“Luisa …” I said, shutting my eyes and trying to compose myself.
“Fuck me hard,” she said throatily. “Now.” I felt my balls tighten, the blood pulsing in my cock.
I looked at her with intensity. “I will hurt you.”
She wasn’t deterred. “You’ve already hurt me, Javier.”
“Not in this way.”
“Then I want it this way.” She squirmed beneath me. “Please. Be rough. Hurt me. Make me bleed. Give me something.”
There was such breathtaking sorrow in her last words that it nearly shamed me to be as turned on as I was.
“You don’t want this,” I whispered, feeling myself slowly succumb to her wishes.
“I want everything.” She bit her lip then closed her eyes. “Just fuck me. Fuck me up. Give me everything you’ve got.”
She didn’t want everything I had. I had given that to the whore earlier. As I fucked her raw, against the wall, tied with barbed wire, I took that same wire and brought it around her neck as she climaxed. She was still coming as the blood ran down her neck. She came until her windpipe was severed in two.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t meant to kill her. But rage is a funny thing. I guess she had it coming though, no pun intended. Anyone who would willingly let themselves be choked with barbed wire wouldn’t get very far in life, anyway.
“Please,” Luisa pleaded.
I didn’t let her beg anymore. I reached down and grabbed her by the hair, my fingers scraping along her scalp, and I yanked her up and over, like she weighed nothing at all. She let out a little yelp and I tightened my grip, pushing her face into the pillow.
I lowered my lips to her ear. “Is this what you want? Tell me now if it’s not and I’ll leave you alone.”
She moved her cheek to the side and said, mumbling against the fabric, “Don’t leave me alone.”
I took in a deep breath. “I won’t leave you.”
But my voice was shaking.
So I straddled her, and with one hand fisted in her hair, I pulled her camisole up with the other. She slid her arms out of the straps, obedient, wanting it, and I gathered the delicate fabric around her neck, wrapping it and twisting it around my hand until it was tight. Luisa was no stranger to this kind of bed play, but I knew I was squeezing her throat with enough power to shut it off completely. Luckily, the camisole had a touch of stretch to it.
“You say you want me,” I told her gruffly, pulling her head back by the hair, by the throat, until her torso was lifted off the bed, like a mermaid at the bow of a ship. “You say you want to fuck me. But I don’t think I am who you’re looking for. He hasn’t been around for some time.”
She sputtered under my grasp, unable to talk. I could hear the breath wheezing out of her and none going back in. For one horrifying, startling moment I had a thought of her wanting to die. That this was her plan. That I’d made her life so miserable lately that this was the only way she thought she had a way out.
But even though I was no longer the man she knew, she was the Luisa that I knew. That I fell in love with. That I married. And that I pushed away.
With surprising strength she reached behind her and wrapped her fingers around my cock. She stroked my length and I felt like a balloon ready to burst. But not this way, not yet.
I let go of the camisole and her hair, shoving her back to the bed, her grip on me becoming free. I quickly reached under the mattress and brought out the large steak knife I kept there. Even though I had guards in the house, military patrolling out of the house, I’d be foolish not to have my own form of protection. I could reach the knife or the gun hooked under the bottom of my bedside table in a second flat.
Quickly placing the knife handle between my teeth, I brought Luisa’s hands behind her back and knotted the camisole around them. If she handled me anymore, I’d be coming all over her in seconds. And while I had no problems covering her from head to toe, I hadn’t been with my wife for a long time. I wanted to at least have her come first, before I made my mark.
There was something so carnal about having her lie on her stomach beneath me, her face unseen, her hands bound. Helpless. Even in the faint light I could still see the scars on her back where I had carved my name into her flesh, back when she was just a captive, before she was mine. In some ways it felt like yesterday.
I took the knife out of my mouth and held it in one hand while I let my fingertip trail down her spine. She shivered beneath me.
“Do you still want me to make you bleed?” I asked in a hush. My fingers twitched and ached, cycling between wanting to hold back and wanting to make it hurt.
She nodded.
“You need to say it.”
“Make me bleed.”
I slid my fingers between her soft ass cheeks, ripe like peaches and just as easy to bruise, and stroked around her hole before I dipped down into her cunt. It was already dripping wet, drenched for me. Such a good girl. Such a beautiful queen.