“Fuck me, Cam,” she moans louder now, breaking protocol as she rises, arms slipping around my neck.
Her nipples are flushed and firm, begging for touch.
“You really don’t know how to follow rules, do you?” I growl, dragging my hands up her stomach, cupping her breasts. I roll her hardened nipples between my fingers, tugging on them until her moans turn shameless and raw.
This time, I don’t use my hand.
With one swift motion, I slide my undone belt free and double it over, the leather whispering as I push her back down and drag the buckle-end down her spine, slow and deliberate.
She shivers beneath the touch, and I guide the strap lower, over the curve of her ass, before pressing her down into the mattress again.
“This might sting,” I warn, voice low and taut with promise.
I drive into her, hard and deep—enough to steal the breath from her lungs. At the same time, the belt cracks down across her ass, the leather bite fierce and unforgiving.
Her entire body seizes—tightens—especially where she grips my cock like it’s the only thing anchoring her to earth.
“Ah!” she cries, collapsing into the mattress, her breath ragged and broken. “Fuck, that feels good.”
I bring the belt down again, this time from the opposite angle. Bright red welts bloom across her skin like fire trails.
Before she can recover, I slam into her again—fast, merciless. Her legs give out completely, her body held up by my grip alone.
My marionette. Mine to claim. Mine to wreck.
“This,” I growl, fingers digging into her hips until the skin blanches beneath my hold, “is mine. Your body belongs to me.”
“Yes!” she gasps—but whether it’s agreement or surrender to ecstasy, I can’t tell anymore.
Her body crumples beneath me, and the warm rush of her release spills over, coating my skin, dripping down my balls. That was what I’ve been waiting for.
I follow, burying myself deep as my cock jerks with each wave of release, emptying everything into her, filling her to the brim.
When I finally pull out, the mixture of our climax seeps down her trembling thighs in glistening streaks. I press two fingers to her swollen slit, plugging the drip, coaxing another ragged moan from her lips.
She’s spent—chest heaving into the sheets, face down and breathless. And I’m not far behind. My own breathing is shallow, my shirt soaked through with sweat, clinging to my skin.
But before I retreat, I withdraw my fingers and lean in close—hovering over her freshly wrecked body, inhaling the heady scent of sex and salt.
When she lifts her gaze to meet mine, dazed and drunk on endorphins, I command, “Open.”
There’s no hesitation. She flattens her tongue and parts her lips, receptive and pliant. I press my cum-slicked fingers to her mouth and watch her eyes flare wide.
But there’s no recoil.
She seals her lips around my knuckles and sucks—slow, greedy, swirling her tongue like she knows exactly what I want from her.
“Now I really do need to get to work, trouble,” I say with a smirk.
She’ll sleep off the high—boneless and blissed out—while I slip back into the shadows where I’m needed.
The uglier part of my world waits, demanding, relentless.
But knowing she’s in my bed, tangled in my sheets and lost in the afterglow… it makes the descent a little easier.
54
Nell
