Chapter 33

THIRTY-THREE

Colin

I can't take this anymore. This wall that Owen has once again put up between us. It feels like I live alone at this point, and I can't stand it.

He doesn't even sleep in bed with me anymore. He's back to passing out on the damn couch or at his computer, if he sleeps at all. I hate how much it fucking hurts.

Owen's eyes open when he hears me enter the room. His gaze burns into me, heating my skin as I near him. My body is buzzing with arousal. I need him to touch me.

The pressure of the team is getting to him. I know it is. He needs a release too, but I'm beyond desperate. At this point, I don't care if he hurts me as long as his hands are on me.

I head to the couch where he's sitting, knees wide and shirt open at the collar. Gods, I want to lick at the exposed skin. It's not fair how much I need him when he doesn't really need me. I've spent years finding affection from men in the form of sex, and now I can't. I'm drowning in feelings I can't bury in pleasure. Jacking off doesn't hide the pain like someone wanting me does. This man doesn't want me. It's a lack of options, and that hurts so much more than I expected.

When I get to my husband, I let him trail his eyes over me. Taking in the silk covering my skin and the hard-on trapped in my jock hidden underneath. When his gaze gets back to mine, I turn and sit in his lap, my back pressed against his chest and my head on his shoulder. I roll my hips to grind my ass over his dick. He's not soft, but he's not hard either. I can work with that. Reaching up, I hook my hand around the back of his neck and arch my back, moaning when the plug in my ass moves.

"Please, Owen." My voice is breathy. "I need you."

He growls but doesn't move to stop me. His hands lay limply on the couch.

"What do you need?"

"I need you to fuck me like you hate me." I roll my hips and nip at his ear. A shudder runs through him, and I smile inside, knowing I'm getting to him. I don't want to have to convince him to want me, but I'm past the point of caring. I need him so badly it hurts, and desperation makes you do crazy things.

The shadows in my soul are starting to take over the light, making it fragile, and I'm terrified of what will happen when it's snuffed out. Of who I will become. Bitter and angry like my parents? I don't want to be like them.

"Please, husband." The word hitches in my throat, and finally Owen reacts. With one hand on my hip, the other slides up my body to grasp my throat. I bare myself to him, telling him with my body that he can have anything he wants.

His cock grows under my ass, and I bite my lip. He's so big. I want him. I need him to own me in the most primal way possible.

"You're a spoiled brat," he bites out against my ear.

"I'm sorry." My heart lurches. It's nothing I haven't heard before, but it's worse coming from him.

"Don't lie to me." His fingers flex against my throat. "Do you need to be treated like a whore? Like you're nothing more than a hole?"

Air catches in my lungs, and I almost sob. "Yes, please."

The hand on my hip moves to my cock, and I lift my feet to his knees to give him better access to all of me.

"The way you beg…"

Owen runs his fingers down my taint to the plug and freezes. I think I've caught him off guard with it. He traces the edge of it, then pulls slightly. Not enough to pull it out, just to put pressure on my rim. I moan, long and loud when he pushes against it, then pulls again. It's not a lot of movement, but it's something, and I'll gladly take anything he'll give me.

"Are you a worthless cumdumpster, princess?" He continues to tease me. "Do you need me to fuck you, then plug you back up until I want to use you again?"

"Oh fuck." My voice trembles with carnal need. My thighs clenching on instinct at the very idea of being used by him whenever the need arises. "Yes, use me."

The hand on my throat grasps my chin to turn my face toward him.

"You belong to me."

"Only you."

Owen crashes his lips to mine in a hungry, aggressive kiss. It's bruising and dominating, and I whimper into it. His possession sets me on fire.

He pulls the plug from me and tosses it aside, replacing it with his fingers and growls against my lips.

I ride his hand with no inhibition, loving having all of his attention.

