“That is definitely a promise. Open that sweet mouth of yours,” he commanded, and she obeyed, desperate to taste him as he shoved his pants down and his cock sprang free. Stroking from base to tip, a drop of precum glistened and she reached for it with her tongue, but he held her just out of reach. “Say please.”
Looking up the length of his hard body, she met his eyes and smiled sweetly. “Please, sir?”
“Fuck,” he growled and relaxed his hold enough for her to lean forward and capture the little pearl with her tongue. Moaning as she leaned down to lick over his fingers at the base of his cock, up the shaft, before focusing on the head. “Take it, baby.”
She didn’t need any urging, moving his cock into her mouth to suck. Not teasing, but working to make him come, to erase the stress of the night with an orgasm that would take the edge off, because then she knew he’d return the favor multiple times over.
Bryant kept his fist at the base for a minute longer, keeping each movement away from the back of her throat, and she sucked and licked, moaning to encourage him to let go of all that stern control. Finally, he released his cock and wrapped his other hand in her dark curls, taking over the blowjob with each pull of her hair.
Tingles rushed down her spine as he tested the back of her throat, once, twice, and then he pushed in. Forcing her to swallow or choke, and he shouted out something incomprehensible as he held himself deep in her throat for a moment, her nose pressed to his stomach, eyes watering until he finally slid back to let her breathe. Then it was nothing but hard thrusts, into her throat and then pulling back to tease her tongue, making her lips buzz and her body hungry for more. A facefucking that always managed to turn her into a squirming, soaked mess even with her knees bruising on the floor.
“Yes, fuck, take it all, baby.” Forcing himself deep, he held her tight, pinpricks of pain lighting up where he fisted her hair as he rocked in her throat — and then he came. Shouting above her as his whole body jerked and stilled, and she swallowed again and again, desperate for oxygen, but deliriously proud that she’d made him lose control.
When he finally eased back, she tore air in on a harsh gasp, and then focused on licking him, gently tracing her tongue across him as he shivered and eventually twitched his hips out of her reach.
“Holy shit, that was…”
“Delicious,” she finished, grinning up at him as she bit her lip.
He groaned, removing one fist from her hair to trace her swollen mouth, cupping her chin so she had to look at him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Phee.”
“I’m the lucky one, sir.”
“Not true,” he growled, his fingers winding tighter in her dark curls as he pulled. “Up.”
Phee stood slowly, reveling in the sting of her scalp, and then he pushed her roughly over the back of the couch, nudging the inside of her feet until she spread her legs. “Sir, please?” she begged, wiggling her hips, and he held her down with his hand in her hair, but slid his other between her thighs.
“I’m going to show you exactly why I’m the lucky one, baby.” Teasing her clit with light touches, she squirmed, grabbing onto a pillow just to have something to hold, and bite as he dragged it out. Sending pulses of electric pleasure through her with each flick of his finger over the bundle of nerves. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
“Yes! Yes, sir, I will, I swear.” Babbling already, but he’d been edging her through the whole striptease, teasing her with looks, and too-brief touches that had her blood on fire.
“You’re so hot…” he groaned, dipping two fingers inside her to curl down to find her g-spot, and she half-screamed before she bit down on the pillow in her hands. Moaning desperately as he roughly thrust his fingers, bringing her to the edge in moments, thighs shivering as he stroked her exactly how she needed it — and then he pulled back.
“No!” she shouted, trying to stand up, but he held her firm over the couch. Spanking her with a wet popping sound.
“Oh baby, you’re going to beg so well before I’m done with you tonight.” Leaning down he bit the skin over her ribs, and she yelped, whining until he finally released her and soothed the spot with his tongue. Pressing a series of kisses over her ribs, and down her spine, before he had to release her hair to crouch behind her. The first swipe of his tongue through her wetness had her standing up, but he spanked her hard. “I didn’t say you could move.”
