Page 42 of Corruption
“Tell me something, my good little slut. Does your husband take care of you as well as your Master?” I asked, before nibbling on her earlobe.
“Oh shit, he’s my husband.”
“That’s not an answer. Does he satisfy you like I do?” I inquired.
I felt her defenses returning as I targeted her sensitive spot, but my hand moved lower, teasing her clit. Pleasure overwhelmed her, but I stopped the teasing almost as quickly as I started it, warning her that only an answer would give her what she wanted.
“I... No... Not anymore.”
“Not anymore,” I chuckled darkly into her ear. “Who satisfies you the most?”
“Ah, fuck... you...”
“I can’t hear you,” I growled, resuming the teasing of her clit.
“You! You!”
“Good girl,” I groaned into her ear, my pleasure growing as I thrust into her with increasing urgency.
“Who’s your Master?” I whispered.
“You! You!”
“Very good,” I murmured, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me. I increased my pace, pounding into her over and over.
“Oh fuck, I’m coming, Master,” she panted, startling me with her announcement, but it only intensified everything. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”
Alison cried out, her inner walls convulsing, squeezing me as if to drain every drop of pleasure from my body. She wanted me and everything I had to give. I pushed her forward again, still holding her hair tightly as I concentrated on my own release. It didn’t take much longer—a few more thrusts, and I erupted, spilling my cum deep within her.
This little game had taken us to new heights, and the dark, satisfying sensation coursing through me was overwhelming. As I finished, I leaned over Alison, listening to her heavy panting and watching her head hang in submission. I could feel her trembling beneath my touch, but I knew it wasn’t solely from pleasure. She was returning. The woman I had known was reemerging, and I couldn’t resist mocking her as I pushed her long, blond hair aside and whispered in her ear.
“I always knew you craved me,” I taunted, delivering the final blow, knowing how deeply those words cut.
Chapter 19
-Alison-
Jared withdrew from me and headed to the bathroom, leaving me on the couch, trembling, filled with self-loathing, my fingers clutching the leather so tightly that they left marks. I couldn’t comprehend what had come over me. There was something I had always cherished—the significance of a kiss. To me, it held meaning, a special connection formed through such a simple gesture. Jared wanted to taint and ruin that for me. Some people might not find kisses important, but I did, and I found myself leaning into it, craving it, even. How had it come to this? We hadn’t even played one of his twisted games. Or maybe we had, but it wasn’t the kind of roleplaying where I was forced to act like an obsessed girl. I had even asked for it. After all that had happened—being used, my skills criticized, and then having him finish on me—I found myself craving warmth, intimacy, and that was stupid. Jared was not someone I wanted. I had never wanted him. I would never want him. I was above him. But he knew how to make me climax, and that familiarity made me frantic.
However, his last comment shook me, and I wanted to strangle him. I did not want him! I had never wanted him. I would never want him. I was above him. But my argument felt weak as I felt his cum trickling down my thigh. I closed my legs tightly, my face burning with embarrassment and anger.
When Jared returned, he was dressed again and looked very satisfied. He walked over to the tray and took another bite of toasted bread while keeping his eyes on me.
“I’m still hungry,” he remarked, laughing tauntingly.
“Can... Can I go clean up... Master?” I managed to ask, my anger evident.
“Wow, you truly struggled asking that because of how angry you are. Did your Master not fuck the anger out of you?” he taunted, that infuriating smirk on his lips.
“He made me feel utterly disgusted.”
“Is that why you came for him? Even begged him for it?” Jared countered, and we both knew I had little to argue with, given that I had asked for it this time.
“Bodily reaction.”
“Ah, the old excuse. Very well, go clean up,” he told me.
I slipped off the couch and headed for the shower, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn’t rid myself of the feeling of his touch, teasing me. Even my lips tingled with the memory of him. I grabbed my hair, leaning my forehead against the cold tiles.
