by Alex Wolf
While she still pondered what Matty might feel like inside her, he gripped her once more, and in one swift motion flipped her over onto her stomach. Christina was not accustomed to being tossed around, but the sudden movement and the force at which he’d grabbed her—it lit another flame inside her that surged through her body and licked at her fingers and toes.
She began to resist, simply as a natural reaction.
Matty’s hand smacked square onto her ass with a loud crack. The stinging pain ripped up her back and jolted her mind into another world. She’d never imagined being spanked in the bedroom. Most of the men she’d been with simply seized on top of her for a bit and then rolled over and went to sleep.
Matty was a different beast altogether, and clearly comfortable with his role in the bedroom. “Ow.” The word trailed from Christina’s lips—but not as a cry of pain. There was a burning need behind it, a need that sent her mind into a frenzied state.
Matty’s mouth was next to her ear again before she could get all her wits back. “I do believe that you just enjoyed that too, you dirty little slut.”
Another bolt of lightning scorched through her at his filthy mouth. No man had ever talked to her in that manner, and yet, somehow her pussy ached for more, and a pool of nerves swirled down to her center like a funnel.
She still panted from the initial slap, when another crack rang out and that delicious stinging pain shot through her legs and up her spine once more.
“Yes.”
Matty’s hand slowly slid up her back, tracing the contours of her shoulder blades and beyond, and then she felt the one thing that could send only more pulsing need into her clit. His fingers raked into her long locks of hair and balled into a fist. His knuckles pressed against her scalp, and he pulled her ear closer to his mouth, while he exhaled warm breath along with his words. “I didn’t catch that last part. So tell me, do you enjoy having your ass spanked by a powerful man, Christina?”
She nodded against his hold, her breathing labored, but no matter how much her brain told her she was being degraded, she couldn’t resist. He owned her. He’d broken her. The pleading came from her mouth before she could filter it from her body.
“Yes, please. More. Yes.” Breathing was a struggle. She’d never been so overwhelmed with passion in her life. Her pussy was on fire and she could feel her wetness coursing down her legs onto his thousand-count Egyptian sheets.
“That’s my good girl.”
She felt that cold, sinister smirk against her cheek, and she couldn’t help but notice the emphasis on the word ‘my.’ So possessive, and yet cleverly laced through his words. No matter how much she wanted to fight it, she’d never been turned on like this, and she would worry about the accompanying shame later on. It was future Christina’s problem, because holy shit, Matty fucking Spencer.
He pulled her up to him by the hair, and her back pressed against his rock-hard chest. He reached around and cupped one of her breasts, taking his time to make sure and keep every ounce of pleasure bottled up inside her body, and at the same time teasing her to a point she might pass out.
“You enjoy torturing me. Don’t you?”
He massaged her breast some more. “Oh yes, love. You can guarantee that I do.”
He pinched her nipple so hard she nearly cried out, but sucked in a huge breath instead, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.
“I love when you beg for me. There’s nothing in this world that makes my cock harder, you see? Or perhaps you should feel for yourself.”
She reached back for his cock, and he snatched her by the wrist and pinned it behind her back. “You forgot to ask for permission to touch my cock.”
There was nothing she wanted more than to feel his length in her palm. Her brain was a haze of nothing but pure, unadulterated lust.
“May I touch your cock?”
His hand tightened in her hair and he growled into her ear. “May I touch your cock, Sir?”
Her breath hitched once more at his forcefulness. “M-may I touch your cock—” She hesitated. Old Christina—the staunch conservative, feminist in her—reared her ugly head, trying to persuade her to not lose all her dignity. It was a fruitless effort.
She could practically feel a grin spreading across Matty’s face as she readied to say the word. Christina swallowed hard, as knuckles dug into her scalp, and his other hand squeezed her wrist even harder. “Sir.”
Her eyes flicked to her side and noticed Matty had leaned around to stare at her face while she said it. She scowled at him, but they both knew it was nothing but a show. The back and forth made the situation that much more intense. It was part of what made it all so exciting.
He smirked and led her hand by the wrist.
Her hungry fingers grasped back, her hand searching for what he’d promised her. She found the head of his cock first, by far the largest she’d ever felt. Her fingers wrapped around the crown, squeezing his wide girth in her palm. She thought for a moment about tightening her hold on it so hard that he passed out from blood loss. That’d be a nice lesson to teach him for spanking her like a child and making her beg, but she couldn’t.
Her wet pussy still throbbed with need, and if she denied him, she thought she might die. Her hand slid down his length, for what seemed like forever, until she reached the base.
Jesus, can that fit inside me?
Her hand stroked back and forth over his huge cock, her eyes growing wider each time. She could easily wrap both hands around it with room to spare, and she found herself licking her lips, hoping she’d feel it in her mouth before the night ended.
It was a crazy thought. She truly felt she might be losing her mind right then. Never in her life, had she wanted to suck a man’s cock, though she’d done it a few times. It definitely wasn’t something she ever sought out to do. What was this man doing to her?
“What do you think we should do with that situation?” Matty nodded down at his dick in her hand.
