Chapter 32

Vivian

He positions me more firmly across his knee, and I shiver. Then he slides my gown up the back of my thighs. His fingers graze my skin, and an electric current shoots up to my core. My center of gravity seems to have shifted to the space between my thighs, where a beat flares to life. My nipples tighten. I want this so much. I want him to punish me because I already know I'm going to love it.

Anticipation tightens my belly. Then, he tears off my panties, and I cry out. Cool breeze grazes my backside, and goosebumps crowd my skin.

"What are you doing?" I begin to turn around, but he throws a heavy arm across the small of my back. It effectively prevents me from seeing what he's up to, which only makes his touch more agonizing. And that only turns me on further.

If you'd asked me the most likely scenario in the hours following my wedding, I'd have said we'd be at the reception. I would not have, in a million years, guessed I'd be laid out across my husband's thick thighs, with what seems to be a baseball bat-sized arousal poking into my lower belly and his blunt fingertip teasing the forbidden hole between my butt cheeks. My pulse goes into overdrive. Oh my god, how can that feel so good? How can I want this so much?

All of my attention is concentrated on my backside, following his touch as he slips his fingers between my legs and grazes my slit.

"Jesus, you're soaking, and I haven't even begun."

"B-begun?" I squeak, then cry out when his palm connects with my arse. Slap-slap-slap, in quick succession—he alternates between the cheeks—again and again.

Each time he spanks me, my body moves forward. It feels like he's putting his bulk behind each hit.

Fire streaks up my spine, igniting my clit, the hollow behind my belly button, swirling around my breasts, circling about my nipples, connecting the pulse points at my ankles, my wrists, and at the base of my throat, until every cell in my body feels full and fiery and ready to burst into flames.

If this is how it feels to accept him as my master, then I want more.

If this is how it feels to have him discipline me, then I'm going to make him mete out punishment as often as I can.

When he stops, shudders zip through me. Little twitches of pain on the heels of which a fullness follows. My body feels heavy and light at the same time. I'm weighed down by coiled springs of desire, winding into themselves, tighter, tighter. He massages my backside, and little eddies of pleasure spiral out to my extremities. Another groan bleeds from my lips.

"Look at you, with my palm prints etched into the curve of your behind. You make me want to feast on your flesh. You make me want to lose myself in your tight little holes." He stuffs two fingers inside my pussy, and I shudder.

"Fuck, you're so ready, if I slapped your pussy, you'd come right here, wouldn't you, Raven?"

I try to speak, but all that comes out is a thin, needy sound that horrifies me. How can I sound so debauched, so greedy, so… unrestrained? I squirm around and my clit connects with the hard column of his thigh. Shockwaves of sensations travel to my brain. OMG, a honeyed sensation coils in my lower belly. I'm aware I'm humping his legs but cannot bring myself to stop. I coil my fingers around his ankle for leverage. He doesn't stop me as my movements get more frantic. Each time my clit connects with his thigh, the column at his crotch throbs. He's as aroused as me; that's my one consolation.

Moisture collects at my slit, and I dig my toes into the Manolo Blahniks which were delivered to me this morning. The note said, "I'm going to fuck my wife in these."

There was no signature, but of course, I knew who they were from. Now, when he runs his fingers around the edge of where the stilettos encase my ankles, I shiver.

He tugs and spreads my legs wide… Enough to show him my pussy.

"You've made a mess on my pants, little girl." He doesn't sound angry at all. In fact, he sounds proud, and a little awed.

Once more, I try to peek over my shoulder, but his arm across my body stops me.

"Do you want me to slap your pussy?" he asks in a low, hard voice. One which whips across my sensitized nerve-endings and makes the part in question throb. Do I want him to slap my pussy? And if he does, will I orgasm right away? And how much would I love that? I bet he knows that I would, which is why he's asking me the question. If I say no—would he punish me further? More moisture coats my slit at the thought. Wouldn't I enjoy that even more? I would. Totally. I can't wait to see what he'll do next. I shake my head.

"Hmm, we have much work to do here, don't we?"

"W-work?" I say in a high-pitched voice, then clear my throat. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I—" The rest of my words get stuck in my throat, for a strange buzzing noise fills the space.

"What's that?"

"You're going to find out when you're wearing it up your bum."

"Excuse me?" My eyes widen. Surely not. He… I… All thoughts drain from my mind when he pries my arse cheeks apart. The buzzing switches off. Then I hear the unmistakable sound of him spitting. Something slides down the valley between the cheeks. He spit on my back hole. What the… what? Then he draws the cum from my slit to my back hole. Oh! Oh! He's lubricating it. The thought barely strikes me before he eases something into my forbidden hole, then slips it past the ring of muscle of my sphincter, which holds it snugly.

"What did you do? You did not… Did you?—"

The buzzing sounds again, and my body bucks. Jesus H Christ, he made good on his earlier words. He actually inserted a?—

"A butt plug," he informs me.

"What the h-hell is that for?" I say through gritted teeth.

He pulls out his phone and his fingers fly over the screen. He must have touched an app which controls it, for that damned thing sets off a burst of vibrations inside me. "Oh my... Q!" I pant.

"Exactly," he says smugly.

Thankfully, the vibrations taper off, but the sensations continue to radiate outward and wind around my clit. I shiver. Then he pats my smarting butt, and hot twinges of pleasure-pain squeeze my lower belly. He rightens the skirt of my gown, before he clasps me around my waist and sits me down next to him.

"Oh god." The weight on my backside sends fresh sparks of pain shooting out from his fingerprints on my butt. I swear, I can feel each individual fingerprint of his fat fingers on my skin. That, combined with that vibrating plug in that forbidden part of me, which has no right being this sensitive, makes my eyes roll back in my head. Is it pain? Pleasure? A combination of the two that increases my pulse rate and makes my heartbeat gallop. I grit my teeth against the sensations streaking under my skin.

I must sway into him, for the next thing I know, he puts his arm around me and tucks me into his side, saying, "Relax." He kisses the top of my head. "The more you resist, the more aroused you're going to get, and I'm not going to let you come for a while."

"You sure have a way of boosting my confidence, don't you?"

He chuckles, and the rumbling sound under my cheek is strangely soothing. He rubs circles over the thin lace of my gown, which encases my upper arms. I shiver in response, yet it's also, weirdly, reassuring. Enough for me to tip up my chin and ask, "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Carry me out of our wedding like a neanderthal?"

"Because when it comes to you, I lose all sense. When I see you, all I know is that you're mine. And when I slipped my ring on your finger, I knew I couldn't wait any longer to bury myself in your soft throbbing cunt and fuck your hot pussy until you can't walk straight and bring you to the edge over and over again. So, when you finally come, you'll never think about anyone else but me, never want to wear any other man's scent on your skin but mine, never want to look at another man without remembering your husband is the only one who knows how to take your every hole and make you orgasm on command." He looks between my eyes. "You feel me, Raven?"