18. Alena

Those words escape me in a rush.

It's all I can think about.

My entire mind is mush. My body aches like a bruise, and no corner of my soul is left untouched. I lost track of when, but at some point, during one of Kristof's strikes, my core clenched in a way I've never felt before. With it came a deep, searing need to be touched by his hands, and each further strike of leather denied me such a touch.

Now, I'm begging for it.

"Please," I gasp wetly, saliva flooding my mouth as I stare at Kristof through a warm haze. Every fiber of my being cries out for him. I'm fucked up. There's no denying that now. I'm in pain, but I'm so turned on that it hurts in a different way. All I want is him.

Somewhere along the line, the pleasure and pain pathways in my brain seem to have gotten messed up because they're one and the same right now. Even the coolness of the wall behind me brings little relief while Kristof stands there and watches me.

"Please," I desperately gasp again. "You said you wouldn't fuck me until I–I asked, and, Sir, I'm here, begging you. Please. I'm so…" Words fail me, and I shake my head, barely feeling the strands of my hair that pull from being caught against my sweat-slicked skin.

"You're so…?" he asks, his voice deepening.

Everything around me falls away, and all that exists is him.

"I don't know. Everything hurts, but I feel so good at the same time, and I–I need you to touch me, please. Sir, please!"

"Pain and pleasure are the same if you treat it correctly," Kristof says. "I like pain. Clearly, you do too."

I'm fucked.

"Please." The word falls like a prayer from my lips as I pull at my restraints. What do I need to do to get him to touch me? To get a taste of that thick cock? Every breath grates against my throat, and my entire body throbs in time to my racing heart. I blink slowly, then suddenly, Kristof is taking off his shirt.

My heart stops.

The swirling black ink over the tanned skin of his arms has always been a favorite of mine. As he peels back his shirt, more is revealed. The ink swirls up in lines and patterns across his shoulders, then down his thick pecs. Through my haze, I can make out flowers and a few birds among thorns. All that detail surrounds a tiger whose hind legs and tail start at his abdomen, sweeping up his chest and out of sight under his right arm. The head and front paws reappear over his left shoulder. If I had the strength, I'd ask to see his back now that I'm sober enough to take in the details.

He's beautiful, and I ache for him.

Kristof surges forward, and his mouth collides with mine in a clash of biting teeth. He kisses me hard and deep. I moan immediately, eyes fluttering closed, and in the darkness, my body throbs red-hot. His bare chest presses against my swollen breasts, and the skin contact flares up a fire of pain across every welt and whip mark that decorates my body.

It's too much. I sob over his tongue as his kiss consumes me.

It's not enough. I try to press off the wall into his arms.

His rough hands stroke my sides, caressing down to my waist and gripping my hips like iron clamps. His tongue weaves against mine, and the kiss is so consuming I forget to breathe. Only when my chest burns and my body trembles does he break. Gasping for air, one of his hands cups my jaw tightly, and the pressure of his fingers makes me open my eyes.

"Ask me again, pet," he says slowly. His voice is so deep that the words might as well have been growled by the tiger on his shoulder.

I wet my lips. "Fuck me, Sir. Please fuck me, I need something, anything you can give me. I want you—no, I need you. Please, I?—"

My head flies back from his grip, and my entire body jolts upward as Kristof's thick cock suddenly thrusts into me with no warning. I didn't even hear his jeans fall, but it doesn't matter. He splits me open in one full thrust, spearing as deep as he can reach from this angle. My lips part in a silent scream, and then a deep curl of embarrassment warms in my chest as I come.

It's a powerful orgasm, one that consumes me in heat from head to toe and turns every flaring welt on my body into a point of pleasure. I writhe against the wall, caught between Kristof and my restraints. My eyes roll back while my pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock.

One touch and I came.

Kristof's deep, husky laughter reaches my ears as my orgasm slowly starts to fade.

"Well, you weren't kidding," he says in a low voice. I open my eyes, and our eyes lock together. All color has vanished from them. His pupils are blown so wide with desire that I'm simply staring into a heated darkness. I try to take a breath, but his cock is buried so deeply inside me that it feels like my very lungs are fighting for space.

"Please," I whisper hoarsely.

My last plea, my last request.

Kristof gives me my wish and begins to fuck me against the wall like the animal that paints his skin. He growls through clenched teeth while his hips pound into me hard and fast. I have no strength to do anything but take it, and it's utter bliss. Each deep, pounding thrust of his cock sends sparks of pleasure through my overstimulated body. His rough hands drag across my sensitive skin, caressing welts and whip marks right up to my breasts. His nails dig in like claws, groping and marking me. His mouth collides with mine once more in a deeply passionate kiss that he breaks quickly, then he kisses down my jaw and buries his teeth into my neck. His bite flares pain through my shoulder that mingles quickly with my deep satisfaction at being marked and claimed.

Is this heaven?

There's too much for me to keep track of, and my over-stimulated mind weaves between every point of contact. Everything hits me at the same time. The pleasure builds tightly in my core from every rapid thrust of Kristof's cock, the pain from contact to each raw mark on my skin, the flurry of tingles from each kiss and bite across my neck and shoulders, right to the burst of pleasure from the impact of his pelvis against my clit.