Christina was too infatuated with searing every feeling onto the hard drive in her brain to even hear what he’d said. She wanted to capture every sensation and log it away, in case she needed it for a solo session down the road when Matty was unavailable to service her.
She found herself at a loss for words and hadn’t had time to brace by the time she realized Matty had let go of her wrist. Crack!
Her hand stroked him even faster at the swift pain that shot through her ass and legs, and this time a moan escaped her lips instead of a whimper. He was using operant conditioning on her. She knew this. She’d studied psychology in school. He was programming her brain to want the sweet, delicious pain, and she was helpless against him.
“Fuck,” she moaned on an exhale.
“I asked a question.”
“Please, Matty. Please fuck me.”
“Oh yes. That’s what I like to hear.” His hand slid down between her ass and cupped her pussy from beneath while she continued to stroke him. “I’ll tell you what I think.” Two fingers slid inside her, and her pussy clenched around them at the sensation.
“Wh-what’s that—” She paused. “Sir?” The word came much easier this time, and she already knew that it’d made him happy by the tone of his voice.
“My God, you’re so fucking tight and wet.” His fingers slid in and out, slowly at the moment, as if he were savoring each stroke. “Exquisite.”
She nodded at his words.
Without notice, he thrust his fingers to the hilt, as far and as deep as they’d go. She moaned at the sudden intrusion and the pressure with which he forced his fingers into her. “I think I’ll stretch this tight little cunt. Necessary, you see, if it’s to take this cock.”
“Oh my God.” Her words came on a heavy exhale and ended with her taking in a sharp breath.
“Any. Which. Way. I. Fucking. Want.”
He smacked her hand away from his dick. His fingers splayed across her back and he shoved her face-first into the bed. Her hands braced her on each side, and s
he instinctively went to push herself back up. However, another sharp crack rang out through the room, and his hand slid up to her neck, to the back of her head, and forced her face into a pillow.
“I said behave, love.”
This is it. He’s finally going to fuck me.
No matter how hard her brain tried to resist, her back naturally arched and shoved her ass into the air.
“Yeah, that’s it. Offer that pussy up like the dirty little bitch that you are.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Christina braced for his cock, but instead felt Matty spreading her cheeks apart, and warm breath playing across her ass and pussy, as if he was examining her.
“This pussy, love. Just fucking perfect.” A flick of his tongue across her clit followed his sentence, and then he licked all the way up to the puckered ridge of her asshole.
She squirmed and tried to pull away. No man had ever gone anywhere near that area, but his hands gripped her curvy hips and pulled it next to his mouth. His warm breath tickled her sensitive skin.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted me to lick your ass, Christina.”
“You’re so fucking dirty.”
He spread her cheeks even farther, opening her up to him. “Oh yes. You’ll need a shower when I’m done with you.”
She felt him adjust behind her on the bed, and once more, braced for his cock. Instead, he smacked the head of his huge prick forcefully up into her clit. Her thighs clenched, and his fingers on one hand dug into her waist, hard enough to leave bruises. She could only assume he had his cock fisted with the other. She wanted to see it, but her view was blocked from the angle. He teased the crown all around the edges of her entrance in a slow circle.
Her ass tried to buck up against his hold, her pussy needy for any extra friction it could get.
“Bite down on that pillow. Gentle is not in my vocabulary.”
Christina obeyed, almost without fully processing what he’d said. She was a slave to his words. She’d do whatever he asked until she got her release. It was too much. Too intense.
Matty pressed up against her pussy and parted her slick folds with the head of his cock. “So much for professionalism.” He shoved into her.
Whatever words Christina had been holding in came out of her mouth, coupled with a series of moans and heavy panting, alternating between some Deity and Matty’s name.
She’d thought it would hurt more than it did, but he definitely stretched her, and he was definitely not gentle.
“Fuck, your cunt’s so tight. Just heavenly.”
She jolted forward with each slick collision of his hips and her ass. Matty gripped her at the waist and seemingly yanked her into him as he thrust from the opposite direction. The man was a fucking machine. And it wasn’t all over the place either. He fucked her with methodical, rhythmic surges, each angled perfectly to hit the magic spot deep inside her. It sent her mind reeling with pleasure.
She wondered if she would ever be able to fuck another man after Matty.
One of his hands slid up her back and into her hair. She quickly learned there wasn’t much that was better than Matty pulling her hair while he pounded into her. If there was anything better in the universe, she didn’t know what it was at that moment. Add in a swat to her ass and she was about to go over the edge of the cliff once more.
“Fucking hell, Christina.”
She angled her head to get a view of him from behind. That was the moment she knew it was more than just him wanting to dominate her in the bedroom. Sure, it was degrading, and out of character in every other way of her life, but it was perfect at that moment, and by the look on Matty’s strained face, he was definitely happy about it too.
The words and actions didn’t matter, so long as they were both enjoying themselves and consensual. It was pure fun, and pure lust, and she wouldn’t apologize to her brain for it later. Christina was letting her hair down, for once in her life—and allowing Matty to pull it.
