Page 29 of The Education of Ivy Leavold
The arm lifted me to my elbows and knees. I was trembling again as he took his place behind me and slid his shaft into my sex. I relaxed an infinitesimal amount, as if I’d been granted a reprieve, but then I felt his finger gently probe the tight ring above my cunt, glazing every secret pleat and crimp with the wetness I’d so anxiously tried to conserve. The finger pushed in easily, and I groaned, feeling nothing but pleasure as I pushed back into him, wanting more of his cock and his finger.
There was that low, silky chuckle again. And then another finger, which I didn’t buck into. I stopped, trying to adjust to the new feeling of fullness. The fingers were not still, but rather constantly in motion, moving in and out or tugging experimentally outwards, as if trying to widen the entrance bit by bit. The tugs made me tense, but then Mr. Markham found my clitoris with his other hand and began working it in expert circles. I moaned, pushing back against him then, his fingers no longer a distraction, but a darkly deep bliss.
“That’s it,” he crooned in my ear. “Good.”
And then—just as I was feeling that tension string through my pelvis once more—his fingers were gone.
“I will be honest with you,” Mr. Markham said. “I’m not planning on doing this gently. I’m going to fuck your ass as hard as I can. But I promise you that I will finally let you come. In fact, I willmakeyou come. Do you trust that I will?”
Why was it that this particular act, more than anything else we’d done, seemed to require so much trust? Why did it seem like such a barrier? But I did trust him, and it was time for me to show it. I let my head drop as I felt him press against my anus.
“I trust you,” I said.
And without any further interlocution, he rammed his dick so far up my ass that I screamed. He didn’t gentle me or pet me like he had before, he didn’t tell me to be quiet, but he did grab hold of my waist with both hands as I tried to squirm away. My mind had gone blank, my lust had evaporated and all there could be was pain and invasion and the urge to flee.
Flee.
And then, out of nowhere:Bluebell.
Bluebell to make it stop, to make the pain stop. But I couldn’t even speak; my breath had been driven from my chest, every part of my throat and mouth felt closed and suffocated, yet I was gasping for air, for relief.
And Julian was fucking me all the while, fucking me so hard that his balls slapped against my sex every time he drove himself home. “Ivy, you are so goddamned tight,” he said over my whimpers and shrieks. “I wish you could see this, how your tight ass is gripping my cock as if it doesn’t want to let it go.”
I was still trying to squirm away, and he was still restraining me as he plunged mercilessly into me, and then he said, “You’re crying,” and I realized I was. I was sobbing, with shuddering breaths and thick tears and no coherent or conscious thoughts in my mind.
“Who is your teacher, Ivy Leavold?”
The words came even though I could barely breathe. “You are.”
“And do we leave our teachers? Do we walk away from them without so much as a goodbye?”
The tears were dripping fast and wet onto the rug now, and my chin was quivering. I shook my head.
Mr. Markham stabbed into me with a movement so brutal that I screamed again. “I didn’t hear you. Do we walk away from the one person who loves us most in this worldwithout even a goodbye?”
“No!” I cried out.
“And why not?”
I shook my head. It was too much. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even breathe.
Another pitiless thrust. “I said,why not?”
“Because…because you love me.”
“Almost. Try again.”
God, he was so deep. So deep in such a virgin part of me. And the pain—I found to my shock that it wasn’t quite pain anymore, although it wasn’t pleasure either. It was sensation, pure and simple, a stimulus that sent electricity to every nerve ending I had—even ones I’d never felt before. Something was kindling besides pain, something so primal, so strange and yet so familiar, and I couldn’t name it.
“Try again.” His voice was a little softer now, though his motions were not.
“Because,” I gasped. “Because I love you. Because I need you. Oh God, Julian, it hurts and it’s such a different hurt than I’ve ever felt, please, please stop.”
He slowed and then stopped, his dick still buried completely in my ass. He curved his body over mine. “Say it again.”
“Please stop?”
I felt him shake his head. “You know I won’t stop unless you use our signal. No, the other thing you said. Say it again, sweetheart.”
