Chapter Ten #2
I rolled my hips in a slow, filthy grind that dragged the head of my cock over the spot that made her thighs shake. Her answer came out broken.
“It feels like you’re trying to fuck the hate out of me.”
I laughed against her mouth, dark and low. “Is it working?”
“No.” She clenched around me on purpose. “Do it harder and ask again.”
“Greedy wife.” I slammed back into the hilt. “You hate me so much you’re milking my cock for more. Keep talking. I like the way your voice breaks when I’m this deep.”
She moaned so sweetly.
My voice stayed cold even as heat built at the base of my spine. “I want your eyes while I fill you. I want you to know exactly who is doing this.”
She forced her gaze up. Her walls tightened in rhythmic waves.
I felt the exact moment the first orgasm began to build in her.
I did not slow. I angled deeper, grinding against the place that made her cry out, and watched her come apart on my cock while the leash stayed locked in my fist. The sight of her climaxing under me, beautiful and wrecked and collared, pulled a low groan from my chest before I could stop it.
She shattered with a cry, body locking down around me so hard it nearly pulled my own release forward.
The cream made every sensation sharper for both of us.
Her orgasm milked me in long helpless waves.
I held back by force of will alone, but the effort cost me.
She was too beautiful like this. Too perfect.
“Again,” I said against her mouth, thrusting deep and steady. “Your body is ready. You will come as many times as I decide before I fill you, right?”
She glared up at me through tears and pleasure. “You’re a controlling bastard.”
“And you’re soaking the sheets for me.” I rubbed her clit harder. “Say something meaner. It only makes me fuck you deeper.”
“I hope you trip over the leash and choke to death on it.”
I grinned, sharp and hungry. “There’s my girl. Come for the man you want dead.”
The second orgasm hit harder than the first, her walls clamping down in violent flutters that finally dragged a low rough sound from my chest. I watched every second of it.
The way her blue eyes went blind for a moment.
The way her full lips parted on a silent cry.
The way her long hair stuck to her damp skin. I did not stop.
“Count them,” I growled against her ear, still buried deep, cream making every stroke filthy and loud. “Out loud. I want to hear how many times this pretty pussy has come on my cock tonight while you’re locked in my collar.”
She shook her head, voice broken. “I can’t…”
“You can. Or I stop.” I pulled almost all the way out and held there, the head of my cock stretching her entrance. “Count, Rena.”
“Two,” she whispered.
I slammed back in. “Louder.”
“Two!”
“Good girl.” I set a brutal pace, chasing the third. “When you come again you’re going to ask me to breed you properly. No more quiet little moans. I want the words. I want you begging for my cum like the wife I paid thirty-five million dollars for would.”
Her third orgasm hit hard. She sobbed the words against my throat, broken and filthy: “P-Please. Please, please breed me, Matteo, fill me. I need it…”
She moaned.
“That’s three,” I growled against her ear. “Eyes on me while you come on the cock that owns you. I want to see those pretty blue eyes when your body admits what your mouth won’t.”
I kept the same deep claiming rhythm, chasing the fourth while she trembled and whimpered and tried to twist away from the oversensitivity.
The cream made it impossible for her to escape the pleasure.
Every stroke forced another wave through her.
I watched her face the entire time, cold and focused on the surface, burning underneath, collecting every broken expression the same way I had collected her photographs.I buried myself to the root and came with a low guttural groan, flooding her in thick endless pulses.
I stayed locked inside her, grinding deep, making certain every drop stayed.
My hand rested possessively over her lower belly, feeling the faint tremor of aftershocks moving through her.
The sight of her under me, collared, flushed, filled, the most beautiful woman I had ever touched, made the place under my ribs open wider than it ever had before.
Only then did I pull out. The loss was sudden and filthy. Cream and cum immediately leaked from her in a slow thick trickle onto the black sheets. I looked down at the mess I had made of her, swollen, used, marked, and something dark and satisfied settled in my chest.
“Try to sleep,” I said. My voice was flat again, controlled.
“The cream will keep working for several hours. Write the next entry while you wait. And if you write ‘I hate him’ one more time, make it creative. I’ll get bored of the same three words.
Let’s keep this fun for both of us. Oh, and one more thing. ”
“What now?” she sighed.
“You won’t touch yourself. Got it?””
She nodded weakly, still trembling around me.
“Words, Rena.”
“I understand,” she whispered. “I won’t… I won’t touch myself.”
“Good girl.” I finally pulled out, watched the thick mix of cream and cum leak from her, and pushed it back in with two fingers. “This stays right here. Sleep with it inside you tonight. Tomorrow we start over.”
I traced the collar with one finger while she lay trembling.
“You took me so well tonight,” I murmured, almost soft. “Look at the mess we made.”
I slid two fingers through the cream and cum leaking out of her and pushed it back inside.
“I know it hurts,” I said. “I know you hate how much your body answers. But this is the only way I know how to keep you. Until I figure out the rest.”
I kissed the corner of her mouth, gentle and filthy at the same time. “Be good for me, Rena. I’ll give you the world. Can you do that?”
“…Yes.”
“Good girl.”
At first it was quiet. A soft broken hitch of breath. Then another. Then the unmistakable sound of a sob Morena was trying and failing to keep silent. The sound grew louder, rawer, until it was no longer quiet at all.
She was crying.
I set my phone down harder than necessary and walked to her bedroom. It was late at night.
The door opened under my hand without resistance.
She was on the bed where I had left her, the sheets tangled around her bare legs, the collar locked around her throat.
The locked diary lay open beside her, the pen fallen from her fingers.
Her long black hair was a tangled mess across her face.
Those blue eyes were red and swollen. Tears streamed down her cheeks in thick tracks.
Her full soft mouth was open on quiet, helpless sobs that shook her entire body.