Chapter 9
Tuesday drifted somewhere outside herself, held together only by the ropes and every throbbing, pulsing, burning pain that had become her whole world.
The ropes on her upper torso bearing so much of her weight, the strain on her leg bearing the rest of it.
Every pull of the weight dragged her ankle down, yanking her leg around.
The crushing pressure of the clamps on her nipples and clit was far past unbearable.
Those excruciating sensations could no longer be classified as either pleasure or pain, but were the only thing keeping her anchored in the moment, keeping her from dissolving completely into the misty dark.
There was no past, no future, no thoughts — just the ropes, the agonizing sensations, and the distant, comforting knowledge that he was still there, still touching her.
Still working her over as only he could.
But then his fingers were at her face, and he removed the earmuffs first, then the blindfold.
Even the dim evening light stabbed her eyes through her eyelids after so many hours in total darkness. She squeezed them shut, but the pain still stabbed at her brain.
Her leg relaxed a little, no longer pulled so far out to the side. She felt herself being lowered and opened her eyes a quick second to confirm before squeezing them closed again. It was too bright to be sure. Her eyes needed to adjust.
When she felt the mat on her belly, she was certain, and she was relieved to be flat on it, with no wedge arching her back and forcing her head up, where she had to use exhausted neck muscles to hold it.
A wave of relief washed through her along with profound disappointment when she realized this likely meant the scene was ending. She was beyond exhausted and relief should’ve easily won, but it didn’t. No matter her fatigue, she wasn’t ready for it to end.
He was gone a second, then back, and gentle hands rolled her over. It was awkward, with her arms locked at the small of her back, but he soon made her forget that when he yanked the clamps from her nipples.
The rush of blood back into her crushed nipples was pure fire, pulsing in vicious white-hot waves that made her arch and gasp. He watched her face the entire time, inches away, drinking in every flicker of agony.
She had her eyes open a little now, enough to see his face. No longer afforded the distance the blindfold provided, she was forced to accept the intimacy of the moment. Knife saw everything, and there was no way to hide.
Before she could catch her breath, he removed the clit clamp.
This pain was so much fucking worse. A blazing, crushing burn that made her yelp and then scream, fresh tears spilling down her temples. He held her gaze through it all, dark eyes locked on hers, letting her see that he was right there with her in the wreckage.
Then he lifted her legs, pressing her knees toward her ears, folding her in half. The huge plug in her ass shifted painfully with the new angle and screamed a reminder it was there. He lined up and drove into her pussy in one hard thrust.
It was too much.
Her hips screamed at being folded and spread after so many hours of hanging in a position designed to stress them at awkward angles.
Her nipples and clit were on fire, every nerve ending raw and screaming.
The massive plug in her ass made her feel impossibly full, and his fat dick pounded her without mercy.
She was a sobbing, shaking mess, completely exposed, unable to hide a single tear or broken sound.
And he wouldn’t let her look away.
He growled out, “Look at me,” while he fucked her hard and deep, punctuating his thrusts with his words. “You don’t get to hide. Not from this. Not from me. Open your motherfucking eyes and fucking look at me.”
She got them fully open because refusing that kind of order wasn’t an option. Her body obeyed without her brain even needing to engage.
“You are mine now,” he said, voice rough with possession. “Every joint in your body is mine. Every nerve ending, and most importantly, every hole in your body belongs to me.”
The declaration hit deeper than any pain he’d given her all day, and his words sank into her soul. She was no longer just a body in ropes. He not only saw her, he understood her, and in the process, he owned her in a way no one ever had before.
He’d ravaged her body all day: devastated raw nerve endings; stretched and over-stretched sensitive tissues; struck her legs and ass with multiple implements; clamped, unclamped, tortured, and reclamped her most sensitive bits.
But his words drilled into her deeper than any physical act ever could.
And her wolf circled inside her and then lay down, completely at peace, utterly satisfied.
The bitch had known they belonged to him from the first moment, and she was completely satisfied with his words.
It took her beyond the need to submit and obey to prove the connection.
In her eyes, this was proof they were home.
But Tuesday was still in the storm of emotions, and tears poured down her face while her breathing was racked with huge, choking sobs. The emotions were too big and completely tangled together — relief, surrender, love, terror, joy, and inescapable intimacy.
She was falling apart beneath him, while he just kept moving, kept fucking her, as if it was perfectly normal for her to break completely open and fall apart while he hammered her with his cock.
And then came the werewolf trick, and his cock swelled inside her until it was impossibly thick, stretching already tender muscles until it felt as if he was bigger around than a coke can.
He only pulled out a handful of inches now before battering back into her, and each thrust ground against her raw clit while shifting the giant plug around in her ass.
She could only open her mouth in a silent scream, but he growled out, “Come,” and her body heard him before her mind could process the order.
She came hard, sobbing, body trying to convulse around the granite thickness holding her wide open, spasms working out from her groin until her entire body jerked and rippled. It didn’t last terribly long, but he said, “Again.”
Another orgasm tore through her, this one stronger. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe, but her body kept obeying, kept giving him everything.
He fucked her through orgasm after orgasm, holding her folded and open, eyes locked on hers. He kept demanding she come for him while she shattered, and this was the final proof.
Even wrecked, even sobbing, her body belonged to him. Every time.
And in that overwhelming moment, with nothing left to protect herself with, something deeper happened.
Their auras merged — not just brushing against each other, but actually locking together and merging into one. She felt it in her soul, a key turning in a lock she hadn’t known existed inside her. He’d held the key to her very being all along, and he’d finally figured out how to use it.
He owned her now in a way he hadn’t even seconds before, but it meant, by locking them together, he didn’t just own her.
They owned each other now. They belonged to each other. Completely. Irrevocably.
She came one final time with a raw, broken cry that felt like it came from the center of her soul. He followed her over with a deep growl, pulsing hot and thick inside her while the connection between them burned brighter than anything she’d ever felt.
When it finally eased, he stayed buried deep, forehead pressed to hers, both of them breathing hard.
They were no longer merely sadist and masochist, but owner and owned. She was completely and irrevocably his, in every way a person can belong to another. And he, whether he’d ever say the words or not, was also totally, absolutely hers.