Chapter 30

-Jared-

I pushed her back, and she didn't even try to fight me.

"We really should go back," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"We can be quick," I argued, pushing her down on the bed and positioning myself on top of her.

Her breathing turned ragged simply feeling me pressed against her, and I slid my hand into the slit of her dress, grazing my nails over her thigh, watching as her eyes grew even more heated as she looked up at me.

"I think black suits you quite well too," I murmured teasingly.

"F-For what?" she stuttered, her voice betraying a mix of confusion and arousal.

"For your next collar," I teased further.

"Jared..." she trailed off, her breath catching in her throat as I brushed her lips with mine before pulling back.

"Not my name," I teased, relishing in the playful banter.

"We can't stay here. We need to go downstairs," she pleaded.

"We can be fast. You come in seconds for me, Alison," I taunted her, aware of the effect my words had on her and reveling in her embarrassment.

My hand found her panties, sliding them aside so I could touch her wet pussy.

"Always crying for me," I mocked her, hearing her groan in response as I located her clit, teasing it with my fingers and feeling her hips lift in silent invitation.

"If they find out, I'm in so much trouble," she whispered, her voice trembling with apprehension.

"Then it's a good thing that turns you on," I countered.

"I think it's you it turns on knowing I will suffer the consequences," she argued, her words punctuated by a soft moan as I pressed my lips to hers in a demanding kiss, effectively silencing any further protest.

"Come for me."

"Jared…"

"Right now. Come for me," I demanded. It was evident she doubted I could simply command her pleasure, but within seconds, she began to tremble, whimpering against my lips, sending a jolt of need through me. This was bound to be quick.

"Oh, fuck..." she gasped.

"Good girl. I told you it would only take seconds," I remarked.

"I hate you."

"You hate how much you crave me," I teased, pulling away prematurely, eliciting a protest whimper from her. I pushed away more of her dress, then swiftly undid my pants, freeing my throbbing cock. Alison eagerly widened her legs, beckoning me closer. Leaning over, I entered her in one firm thrust, causing her to gasp into my ear.

It spurred me on, craving those gasps, and with each thrust, I ensured to pull back and drive in just as forcefully, transforming her gasps into whimpers as she welcomed every vigorous movement. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound of our clothes rustling mingling with our heavy breathing. I reached for her injured arm and grasped it firmly, pressing my nails into the marks. She hissed, and I plunged deep once more, merging pain with pleasure.

"It's only me who gets to leave marks, isn't that right, slut?" I whispered into her ear.

She nodded against me, prompting me to bite her neck.

"Words, Alison," I demanded.

"Yes," she breathed, her hands finding their place on my hips, urging me closer. "Only you."

I knew her complete submission would be satisfying, marking a moment where I finally held the power. Yet, it shocked me how addictive it was, reminiscent of our twisted games. It should have served as a warning, echoing Vince's words about craving Alison's love and being unable to let go.

However, the pleasure was too intoxicating, the satisfaction of knowing I could bend her to my will. Though I hadn't initiated the fractures in her life, I had shattered her, and now she bowed to me completely. It drove me to move faster, consumed by these thoughts, reveling in the knowledge that I had utterly conquered her, and she would always submit to me. That absolute control was a dangerous allure, but I had no desire to relinquish it.

"Don't come inside me," she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation.

"That's not up to you, slave," I taunted, wanting her to drip my cum as we ventured downstairs. Not even her husband's arm around her would alter the fact that I still remained between her thighs.

"I already look like a mess. I'll be stuck up here even longer cleaning up," she reminded me.

"I really don't give a shit," I responded, my breath ragged with desire as I neared climax. She made no effort to push me away, instead rolling her hips to meet mine with each thrust, ensuring I hit that spot that elicited those delicious cries every time I penetrated deeply.

However, a wicked idea took shape in my mind. "Either I come inside you, and you get to climax as well, or you get on your knees with a throbbing pussy that's left very unsatisfied."

She groaned, torn between her desires. Yet, I was determined to finish inside her one way or another. She had the choice of where she wanted it, but if she wished to climax too, I would remain where I was.

"Make your choice quickly, Alison, because I'm almost there."

