Page 48 of Descent
Now her agony echoed off the walls.
“Holy fuck, Rafe!”
I unleashed three more strikes, just as equally painful as the first two before setting the paddle on the couch in front of her face. I’d been as brutal today as during any punishment, but that particular paddle was never used to correct her behavior.
It was strictly for play.
Allowing her a couple of minutes to come down from the endorphin high, I massaged her stinging ass, eager to get inside it.
“How does it feel?” I asked.
“You know how it feels.” She sounded dazed. Fuck, she sounded turned on.
“You’re about to feel more.” I grabbed the lube from my pajama pants before pushing them down my thighs, kicking the soft cotton free. I rolled her to her back, lifted her legs, and wound them around my neck.
“What are you doing?” she asked, eyes going wide.
“Making sure you feel every inch of me in that tight hole.” I picked her up and stumbled away from the couch. Three steps in retreat gave me the room I needed, and I sat on my haunches with my knees apart, impaling her ass onto my lubed cock.
Gouging my shoulders, she let out a sharp cry at the initial intrusion.
“Damn, sweetheart.” I rammed her hard, each pummel a driving force she couldn’t escape. Especially from this angle, with my arms an immovable band around her back, forcing her into the thrusts as her calves pressed against my ears.
Knees bracing against the floor for leverage, I arched into the position, driving deeper as her skin grew slick with sweat against my thighs. Each violent thrust dragged shrieking cries from her throat. Anal with Alex always came down to push and pull. She fought me, tightened against the girth of my cock, pushed back with each grunt and cry.
And that only made me crave it above all else, because she eventually gave in so beautifully, body a writhing and sweaty mess, head lost in deep subspace, and I was a goner.
“Fuck, it hurts,” she groaned, instinctively bearing down to dislodge my cock. “It’s too much.” Tears trailed down her cheeks, and I kissed them away, letting the salt dissolve on my tongue.
“Shouldn’t have teased my cock. Now it wants to come in your ass.”
“Please, Rafe.”
“You can take it.”
She squirmed some more, but she didn’t utter the forbidden word.
Rule number three.
No didn’t exist in her vocabulary, though she’d definitely tested that rule enough times in the past.
She didn’t now. She accepted the pain. Accepted her own surrender to it.
I accepted that I’d never get enough of her.
“I’m so in love with you,” I said, tone a rugged vow that told her just how whipped I was.
“You’re in love”—she gasped as I rammed harder—“with my ass.”
“That too.”
“Let me come.” Her watery eyes pleaded with me.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
She wasn’t in trouble, so she knew she’d get there eventually. It was the eventually part that had her worked up, had her ass opening for me, desperate to find the pleasure.
Had her mouth parting in something other than pain.
Holy hell, she wanted it.
I wanted to give it.
Planting a hand on the floor, I leaned forward and laid her out, raising her hips at the right angle as I pushed into her ass again. I reached between us and rubbed her clit just right, pumping away to my own climax as she climbed to hers. The rush of releasing blood hit us at the same time. Afterward, I collapsed on the floor next to her, drenched in sweat despite the chill of winter.
“That was…” Alex trailed off, still catching her breath.
“So spectacular you want to do it again?” I rolled to my side and pressed my mouth to hers.
“I need to recover,” she said, pushing against my chest.
I laughed. “Isn’t that my job?”
“Your job is to stay there.” She rose to her feet, and I sat up, back against the couch, and followed her movement across the room to the wall of windows.
An eight-foot Christmas tree stood there, alight with multicolored lights and too many bulbs to count. Getting that sucker onto the island had been a lesson in determination, but the day Alex spotted it, and her eyes lit up with happiness, I knew it’d been worth the effort.
She bent to retrieve a small oblong box before returning to the couch, and I arched a brow as she settled next to me on the floor.
“I don’t recognize that one,” I said.
“That’s because I wrapped it last night while you were in the cellar.”
Zach got three meals a day, the same thing day in and day out; oatmeal for breakfast, a PB&J sandwich for lunch, and a can of ravioli for dinner. It wasn’t the most tasteful or healthy diet, but it kept him alive.
For now.
I fucked my wife down there at least twice a week, and during Alex’s ovulation periods, those sessions were extra special. Each time I took her in front of him, making it no secret that we aimed to conceived, it dug under his skin a little more.