“Sir,” she whined, but she bent over again, and was rewarded with his tongue once again. Muscles trembling as she fought to keep position, inching closer and closer to the orgasm that she knew would wreck her. But he stopped again.
“I promised to make you scream, Phee,” he whispered against her thigh, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin as she mourned the loss of his tongue and bit down on the pillow to avoid saying something stupid. “Stay right here, okay, baby?”
“Yes, sir.” The pout was evident in her voice, but he just chuckled and padded across the tile behind her, back to their bedroom.
A moment later a swish cut the air behind her and made her jump. That was not a paddle.
“Lift your ass in the air, Phee… Good, now spread your legs just a little more.”
She obeyed, trying to ignore the cold shiver that went through her as she waited for the pain that she knew was next. The part of their relationship that was so complicated to explain to anyone who didn’t understand the intricate love-hate relationship she had with the collection of toys he had hidden in their closet. Still, even with the trickle of nervous energy running down her spine, she was excited. Anxious to find out exactly what he had planned.
“Now, are you in trouble?” he asked, voice calm, measured, in control.
“No, sir?” The answer was mostly a question, and he laughed low behind her, running his hand over her ass, just before he dipped between her legs to rub her clit.
“You shouldn’t have caught their attention, baby, but you did well in holding your tongue.” Intensifying the pressure over that bundle of nerves had her moaning softly, clenching her hands in the pillow, as he continued talking. “But I want you to remember how important it is to keep your seat in those rooms. Give them no reason to focus on you. Understand?”
“Yes, sir, I understand.” Her hips were rolling, desperate to feel him inside her, and he slid his fingers in for just a moment, letting her ride them as she panted. And then he stepped back, and that wicked swipe through the air had her whining.
“Good girl. Just keep position, and if you can’t take anymore you’ll use your safe word — but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to hear you scream. So… feel free.” Those words plucked something dark and hungry inside her, urged on by the delectable growl in his voice.
Phee took a steadying breath, completely aware of how exposed she was as the air brushed across her damp pussy. She almost laughed at herself. Yes, she was worried about how much the semi-punishment was about to hurt — but she was still wet thinking about it. She was still turned on by how exposed she was bent over the couch, by the way he had ordered her to hold position, and she felt heat coiling inside her at the idea of what he’d do with her once the scene was over.
“Now, be still for me.” The first lash landed and she couldn’t bite back the shout as the crop struck across both cheeks. The riding crop. He was definitely planning to make her scream. It felt like fire at first, and then spread into a vicious ache that had her dancing from foot to foot. The second landed just below it, the third just above the first. Each lash was in a new spot on her ass or the backs of her thighs, and she struggled to be still. She bucked forward against the couch, her hips pressing hard like she could somehow get away from the crop as he brought it down again. She whimpered and let out little screams into the pillow clenched in her hands, and completely lost count of the number.
Another.
And another.
And another and another and another.
They started to overlap, and that was a whole new pain. The f
reshly welted skin sending distress signals through her body that begged her to get away from the pain, to run, to flee — but she stayed still because he’d asked her to. With a deep breath, Phee planted her heels on the floor and clenched her teeth against the constant stream of whimpers trying to escape her lips. Then, a wicked lash across the center of her ass broke a scream from her, and another smaller one when it landed again just below.
Sweat-soaked and whimpering, it wasn’t until she gasped for breath that she realized the crop had not landed in several moments. Bryant’s warm touch traced up one thigh, over the swell of her ass, each textured welt made instantly obvious by the path of his fingers. Relief surged through her — he was done. His hand dipped between her thighs and she rocked her hips as he found her clit and circled it, sending a crash of pleasure through her system that combated the tension the semi-punishment had brought. Phee threw herself into the pleasure as he drew tiny circles around the bundle of nerves that had her moaning into the couch, lifting up onto her toes.
Then he stepped back.