"Fuck, so am I!" she protested.

"Well, you don't get to have it both ways," I chuckled, nibbling her neck to remind her she needed to make a decision. She wrapped her legs around me, squeezing me with her thighs, and I was certain she had relented, ready to let my cum drip from her all night. But then, she shoved her hands into my chest.

"All right, I'll get on my knees, just get off," she insisted.

I groaned, reluctant to stop now. Just two or three more thrusts, and I would be spilling everything I had into her. However, I halted my movements, feeling the orgasm recede slightly. Glaring down at her, I found her resolute in her decision. She would willingly endure the ache for the rest of the night rather than allow me to come inside her.

"Very well," I conceded, pulling out of her. She adjusted her dress before sliding to the floor.

She reached for me, and I grasped her hair, pulling her closer. She wrapped her lips around me, cleaning her own release off me as she sucked me deeply, so adept at taking me inside her mouth. A name slipped from my lips like a whisper, triggering a hazy memory of Astrid on top of me, only for me to call out Alison's name as I reached climax.

It seemed my wife wasn't lying, but it was Alison I had envisioned riding me, not her. Nevertheless, reality surpassed any fantasy, and the overwhelming need to climax consumed me. I pushed her further down onto me, and she gagged around me as I began to thrust into her mouth. I couldn't hold back for long, but the sounds she made as I dominated her only heightened the pleasure to new heights.

"Fuck, slut, how have you become so skilled at this? I fucking hope you haven't been practicing with your husband. You know what will happen if you have."

She hummed around me, her hands resting on my thighs as she allowed me to use her. I groaned darkly, feeling the orgasm spread through me as I released inside her throat, making her swallow every drop before I pulled away and immediately began dressing.

She wiped her lips, and as I reached out to grasp her chin, I noticed tears glistening in the corners of her eyes that weren't tears of sadness.

"Have you?" I questioned darkly.

"No. I'm not interested in him touching me anymore."

"But will you let him?"

She stared up at me, confusion evident in her expression. "You're with Astrid. Can't I be with Warren?"

"No."

"Seems a bit unfair," she pointed out.

"Life is unfair. You don't get to be with him."

"So I'm just supposed to sit around waiting for you?" she retorted.

"Exactly."

"You can't have your own little harem."

"Trust me, once Astrid is pregnant, I am staying as far away from her as I can, which gives me plenty of free time. So tell me, Alison, what should I use that free time for?" I goaded her, noticing her eyes widen with interest.

"Um, didn't you say you needed it to stop? Your desire to see me?" she asked.

"Or maybe I should accept that you're a disease I can't get rid of."

"Lucky me," she snarled.

I managed a slight smile, though I knew I had to bring it to an end. Just because Astrid was pregnant didn't justify my spending time with Alison. I shouldn't have even slept with her, but someone else had left their mark on Alison, which I found displeasing. I had engraved my initials in her skin for a reason—to signify that she was off-limits to others. Yet, my original plan had derailed, leaving me with a dilemma: surrender to Alison completely or watch her world burn alongside her father's.

"Can I go clean up now?" she asked, surprising me with her request for permission, while I still held her chin firmly.

Release her, I instructed myself, but instead, I tightened my grip, hearing her whimper as my fingers dug into her skin.

"Jared?" she called, something stirring within me. As I entertained the notion of obliterating Alison entirely, not just breaking her, but ensuring her life went up in flames, an inexplicable desire arose within me—the desire to not let her go.

A constant force, I reminded myself. She represented a harsh form of stability, but stability nonetheless. Even after surrendering to me and seeing beyond the fa?ade, Alison remained. Whenever I desired her, she opened her legs. Whenever I sought a challenge, she responded. She knelt when ordered, yet she never capitulated. She provoked me, knowing I relished the fight—for that was who Alison truly was.

"Master?" she ventured, and it took every ounce of willpower to release my grip, easing the pressure on her chin.

I slowly withdrew, her confusion evident as she looked up at me.

"Is something the matter?" she inquired.

Stupid fucking abandonment issues, I chastised myself.

"You should probably hurry," I cautioned, making a hasty retreat to the door, needing distance to clear my thoughts.