This is definitely heaven.

The room echoes with the slick sound of our fucking, of Kristof's grunts and pants mingling like music with my high-pitched moans and whines. We're becoming one, and my only distant thought is that I want to touch him.

The cuffs deny me. I'm just a doll now, fucked beyond sense by the man I've been infatuated with for years.

My heart races so fast that I can barely discern each beat, and Kristof's thrusts begin faltering from rhythm. His moans get rougher, and the pleasure coiling in my gut tightens to the point that my breath catches in my lungs.

I'm suspended, caught on the cusp, staring down into an infinite abyss of pleasure. My toes curl, my nails cut into my palm, and when Kristof suddenly yells and slams his hips deep inside me, I come again with a noiseless cry that he swallows with a deep, hungry kiss.

He grinds against me, writhing his full body against mine, and the flares of pain heighten my pleasure beyond anything I can fathom. His hips shudder, and this thick cock twitches inside me as he floods me with his cum. My pussy milks his cock with each tight ripple of muscle, and for a long moment, there's only us.

Just me, Kristof, and our mingled ecstasy.

I'm so caught up in that pleasure coursing through me with the deep satisfaction that Kristof gave me what I wanted that I don't notice the cuffs releasing from my wrists until my knees hit the floor.

My eyes snap open, and a sharp hiss of surprise escapes me. As I open my mouth to take a breath, Kristof's slick cock shoves past my lips. I barely have time to register the emptiness in my core from his missing cock before he thrusts all the way to the back of my throat, and I instantly choke. His strong hands tangle firmly into my hair, and he holds my head in place. The subtle saltiness of his cock washes over my tongue along with the familiar sweetness of my own slick.

"Don't you dare bite me," barks Kristof's voice from above.

The words wash over me like a wave, and it's a challenge to focus. His cock slides over my tongue, and his hands hold me in place as he fucks to the back of my throat over and over again. My lack of experience doesn't seem to matter here as Kristof takes control. I force myself to focus as tears build in my eyes after each reflexive gag that rolls through me when the head of his cock hits the back of my throat. The noise that escapes me each time is wet and sharp, yet Kristof seems to thrust harder the next time. All I can do is relax my jaw and focus on snatching air when I can.

His cock, thick and heavy and long, feels impossibly large in my mouth, and I can't fathom how it even fits inside my pussy. The shaft is a solid weight against my tongue, and the soft yet firm crown slides deeper into my throat with each rapid thrust. He fucks like a man possessed, with the same wild abandon that he fucked my pussy, and I'm here for the ride.

Distantly, I'm aware that I want to make this good for him, that I want to please him, but my mind is swimming with senseless thoughts all focused on how good I feel. All I can do is relax.

Then Kristof's cock slams deep into my throat and my eyes snap open wide. The pressure of his hands against the back of my head keeps me in place while my nose presses into the well-trimmed curls of hair at his pelvis. Tears flood my eyes. I finally shift, struggling for air as the pressure in my chest swells. When I glance up, Kristof's dark eyes stare down at me.

His cock twitches in my throat, and he moans deeply as he comes. A rush of heat and wetness floods down my throat, and I swallow on reflex, even as the urge for air swells like a balloon in my chest. As I stare up at him with fuzzy eyes and burning lungs, one of his rules drifts into my mind.

His cum over my air.

My chest tightens, and my mind drifts as I close my eyes.

Suddenly, his soft cock pulls free from my mouth, and I gasp wetly, coughing around the cum he left in my mouth. I'm in the air, surrounded by thick, strong arms, and by the time I open my eyes again, we're on the bed and Kristof is wrapped around me like a bear.

"Good girl," he says, his voice strong and warm. "I'm proud of you. You did so fucking good. So fucking good, Alena. You hear me?"

My body trembles from head to toe. I place one hand on his broad chest, tracing some of the ink there as he kisses my sweaty forehead and runs his hand gently over my abdomen.

"Good girl," he says again.

My chest tightens.

"This is the kind of obedience I want to see from you. Keep this up and you'll please me."

Fat, hot tears well in my eyes, and an unexpected, tired sob rises in my throat. Why am I crying? Crying after sex can't be normal, can it? I can barely gather my thoughts, never mind understand the overwhelming emotion taking over me, so words fail me. Instead, I turn into Kristof's chest and cling to him as he cuddles me close to his body and pets my hair.

"Talk to me, Alena," he orders.

Still, words fail me. After a few moments of crying into his shoulder, all I can think to say is, "Thank you, Sir."

Thank you for the attention, for the pleasure, for choosing me. Thank you for seeing the good in me.

All things I want to say, but I can't because in the space of a day, Kristof has shown me more care and attention than anyone else ever has in my life. More than that, in the space of ten minutes, he's told me all the things I've yearned to hear from anyone for years.

To be seen.

To be loved.

"I'm proud of you, Alena," he says, still petting my hair and cuddling me close as if trying to fuse us together. "I knew you were perfect."

His words make me cry harder, and my heart swells.

I am good for him.

That is all I care about.