“Again,” he interrupted, through clenched teeth. “If it pleases you.”
A beat of silence ensued, shattered in seconds by the snapping of the belt. The quieting of his mind was more brief, but no less potent. Polly’s golden thread glowed brighter this time, anchoring him to her. He could hear her tiny whimpers, shuddering intakes of breath as she doled out the sweetest torture he could have devised. It was amazing to feel pain after being invincible so long. To feel a physical representation of what he’d caused in others. You deserve this…
…but you’ll never deserve her. The effect on him, wrought by each carefully spaced slap of leather, became secondary to how it made Polly feel. He turned his head to observe her over his shoulder, swallowing a growl when the belt greeted his flesh.
Her kneeling position had rucked her skirt high on her thighs, her rapturous expression leaving him no doubt that she was dripping wet in those panties. Let me at her. The shouting in his head roared back, louder and sharper than ever, making up for the silence she’d gifted him with. He welcomed it. Craved the clarity.
She noticed him watching her, whatever she regarded on his face making her hand go limp, releasing the belt and letting it land with a thud on the soft carpet. “I don’t want to think anymore. Don’t want to think about why it feels so good. Just don’t let me thi—”
“Done.” Austin rose and twisted, circling Polly’s waist with one arm and throwing her down on the bed, thanking Christ his pants were already down. His cock was the very essence of pain, full to the point of leaking onto the bedspread. The friction of a closed zipper would have masturbated him into coming by now, and that would have been a bloody crime against humanity, because Polly’s legs were spread, her * begging for rough treatment from his stiff, angry dick. “You don’t want to think, pretty Polly? Is that right?”
She thrashed her head side to side on the pillow. “No. No more thinking.”
Austin hummed a noise of sympathy as he reached beneath her skirt, whipping a pair of black lace panties down her legs. Wishing to immortalize the moment, he palmed Polly’s knees and slowly pushed them wide, revealing her naked * to himself for the first time. Her legs twitched in his grip, as if uncomfortable with being so blatantly exposed, but he only shoved them wider, drawing a cry from her teeth-abused lips. “Oh, you will be indulging me now, sweet. I’ve been mad to get a look at what you’ve denied me.” He groaned at the slickness coating her pink flesh. “Skirts, so many skirts,” Austin muttered, bending down to swipe his tongue from her puckered back entrance, all the way to her clit, where he sucked until she screamed his name. “I could’ve been pumping you full of hot come since day one, you cruel little girl.”
“Do it now.” She struggled to free her knees, fingers stabbing into her hair and pulling. “Do it now.”
In a reversal of what she’d done to him at the club, Austin lifted her blouse and stuffed the hem into her sobbing mouth. His groan rent the air as he fisted his cock and dragged it through her *, working his head into her tightness and predicting he’d have a tough time fitting through. Good. Good. He wanted nothing more than to make the same fucking impression she’d made on him. An impression he was too far gone with lust to attempt analyzing.
Austin made a grab for his pants to extricate a condom and roll it down his cock, dipping his head for rough sucks of her pointed red nipples all the while. Clamping his lips down on her pebbled peaks, he drove himself to the back of her *.
Austin’s ears went temporarily deaf, time slowing around him. No…them. Them. They were so securely joined, he couldn’t shift an inch without her moving with him. Having a profound reaction. He knew Polly screamed around the material in her mouth, saw her head thrown back, felt her thighs band his waist, but he couldn’t hear it over the incomprehensible silence in his head. His mind groped for a handhold on the golden thread leading to Polly, twisting it in an unyielding grip. Calm pervaded immediately, the volume of reality lifting to greet his ears.
She was lifting her hips and whimpering his name, begging for movement. God, he needed to move, but self-preservation had kicked in, warning him that finding release in Polly would end him. Ruin him forever.
Fuck it. I don’t care. Don’t care. I’m ruined without this.
A need to provide pleasure struck him deep in the chest, like a molten arrow. Austin braced his hands on the headboard, reared his hips back and pounded into Polly’s hot, contracting *, stopping to growl in disbelief that one thrust had been enough to make her come. She arched on the bed beneath him, hands fisted and twisting in the bedclothes.