“Fuck me harder, please, Sir.” I shove back against him and revel in the swelling ache behind my legs. He doesn’t listen though, intent on making me suffer. A lump forms in my throat, the slower he goes, the more he makes this something I’m not ready for. Even though we’re standing up, with my wrists bound and a blindfold over my eyes, this is starting to feel much more like making love than fucking. Loving Ian and being prepared to make love to him are two different things. I can’t . . .
I can’t do this.
He’s being so careful with me, like he’s cherishing my body. This is how a husband makes love to a wife, how a man promises forever with the woman he’s committed to. But Ian refuses to give me those things, so I don’t want this bullshit attempt at easy, slow sex.
Moving my forearms around the wall in a slow, blind search, I find the edge of the door frame and press my right forearm against it, angle my body farther in toward the wall behind me, and take a deep breath. He’s going to be so mad at me in a moment.
Pushing back off the wall, I welcome his cock slamming into me hard and fast. I moan, loudly and unapologetically. He grips my hips, trying to still my movements, but I refuse to let him stop this. I slam back against him again, pressing down so hard that he hits the wall behind him, and I fuck his cock as hard and fast as I can. He groans and sucks in a deep breath, letting himself get into it for just a moment before he comes to his senses.
“God damn it, we’re going to have to work on your submission, Melinda!”
“I’ll submit when you follow your own rules. I told you I wanted it hard,” I shout and keep on with my hard and fast pounding against his smooth, hard cock.
“You want hard? Fine!” He’s screaming from behind me, angry now. Good. I want him angry.
He shoves me farther down the wall and back to where he had me before I got the bright idea to force him into giving me what I want. He pounds into me so hard, so fast that I suck in a breath and forget to breathe. My legs shake, my heartbeat is pounding in my ears, and the world around me is disappearing again. He drives into me harder with each thrust, working up to a painful assault on my pussy.
“Use your safe word,” he demands and slaps his hand so fucking hard on my outer thigh that I lose the strength in my arms. My nose hits the wall in front of me. It stings, but I fight back the tears. When I don’t answer him immediately, he does it again, this time driving into me with even more power than before. Reaching around my torso, he twists one of my nipples. I cry out frantically, but refuse to give him the power of knowing that this is getting to be too much.
“Safe word, now. Say yellow and I’ll slow down. Say red or bayonet and I stop.”
“No, Sir.”
“Fuck!” he shouts and slams into me in a frantic rhythm. His breathing picks up, and he’s struggling to maintain the rhythm of his insatiable rapid fire thrusts.
I’m dizzy with the need to come already. My arms and legs want to give out, but I can’t prove him right, so I keep myself upright despite every instinct to just sink to the floor, panting, struggling to breathe, and desperate to give my body a break. My vision crosses. Even in the darkness under the bandana, I know that I’m reaching my breaking point. Even Ian’s struggling to power through his exhaustion. He’s grunting, letting out frustrated, hasty breaths.
“Sir?” I keep my voice small, like I’m giving in to his will.
“Yes, Melinda?” The words barely come out audibly.
I’m quiet for another moment as the explosion of pleasure builds in the pit of my belly and spreads swiftly through my legs, arms, and down my spine.
“Purple!” I’m gasping for breath. Unable to prop my head up any longer, I drop my forehead against the wall and scrunch my eyes shut to fight off the impending nausea that’s building. This is so intense, too intense. I can’t handle it. Fuck. I can’t manage this much longer. But somehow, I do. In a show of stubbornness—or strength, I’m not sure which—I keep myself upright and take every painful, angry inch he gives me. My sore pussy swells and locks down around him as he grabs hold of the belt at my wrists and pulls on it. Oh my God. Shit. He’s got my body propped up, half-bent into this wall as he fucks me mindlessly. His hips crash into my core so hard that I swear I can feel him hitting the very depths of my pussy.
He comes on a roar, loud and volatile in my ear, as his other hand grips my hair and yanks my face to the side, my neck exposed. His torso covers my back, the hand holding the belt at my wrists wraps around my waist, and he continues his merciless pounding. His tongue drags from my shoulder up my neck, leaving a cool, wet trail to my ear. The new angle forces my orgasm from me so violently that I lose my footing, and the only thing keeping me from falling onto the hardwood is his arm around my waist. I’m screaming my release, darkness closing in around me, and a simultaneously suffocating and freeing breaking of consciousness as the blackness takes over. The last thing I feel is his teeth at my neck biting down and sending one last savage shock to my system. My arms and legs shake uncontrollably as his bite registers and the blissful euphoria consumes me.
Chapter 20