Ella
My legs trembled even as my arms stayed rigid from gripping the bed too tightly. My brain didn’t know which way to turn. My nipples ached, and any attempt to move—any effort to relieve one part of me—only reignited the pain somewhere else.
The mask forced me to focus on his touch. That made me move.
And moving brought the sharp, vicious pain straight back to my nipples.
His hand rested at the base of my spine. I froze and waited. It was impossible to tell how long I’d been suspended in this torturous loop. The warmth of his palm seeped into me, grounding me.
I took slow, deep breaths and exhaled.
“That’s it. Relax for me,” he murmured, pressing the fat, blunt head of his cock against my arse. “Show me what a good arse slut you’ve become.”
“I need it so bad,” I said in a breathy voice I didn’t recognise.
All I wanted was to feel.
To lose myself.
“Oh, sweet Ella. I know you do,” he said, pushing forward.
He was wide.
It was sore.
But I needed the pain.
Why did I need it?
I paused—forcing myself to think.
Oh. Right.
To avoid the pain in my breasts.
I held myself open for him as he eased inside, stretching me inch by inch. The burn was so very good.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“There we go. Always such a lovely, tight fit in your arse,” he sighed.
He didn’t move.
Warmth spread over me—then the first tug of the chain.
“Yeah, Ella. Squeeze my cock with your arse.”
His voice touched me in the darkness.
He tugged again. I clenched harder, gasping as my breath caught.
“Yes,” he hissed, bucking his hips against me.
He dragged himself back and slammed into me, yanking the chain. I howled—wanting to reject him and welcome him all at once.
The warmth left my back as his fingers bit into my flesh. His cock hammered into me, powerful, punishing thrusts. It didn’t take long before his heavy balls slapped against my pussy.
I couldn’t see—but I could feel everything.
The rigidity in my arms from gripping the bed.
The way his brutal thrusts made my breasts sway, the chain swinging beneath me.
Each wet slap of his balls teasing my pussy.
The bursts of air from his lungs.
The low, guttural grunts pulled from him by effort.
My heart pounded beneath my sternum.
Beating like a drum inside my skull.
“Alec,” I gasped.
I didn’t know why.
“It’s okay to let go, Ella,” he rasped. “It’s okay to accept what you are.”
His long, heavy thrusts continued—vicious, relentless.
“What am I?” I whimpered.
He leaned over me, pausing deep inside.
When he ripped the clips from my nipples, I screamed.
He groaned and slammed into me again—harder, deeper.
“Ours,” he roared as I locked down on him.
I squeezed hard enough to feel every inch of him invading my guts.
And then I came—so violently my legs went weak, my pussy spasming uncontrollably.
Hot seed spilled from him with a raw grunt.
“Our hot little whore,” he gasped, holding me tight against him.
“Our toy,” he sighed.
My head dropped forward.
My fingers ached—but I didn’t let go of the bed.
I knew Ella Constantine no longer existed.
A sharp pang hit my chest, stealing my breath.
But only for a moment.
?
?
?
A soft kiss on my shoulder pulled me back to the present. The sharp prickle of his beard made me inhale sharply.
“You can let go of the bed now, Ella.”
His voice was gentle—almost caring.
I released the bed, my fingers aching as I cautiously stretched them.
He tugged at the ties of the mask.
I lifted my hands and pressed my palms over it.
“Please. Leave it. Just a little longer,” I breathed.
I couldn’t face the bright light.
Or Alec.
“Okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
He shifted us carefully, and I went with him—his cock still buried in my arse. He sat down, then lifted me with him, shuffling us onto our sides before pulling the covers over us.
“Sleep before the night shift starts,” he murmured, settling in behind me.
I touched the soft leather of the mask and wondered if he’d let me keep it on tonight.
This way, I wouldn’t have to face anyone.
Especially myself.
I sighed as his fingers closed around my throat.
My eyes shut.
Sleep took me almost immediately.