She knew she was only a moment away from erupting with another orgasm, and from the looks of Matty, he had to be close too. Although he was in the position of power, Christina felt powerful too. She could stop at any moment and send Matty into a state of hysteria. That, in itself, was a form of control that she enjoyed, even as his giant cock slammed into her from behind, and he had her head wrenched up by her hair. If she told him to stop, she knew he would.
But, there was no way in fucking hell she’d tell him to stop now. Impossible, even if she wanted to.
Matty let out short grunts with each of his thrusts, which seemed to speed up with each second. Smacking sounds of wet flesh on flesh echoed through his giant bedroom. All four posts on the bed shook and rattled.
“Play with your cunt and come on my cock.”
Jesus Christ.
Tingling sensations swirled to her clit, like water circling a drain, and she was about to lose herself. Her hand slid up between her legs, and she circled her clit. She’d never done anything like that for another guy. Hadn’t ever come close to it.
“Permission to come, Sir?” She barely got the words out without fainting.
Matty hesitated for a moment, most likely in shock that she’d asked for permission in the heat of the moment.
“Yes. Come on my fucking dick. And say my goddamn name when you do it.”
She closed her eyes, and fuzzy dots exploded everywhere. Her entire body stiffened, and her toes curled up against the sheets.
“Fuck, Matty. Fuck.” His name fell from her lips over and over as the waves of ecstasy coursed through her limbs. The orgasm finally rolled through her body and subsided, and she slowly realized Matty was still fucking her, probably on the verge of exploding.
“Jesus, fuck. I’m so close.” His words were strained, and his entire body was nothing but corded muscle and rough sinew. A fine sheen of sweat coated his chest and gleamed in the light.
Christina wasn’t sure what came over her, but she reached back and gripped his balls in her hand.
“Fucking Christ, wom—”
She felt him ram into her as far as he possibly could, and his balls tightened against her hand. His cock kicked deep within her, and hot spurts of come went off like jets as he filled her to the brim. She massaged his balls, and clenched her pussy at the same time, over and over, as if milking him for every last drop.
She tried to push the thought that Matty had just come inside her far from her mind, and just enjoy the moment a little longer. Christina knew that she was about to experience a hangover of regret, for days, weeks, and possibly months, but she’d never done anything like this before in her life. She was entitled to one poor decision, and Matty Spencer was the best worst choice she’d ever made.
She released her grip on him and he sank back on his heels behind her, panting, and grinning like a complete idiot. For just a second, he looked like a schoolboy who’d just lost his virginity. She liked the smile she put on his face, knowing she’d made him feel as good as he’d made her feel.
“Holy shit, love.”
His tall powerful frame glistened with sweat, and the light created a fine sheen that glistened over every cut of muscle. He looked like a statue that should’ve been in a museum somewhere, on display for public consumption, though she greedily loved that she had him all to herself right then.
Her mind was still a dense fog from the mind-blowing orgasm she’d just had, and she collapsed right onto her stomach. She shuddered lightly when she felt a bead of his hot come slide down her inner thigh.
He leaned up and kissed her cheek, as if he’d just morphed from a sex god into a perfect gentleman. The rough edge to him was gone, and he was relaxed and attentive.
“Stay right there. I’m going to get a towel and something for you to drink.”
When he returned, Christina was passed out on the bed, snoring.
He shook his head at her. “Jesus, just like a fucking man. Got her rocks off and went straight to sleep.”
; Chapter Nine
The orange light began to project the artificial sun from Matty’s phone onto the wall, and the sound of chirping birds filled the room. Matty slowly pried open his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. The streaks of blue began to appear as the fake sun rose above him, and he heard his coffee maker start up at the far side of the room, just out of view behind a screen and a slightly neglected house plant.
Matty was in a position he’d grown accustomed to over the years, but looking at Christina, this time it was different. The satisfaction he was used to. A new conquest, a great fuck, and a good night's sleep was always a beautiful way to start a day. But seeing her in his bed was a million times better, because of the initial reluctance on her part. And because of some deep feeling he couldn’t put his finger on.
Normally that satisfaction felt complete, like after finishing a painting, or getting a new car. That joy of completing a task, and the slight disappointment that the journey had come to an end. It was supposed to be a final feeling, the full stop at the bottom of the last page of the experience. But it wasn't.
Rather, he felt the same way one did after a big meal. He enjoyed last night very much, but his appetite for her quickly returned. Just because he'd had a lovely dinner didn’t mean he didn't want breakfast as well. He wondered if he’d ever have enough of this woman. The way she’d submitted to him, completely trusted him—it was like a narcotic in his veins.
The way she looked in his bed after they’d finished, when he’d returned to take care of her—he felt as though it could be more than just pure lust, and primal want. More than just a casual fling, or a conquest. Her face was almost angelic, and she’d fully given in to her desires. He’d found himself wanting to take care of her. Make sure she was okay. He’d had—actual feelings.
These thoughts didn’t sit well with Matty after the initial elation of waking up with her next to him. Matty’s life was tightly compartmentalized for a reason, and that included his love life, or lack thereof. Relationships were work, and Matty Spencer enjoyed the least amount of work possible. What was more, he was certain the moment she woke, she’d return to her cold, rigid personality. Probably worse, considering the regret she was sure to project onto him. It’d probably ruin his breakfast.