Chapter 25 #2
I grin at his joke, then inhale sharply when the last thread of clothing has left me.
I’m stark naked in front of him, and no matter how often that’s happened in the past—frequently in front of a Quill much more fully dressed than me, though that isn’t the case now—it’s always been pretty embarrassing to feel his eyes studying every last inch of me.
Now, it’s more embarrassing than ever, because I’m convinced he’s going to lose his hard-on permanently when he sees all my bruises.
Feebly, I lift up an arm in a sad little attempt to cover up the large bruise on my stomach, but he whips it away immediately. He pins both of my hands to my sides, and continues to study me.
I close my eyes in shame, my heart thundering so loud I wonder if he can hear it in the silence of our surroundings.
After what feels like forever, he flips me over on my stomach, still very gently but firmly.
I’m not resisting him anymore, but he still brings my arms to my back and traps both my wrists in one of his hands.
Then his fingers trace the bruises there before following a path that takes them over the swell of my ass and to my upper thighs.
I shudder with longing as his hand caresses my bottom down to my upper thigh and back up again. Even though my entire body throbs with pain, I really wish he would lift his hand up and… spank me. Smack every last pathetic thought that’s been torturing my brain away.
He seems to be struggling with the same desire, his hand lifting up a few times, then coming back down softly, caressing me again.
At last, I allow myself to relax, convinced that he’s not going to spank me, or make me come, or do any of the other things I wish he would.
But his hands on me still feel so good, and I close my eyes, determined to enjoy it.
Being Quill, that’s just when he decides to lift up his hand and let it fall, hard, on my ass.
“Ow!” I yelp.
My voice is buried under the resounding smacks he lets fall on me, turning each of my cheeks pink.
It’s not as hard as it usually is, I can tell he’s restraining himself, but damnit, does it hurt.
I wriggle in pain as he continues to punish me.
I whimper loudly at my bruised stomach hitting the soft yet unyielding lounge chair with every smack, and realizing it, he flips me around again, holding my legs up to continue the spanking.
Meanwhile, sensing me shiver, he pulls the blanket over my stomach.
I’m not shivering from the cold, though, but from embarrassment.This diaper position he’s put me in is far more humiliating, especially as his hands fall indiscriminately on my bottom, thighs and inner folds. But soon, I’ve forgotten all that, my nerves alight with pure sensation.
By the time he lets up, I’m panting, exhausted by the hard spanking, my bottom tingling with a much nicer kind of pain than the one caused by the beatings. I no longer feel any desire to apologize to him. Only to thank him, for reminding me that I’m his.
“This is my pain,” he grunts, rubbing my cheeks. “Not theirs. Fucking mine. No one has a right to hurt you. Only me. I’m going to replace all their pain with mine.”
“Yes, Quill,” I moan, as he parts my thighs and buries his face between them. “Yes, I want that.”
My core has turned to liquid desire as Quill reaches behind me, grabbing both my cheeks and digging into them with his fingers.
Each lick of his tongue against my folds sends intense flashes of heat up my spine.
Then he latches his entire mouth onto my bundle of nerves, his tongue digging deep within me, each thrust touching the spot that makes me buck and twitch uncontrollably, regardless of the bruises that have me hissing out in discomfort.
Too soon, an intense wave crashes over me, leaving me sagging against the lounge chair, panting even harder than after the spanking.
“My good girl,” praises Quill as he lies down beside me, wrapping the blanket around both of us. Despite the cold air, he feels warm. His arm twists around me and I nestle to him.
We stay like that for a long time, letting the quiet air of the countryside soothe us. I wish I could pleasure him in turn, but I guess I have to do my penance for the apologies. The thought makes me smile.
“What’s making you happy right now, cricket?” asks Quill, gently stroking the side of my face.
“You,” I murmur. “You make me happy. I love you, Quill.”
He responds by pressing his lips to mine, and mumbling in my mouth, “I love you too, little cricket.”
He lets his fingers glide over my whole body, over my breasts, my stomach, my sides, my pussy.
Then he remains there, playing distractedly with my still-swollen folds.
His touch is feather-light, but I can tell he’s not trying to deny me.
It’s like he’s doing it for comfort, so I push out a ragged breath, willing his light tickling down there not to drive me crazy.
To force my mind onto something else, I say, “You haven’t asked me all that many questions, after all.”
“Mmh-hmm.”
His eyes are hooded, and it makes me want to speak even more. I don’t want him to fall asleep now, after I’ve waited so long for him to wake up.
“You’re not even worried someone could see me naked,” I tease.
That gets him to tense up. His eyes are wide open once more as he questions, “Logan?”
“Logan’s gone,” I assure him. “He had to go back to Astley. Something about Seraphina being missing, kidnapped by Angel. You know, that organization that’s been in all the papers recently? Anyway, Logan seemed pretty beat up about the whole thing, and he told me he might not be back for a while.”
“Oh. That’s alright, then.” Quill sags back against the lounge chair, going right back to playing with my clit.
“Well, it’s not alright for Seraphina,” I point out. “I met her, and she seemed really nice.”
Not nice enough to save me, I add to myself, but I realize I’m being pretty unfair. Devil is definitely a force to be reckoned with, and it would take a lot of balls to go up against them. Especially if you’re in love with their leader.
“Sure.” He captures my earlobe, his hot breath, followed by his teeth pressing down lightly on it, doing weird tingly things to my body. “She’s nice, in any case, for indirectly helping to get rid of Logan. Dads aren’t exactly conducive to a good fuck.”
“It never seemed to stop you before,” I tease.
As I speak, I realize this is the first time I’ve made even half a joke about something tangentially related to my parents.
I wonder if that means I’m finally starting to process it. Or if I’ve just gotten really good at pushing it away.
“I get the feeling Logan would be sharp enough to notice what we’re up to no matter how many blankets I hide you under,” snorts Quill.
“Well, just for that reason, I’m glad he’s gone,” I admit. “Though I do really like him. But not in that way,” I clarify hastily.
He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose. “I think my insane over-the-top jealousy has calmed down. Kind of, at least.” He kisses me again, this time on my neck, and I shiver. “I’m glad we’re all alone. I can’t wait to fuck you in every hole and in every room, and against every tree…
“We-e-ll, we’re not entirely alone…” I begin, but interrupt myself when he thrusts a finger inside my once again wet pussy. “Oooh, Quill…”
He interprets my words as a joke, and promises teasingly, “I’ll beat up any bug or wild animal that sees us.”
“Uhm, that’s not exactly what I… oh, Qui-i-ll!”
He suddenly stills his finger inside me. “What do you mean, then? We’re not alone?”
“I’ll tell you after… keep going… fuck, fuck… oh, fuck!”
That last fuck is definitely not spoken in the exact same tone as the other ones, and Quill quickly pops out his finger with an embarrassing squelching sound, as I scramble up, causing the blanket to slide to the ground, before remembering I’m stark naked.
I try my best to hide behind Quill. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I squeak again. “Sorry! Sorry!”
Quill whips around, reaching his arms backward to shield me from whatever threat is behind us. But it’s not exactly a threat that’s mouthing apologies awkwardly.
Sagging my head against Quill’s back in pure humiliation, I feel his body stiffen as his eyes land on the very red-faced guy standing in front of us.
“Sorry,” that guy echoes my words in a stammering tone. “Sorry, Quill. Sorry.”
“What the fuck?” growls Quill. “Josh?”