“Bryant!” Her short scream of frustration was punctuated by an even louder yelp as the studded leather of a paddle struck in a dull slap across her ass. With the welts still fresh, the small metal protrusions making contact was a different pain, it woke up her skin in new, vicious ways, and she squirmed. He’d given her the moment of pleasure on purpose, to reset her brain, to make the first slap of the paddle that much stronger. She wanted to curse him, but bit her tongue, and was momentarily proud of her self-control to do so. That is, until another slap of the paddle landed and had her fully distracted by the bruising ache that spread across both cheeks.
“The next time you’re sitting in the briefing room I want you to remember this.” Another hard swat, that jarred her hips into the couch. “The next time we’re out at dinner and those assholes show up with cameras, this is what I want you to focus on.”
Another swat that made tears burn in her eyes.
“I don’t want you to dim your fire, baby, but we have to do things the right way. You know better than to rise to their bait, they just want a reaction. They want anything to discredit what we’re doing.” He stepped to her other side, switching hands because she could feel the new angle in the way the brutal paddle landed on her already sore skin. “Those bastards want to turn you into the hysterical woman, the simple fiancée, the girl from the fog who can’t control herself. But you are so much better than that, Phee. You are smart, and beautiful, and you care for people. You really care for people, and I want that to be what the city knows about you. I want the city to see you as the brave, strong woman you are. My queen of fire.”
The tears in her eyes were half from the burning pain, and half from his words. He was right, and she had to be better. For him, for all of them, or she’d just become another issue for him to handle — and that was the last thing she wanted. “I’m sorry, sir!” she screamed as another sharp strike of the paddle bruised her ass.
“You, Phee, should be someone they’re afraid of, because when you think things through, when you really focus, you are well-spoken and articulate and intelligent and an amazing example of those who live in the fog that these COF supporters want to pretend don’t exist.”
“Sir, please!” she begged against the pillow, but the paddle landed hard again across the crease where her ass met her thighs. Her sit-spot. She screamed, because of the pain and because it was a vicious reminder of how truthful his words were. She’d been stopped by so many of the others who lived south of downtown, hugged by them, cheered by them. She had been part of the resistance, she had been there that night, and she had spoken up for them. So many of the people that helped make the government run were downtowners with sympathies for those who had suffered in the fog, but she was from the fog. She’d been born in it, she’d lived in it, and she’d taken two buses and a train to get the chance to work where the sky was visible. It had been that train and those buses that had led her to Bryant — and he had changed her whole life. He had taken her out of the fog, he had taken her above the fog, but she was still seen as one of them.
It was a burden she kept forgetting she carried.
“You can’t let them get under your skin, Phee. Not anymore.” The clap of the paddle hitting the floor was followed by his soothing hand, stroking over the welts, squeezing gently as he rubbed away the ache as best he could. “You’re better than that.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, hiccupping into the pillow as she started to really cry, and he pulled her up, lifting her into his arms to carry her to their bed.
“It’s okay, baby.” Nuzzling into her hair, he spoke softly. “I just wanted to remind you of who you are to me… and to the NDF and this city.” He was saying all the right things, soothing her with gentle kisses and tender sounds, and in his arms she felt better. Climbing onto the bed with her, he laid her out, running his hand over her curves before he brushed at the tears on her cheeks. “Baby…”
“Please kiss me?” she whispered, and he let out a little groan as he leaned down to kiss her. Softly at first, until she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. The warm heat of his chest pressing her into the bed as his tongue met hers, desperate to ease the ache in her chest.
“You are such a good girl,” Bryant purred, slipping his hand between her thighs, his fingers dipping inside her to tease the heat that was still present. It was just a moment before she was squirming for an entirely different reason, arching to try and get his touch just a little deeper, for the movement of his fingers to be just a little stronger. She wanted to drop over the edge into an abyss of pleasure, and he knew it. Immediately curving them down to find that bundle of nerves hidden just behind her pubic bone — and this time she half-screamed for an entirely different reason.
