over again, dragging out my orgasm and punishing me through it with every thick inch of him.
I whimpered and cried and moaned, but still he didn’t stop fucking me and I realized then that the belt had only been the beginning.
This was the true punishment.
He fucked my ass even harder then. It hurt, but I knew it was meant to.
He was punishing me with pleasure and pain and pleasure again until my virgin hole was on fire and I was begging him to stop and not stop.
Then when I was so sensitive that every stroke felt like a jolt of electricity, he fucked me harder, his hand still on my clit, and I came again with an exhausted scream and felt tears stream down my cheeks.
It hurt so much I was desperate for him to stop, but he was a man who knew that when punishing a girl’s bottom, it wasn’t over until he was completely satisfied and she was one very sorry little girl.
He made sure to do both.
Finally, I felt his rhythm falter, and I felt the thick heat of his cock pulse inside me. He groaned deep in his chest, and with a final deep thrust, he started to come. The sensation of his hot cum filling my sore ass was the most intense, overwhelming thing I had ever felt.
I came one last time. I couldn’t help it.
I collapsed onto the bed completely, my body shaking with aftershocks, my ass throbbing and full and marked by him in the most intimate way. He collapsed over me, careful of his weight, his cock still buried deep inside me, and his arms wrapped around me.
We stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, he shifted, pulling out of me slowly, gently, and I whimpered at the loss of him.
He rolled me onto my side and pulled me against his chest, and I tucked my face into his neck and breathed him in, smelling his scent, feeling the solid warmth of him, and I felt safe in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
He held me quietly. He didn’t say anything and I just listened to the steady beat of his heart against my ear.
After a while, I whispered, “Thank you, Daddy.”
He kissed the top of my head. “You’re welcome, my perfect little girl.
” He paused for a long moment and cleared his throat before he spoke again.
“I love you. I will always love every defiant stubborn moment with you. I will love you when you’re naughty and I will love you when you are good and I will love all that is you forever and for always. ”
In that moment, I felt whole, and I realized something.
I was in love with Ivan Morozov too.
I was in love with a man who had hunted me down and done my crossword and stolen my pen, who had sat at his desk through the night and built me a weapon while I slept, who had put me over his knee so that he could spank me and then across his bed for a taste of his belt with the same unhurried certainty he brought to every other important thing in his life.
I was in love with a man whose brothers were a collective hazard and whose patience had no edges and whose apartment now had my desktop beside his and the pen he had returned sitting on the shared desk between us.
I was not going to say all of that out loud tonight. I was, however, going to stop lying to myself about it, which I had technically already done, so really the work was complete.
I turned over.
He was looking at the ceiling with the specific expression of a man who had reached a conclusion and was waiting.
“Ivan,” I said.
“Yes.”
“I’m still going to be difficult. You’re probably going to have to spank me a lot. Maybe even every day.”
“Yes.”
“About the apartment. About the surveillance. About your brothers, probably. About work.”
“Yes,” he said. “I expect nothing less.”
“And I’m going to test you again. Probably on purpose. Possibly tomorrow.”
The corner of his mouth moved. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“And every time I test you, I am going to expect you to be my daddy and hold me accountable.”
He turned to look at me.
“I will always take care of you, little girl, whether that means taking you over my knee and spanking your perfect little bottom bright red or holding you in my arms and telling you how much I love you,” he replied.
I looked at him for a long moment. I thought about the pen on the desk. The crossword with three answers in handwriting that wasn’t mine. I thought about Daniel’s name on page thirty-one of a federal indictment.
“I love you too, Daddy,” I said.
His eyes softened. He leaned down and kissed me slowly. When he pulled back, he said, “Then the work tomorrow will be easier.”
I laughed. “You think I’m going to let you sleep tonight?”
He gave me a look that was half indulgent, half pure threat, and it was the single most attractive thing I had ever seen.
Tomorrow, we would work.
But tonight, Ivan held me, and I let him, and the last thing I thought before sleep was that I was exactly where I belonged and I was good with that.