Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“This is the only way to deal with you. The only way to make you listen. You have to be reminded who’s in charge.” Again, he makes contact, then again. Against the thin material of my leggings and the almost nonexistent thong underneath, his hand might as well be a whip. Every strike leaves me howling into the mattress, the blankets clutched in my fists.
“Don’t like that so much, do you?” Smack! “You’ll think of this the next time you want to smart off to me, won’t you?” Smack!
It’s excruciating, the pain. The humiliation.
And oh, God, it’s making me wet. By the time he lands the sixth or seventh below, the crotch of my panties is stuck to my pussy. I’m so ashamed. I shouldn’t like this. But then, I shouldn’t have liked a lot of what he’s done to me, should I? I don’t know what makes me hate him more: the things he does or the things he shows me about myself, things I didn’t know before I met him.
“You do not talk back to me.” He hits me again, and the force of it makes me scream. I’m somewhere beyond pain now and beyond pleasure, too. It’s a sensation, pure and simple, and I’m going to shatter from the force of it.
“Don’t like that so much, do you? Maybe you should have thought of that before you defied me.” He yanks down my leggings, the thong with it. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of his knowing laughter. “I knew it. You never let me down when it comes to this.” He runs his palm over my tender ass, and I whimper from pain and pleasure. My body acting on its own as I roll my hips and drive my pussy against the edge of the mattress.
“Dripping wet,” he whispers. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you bring this on to have an excuse for me to punish you. Is that what it is?”
I thought it was a rhetorical question, but I guess I was wrong because he takes me by the hair and pulls my head back, his mouth close to my ear. “I asked you a question. Is that what it is? Do you get off on your punishment?” All I can do is groan in discomfort and dismay. He laughs nastily, pressing my face back down against the mattress and grabbing my pussy with the other hand. “All this time, this is what you’re craving. Hoping you can get me angry enough that I’ll do things to you.” He shoves his fingers inside me, and I cry out my pain and my shame, and yes, pleasure, too. I want this. I need this.
“Fine,” he grunts, fucking me hard and fast with his fingers. Stretching me, making me writhe beneath him. He lets go of my head in favor of undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. “You can’t say I don’t give you what you want.”
And then he’s filling me, slamming himself against me, deep inside me. There’s no pretending we’re in this together. He’s taking me, using me, holding me by the back of the neck, and pinning me down while he pounds into me like I’m nothing. Like I’m no one, just a hole to fuck and fill. My cries go unheard—either that, or he likes them and responds by fucking me harder, relentlessly, while all I can do is hold on until it’s over. There’s something unhinged about him, something wild and vicious. I just need it to be over.
“Oh, yeah… fuck, I’m gonna come… you’re gonna make me come…” I close my eyes and brace myself an instant before he slams into me one last time, going stiff and then finally still. I feel it, his cum. It floods my insides with a rush of warmth. I let out the breath I was holding, weak with relief now that he’s finished.
He hates me. He must truly hate me. How else could he do that to me? And now I’m not crying from the physical pain. There’s a much deeper pain in my heart. We could’ve had so much if only things had been different. If only.
I press my palms to the mattress, ready to get up, but his hand on my neck keeps me pinned in place. “Where do you think you’re going?” he pants, still locked with me, his lower half flush with mine.
“I was getting up,” I whisper, trembling. What is this? Another game?
“No, you aren’t. Not yet.” He leans down, his breath hot in my ear. “Remember, we need to get you pregnant. Stay right there, just like that.” And he stays, too, long after he should.
All I can do is weep quietly, torn between wanting this to work so it can be over as quickly as possible and hoping it never does because I’m not sure I want to bring this man’s child into the world. Not when he shows me the almost endless depths of darkness and depravity he’s capable of.