Jordan hammered into her, hard and fast, pinning her down, dominating her completely, and Trish bowed her head, pressing her face to the mattress as ecstasy ran over her. She screamed as she came, her pussy spasming around him.
He let out a hoarse cry as he crouched over her, his hips slamming into her ass with his final thrusts.
“Mine,” he growled as his hold on her tightened possessively.
Trish cried out again as his cock throbbed inside her, heat flowing into her pussy with every spurt of cum. Slowly, his weight bore her down to the mattress as his cock pulsed, until she was flattened beneath him, his forehead pressing against her upper back between her shoulders, his hand still on her wrists. Trish’s breathing slowed as she lay there, warm and safe, beneath him.
After a few long moments, Jordan gave her a gentle kiss on her shoulder and moved away, pulling his softened cock from her body.
Trish rolled over onto her back and started to get up to move toward the bathroom, only to let out a little shriek as she found herself pulled back onto her back and Jordan scowling down above her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice demanding.
Wide-eyed with surprise, Trish stared up at him. “To the bathroom to um…” She waved her hand at her messy pussy. “I need to clean up.”
Frowning, Jordan grabbed her hand, and, the next thing Trish knew, she was in a familiar position—cuffed to the headboard. It wasn’t a position she’d expected to be put in right now, and indignation and surprise bubbled up inside her as Jordan got up to head toward the bathroom.
“Why can’t I clean myself off?” Trish called after him, tugging at the chain on the wrist cuffs even though it would be useless. She wasn’t mad, exactly, just… frustrated and annoyed… and perturbed.
She’d agreed to stay; why was he chaining her up again? And why was some part of her relieved that her answer hadn’t changed his controlling ways? Relieved and aroused, despite her having just come. Or maybe she was getting used to multiple orgasms.
Jordan emerged from the bathroom, still scowling, with a washcloth in his hand. It would be damp and warm, ready to clean her. “Because I do that.”
He didn’t ask why she’d want to change it—typical Jordan—he just grabbed her ankle and pulled her legs open. Trish tried to squirm away.
“But I can do it!” she protested, ignoring the secret thrill of being manhandled by him.
He couldn’t mean to go on the way things had been before, could he? She’d said ‘yes’ to staying; she’d seen what that had meant for Laura and Chevie and the others; yet she’d… well, she’d expected Jordan might behave a little differently now.
“You don’t need to because I’ll take care of it,” he said ruthlessly, before his voice softened just a touch as he pressed the warm cloth to her pussy. Trish shuddered as he rubbed gently, making her pussy tingle with the soft pleasure.
“But what if I want to?” The question came out much softer than the challenge Trish had meant it to be—more like a child’s whine. She was feeling rather pouty, which she’d never been allowed to be while growing up in the orphanage.
“Too bad.”
Now it was Trish’s turn to scowl. “You can’t just… I chose to stay here—shouldn’t I get some say in what happens now?”
“No.” Jordan tossed the cloth away and settled his big body between her legs, his face lowering toward her pussy. “You asked what would happen if you stayed, and I told you; we’ll keep doing the same thing we’ve been doing. This is what we’ve been doing. You can follow the rules or you can get a spanking and then follow the rules.”
“Wait!” Trish protested as he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pried them apart to the amount he preferred, which left her pussy open and vulnerable. She tried to twist her hips to move away from him, but it was a useless act as his arms were far stronger than her legs or probably her entire body. “We should… Oh!”
His tongue swiped up the center of her pussy, an electric sensation against her swollen folds. Trish wriggled again, but, with her wrists bound and her lower body pinioned, there was nothing she could do against the pleasurable, oral assault on her already sensitive flesh.
“I want… to talk… about…” Trish moaned and panted between the words she forced out as Jordan licked and sucked on pussy, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. “Jordan! You have… to stop…”
“No,” he said succinctly, before returning to feast on her pussy. Her ass quivered around the plug.
His hand moved up to her breasts and squeezed them harshly as she began to try to speak again. Trish whimpered atthe new stimulation, her nipples pressing into the palms of his hands as she squirmed against his tongue.
“I want to talk!” she managed to gasp out the words before squealing as his fingers plucked at her nipples, pinching the tender buds.
Trish couldn’t remember what she wanted to talkaboutat this point—she was having so much trouble focusing on anything but the rising pleasure in her core—but she wanted to talk. And Jordan was using sex to quiet her.
It turned Trish on, even as it frustrated her.
“Jordan!”
His fingers pinched her nipples, hard, twisting and tugging before releasing them and going back to playing with her breasts as he licked his way up and down her pussy. Trish whimpered and squirmed, although now she wasn’t sure if she tried to get away or to get his mouth closer to her clit—where she craved the stimulation most and where he avoided licking her, now.