It was either his name, or a plea for him to fuck her, or a combination of the two, but she couldn’t think straight with all the different sensations rushing through her nerves. Pain, pleasure, heat, and a humming that wouldn’t stop pulsing just under her skin. He pressed her, pushed her to the limit until she was somehow balancing between an orgasm and the aching reminder of their scene. “Please, sir, please…”
“You know how much I like it when you beg,” he growled nudging her thighs wider until he was between them, and she was exposed for him. Looking up into his brilliant eyes, she couldn’t find words as another wave of pleasure stole the air from her lungs. Thighs shivering as she lifted her hips and he pressed her back to the bed. Palm just about her mound, intensifying the movement of his fingers as he added a third and focused mercilessly on her g-spot. “Again.”
“Please, sir, please fuck me! Bryant, please!” That was when he quickly removed his fingers and buried his cock inside her to the hilt in one swift movement. She screamed his name, and he groaned against her shoulder, placing a trail of kisses up her throat until he captured her mouth.
Each hard thrust of his cock was strong, powerful, her knees bent to let him reach deeper on the next, and she moaned as it hurt just a little. Even the echoes of pain from the welts on her ass just combined and merged with the pleasure of having him inside her, stretching her and filling her until she was simply saying his name over and over.
Each string of speech punctuated by a blur of begging pleas that she couldn’t break as she dug her nails into his back, waiting for the moment when he would let her shatter.
“Who do you belong to, Phee?” Bryant’s words were a low growl against her shoulder, and the wave of submission they brought her was just what she needed as he dragged it out. Slowing his own pace to mete out each delicious movement inside her until she was bucking her hips, trying to gain just a little more friction, just a little more pressure. “Say it.”
“You Bryant, sir, you, please — God — let me come, please, please, let me come!” It was a moment before he reacted, before the constant slam of his hips against hers was broken by anything other than her moans and pleas, and the quiet huff of his effor
ts above her. Finally, his pace increased and he leaned up to find her clit between them, rubbing with his thumb as she shuddered.
“Come. Come, Phee, come for me.” He repeated himself as she fell apart under him, squeezing him tight inside her and he stilled, groaning as he continued to rub her clit. Forcing her to ride the orgasm until lights sparked behind her eyes and she was writhing. Hips forced to stillness by his other hand, even as he continued to strum that focal point.
“Bryant!” she cried out, and he shifted his hips inside her, beginning to move in shallow thrusts.
“Again baby, come for me again.” His thumb stayed on her clit for a moment longer as she whimpered, unsure if she could come again, but then he pushed her legs over his arms, bracing beside her ribs to deliver deep, powerful strokes that brought her to the edge again.
“Yes, please! Fuck!”
“That’s right, Phee, take it,” he growled bending her so that all she could do was clench her fists in the sheets and do exactly as he’d commanded.
Fire swirled inside her, oversensitive and still riding the pain and the last orgasm, her body trembled, shook and then with one more thrust she came. World shattering in its intensity, everything faded, blood rushing in her ears as ecstasy ripped the air from her lungs and set her skin on fire.
“Phee—” His cock jerked and she felt him twitch deep inside her, just before he pulled out and shuddered, coming against her stomach as his forehead met hers, their breaths mixing together. Still shivering, the orgasm rumbling like distant thunder through her nerves, it was a glorious wave of ecstasy that had her babbling his name, washing away the tension from her muscles like the tide leaving the shore. She was covered in sweat, and exhausted from the session, but more than anything she felt good. Incredibly good, and light, and—
“Wow…” she breathed, melting under him as her muscles turned to jelly.
He chuckled against her skin, smiling hard enough that she could hear it in his voice as he let her legs down and pressed her into the bed, the wetness coating them both. “Yeah, wow…” Kissing her again, she moaned against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. Everything in her buzzing with bliss, as he whispered, “I love you.”
Corrupt Desires Page 17