Chapter 3
Harley
I cry, fighting the belt binding my hands, my head throbbing from the heat and terror and tears. The belt holds, and my fear gives way when Emit calls me wife , reminding me of what he’s cost me. Taken against my will what I had been saving for the sweet, gentle, loving husband I had been dreaming about.
It doesn’t matter how fucking amazing it feels to have his thick cock inside me after already making me cum with his tongue and fingers. Fury explodes, spurring me into motion so fast he doesn’t see it coming when I curl forward and bite down on his bottom lip harder than he bit me, trying to rip it off his face.
Emit’s expression turns feral as he growls, and he grips my throat, squeezing it until I’m forced to let go of his lip. As soon as I gasp for air, he relaxes the hand around my neck and weirdly gives me a peck on the lips.
“Don’t do that, baby, or Daddy will have to make you bleed for being a bad girl.”
My aching pussy pulses around him, and I pant. “Emit…please—”
“Oh yeah, keep begging for me, baby. I love it. Crave it.” Emit pulls his hips back and pushes into me gently, in and out, until I’m stretched enough to take those last few inches without any pain or resistance.
“Why?” I cry even as I drop my head back and roll my hips, moaning loudly with his next thrust. “Why are you doing this to me? To get back at Luther?”
“I don’t give a shit about Luther. He sure as shit never cared about me.” That last sentence is punctuated by a slightly harder thrust.
“You’re punishing me because of him!”
“Does this feel like a punishment, Harley?” Lights flicker in and out of my vision as pleasure skyrockets when Emit wraps an arm around my back to hold me to his chest as he fucks me with more ease. He kisses me, whispering in a husky voice against my lips, “You hear that sloppy, wet sound your pussy makes every time I fill you? With the way you’re dripping for me…I’d say you’re enjoying it. Loving it even.”
I moan at his long, deep strokes, and he’s right. I’ve played enough with myself to know what it feels and sounds like when my body is primed for an earth-shattering orgasm. I shake my head yet arch my back as much as I can under his weight, loving the way the tip of his dick rubs along a particular spot deep inside me with every thrust of his hips.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I lie, my high-pitched moan giving me away, pressure building in my lower stomach, heat radiating out from my core as my breathing rapidly accelerates. I flex my hips, urging Emit to go faster.
“Bullshit. You’re mine, and you know it. You wanted a husband, and now you’ve got one.” He says it so gently, adoringly, just as I dreamed of hearing one day from the man who would cherish me forever. He moans at his own words as his cock swells larger.
My mind spins, too overwhelmed by the orgasm I’m fast approaching to make sense of anything. And so I stop trying, accepting my fate for now since I can’t go back in time and change course as my stomach caves in and my toes curl. “Emit, oh god, right there, right there!”
“You feel so good, baby.” His rhythm falters as he pushes deeper, deeper, deeper, his chest heaving with exertion and lust.
“Are you going to cum?” My inner walls tighten around him, wondering if he’ll pull out in time.
“Fuck yes, I am. Going to stuff your little pussy with everything I’ve got.”
I cry out, jerking my hips up at his words. I turn my face into Emit’s, rubbing my cheek against his like a kitten as I lift and lock my ankles around his back, wishing I could free my hands—not to fight him off or try to escape, but to hug him tight as I go over the peak of my climax, sobbing out his name brokenly through a dry throat.
“That’s it, Harley. Cum for your Daddy. For your husband.”
The last of my energy fizzles out, my vision turning black with the intensity of my orgasm, and I breathe out his name before I slip out of consciousness.