Owen wraps an arm around my waist and stands. An undignified squeak leaves me at the sudden movement, but he strides to the kitchen counter and bends me over it. I'm not tall enough, so I lift onto my tiptoes and wait. The cold marble makes my nipples pebble, and a hiss of air leaves me, but the sound of a wooden spoon being picked up has me tensing.

"Wh—what are y—you doing?" Is he going to spank me? My ass and thighs tingle just thinking about it. Owen lifts the edge of my nightgown with the spoon, and I tremble. Fuck. If he spanks me in the mood he's in, I won't be able to sit for days.

"Hold your cheeks. I want to see what's mine."

With shaking hands, I reach behind me and pull my cheeks open. The cool air on my skin makes me shiver, and my cock pulse. I don't know what he'll do next, and that's erotic as hell.

Owen drops down into a crouch and blows on my exposed hole. I close my eyes and try to get my heart rate to slow down, but it's useless. He does this to me. Something about the way he fights me turns me into this blubbering, lust-filled mess.

The spoon hits my inner thigh with a resounding *thwack *, and I jump with a little squeak. It sounded a lot worse than it felt, but it scared me, nonetheless. Owen chuckles, and it does nothing to calm my nerves.

He smacks my other inner thigh with the spoon a little harder than the last one and stands. I hear the rustle of his clothes and feel the hot tip of his cock press against my hole. Oh fuck, this is going to burn.

"Wait! Lube?" The plug was lubed, and I made sure there was plenty inside of me, but he's dry and huge.

"You made your bed, now you have to lie in it."

He pushes against me, and his thick head pops past the ring of muscle.

"Oh, god," I whimper while I force myself to breathe.

The burn is so much more intense than I expected that my body tries to get away from him without any thought from me.

"Hold still, your slutty hole can take it," he demands and works himself in farther. In, out, in, out. Luckily, the lube I added starts coating him and makes the slide so much easier, but that burn is intense. Every time he goes a little farther, it starts over. Finally, his hips are against my ass. I'm sweating and shaking, and he's barely started.

Owen grips my shoulder and slowly pulls out, then thrusts in hard and deep. It's a mind-fuck. It still burns as my body adjusts to him, but it also feels so fucking good. I'm high on him.

I want to touch myself, but I'm still holding myself open to him. I don't know if I can come hands-free in this position. Will he help me finish? Send me to bed used and hard?

"Colin!" Owen bites out and grips my hair, pulling my chest off the counter. "Am I boring you?" His mouth is pressed against my neck as he speaks, then he sinks his teeth into my skin.

"I want to come," I beg. I dig my fingers into my ass cheeks in an attempt to do what he asked, but it's so hard.

Owen buries himself inside of me and stops, then lifts the nightgown until it's caught under my arms. I'm panting as he lowers my jock and wraps his warm hand around me. He strokes me slowly at first. His entire body is so much bigger than mine that in this position, I'm enveloped in him. As he strokes, his fingers cover my head, giving me extra stimulation and pushing me so much closer to the edge.

"Fuck me please, I'm going to come." My entire body is tight as I try to hold the impending orgasm at bay, and Owen groans into my neck.

"Fuck, you feel good." He starts to thrust, which pushes my dick into his fist. He finds a rhythm he likes, and my eyes roll back in my head.

"Don't stop," I beg. If he stops, I'll sob. His thrusts get harder as his hips snap against me in a lewd sound that echoes in our kitchen.

"Come, little whore. Show me how much you like being used."

I let my orgasm take me, spraying the cabinet and dripping on the floor with a bone-deep sob. He fucks me faster, deeper, as I come. Tears roll down my cheeks at the release I've needed for too long, both physically and emotionally.

Owen moans and grunts before his dick twitches and warmth spills inside of me. I finally let my body relax as I get what I needed from him. This is the only kind of affection I've allowed myself for years. It fills a part of my heart temporarily.

He stops moving, sagging against me and letting the counter hold us up as he pants for breath.

"Where did I put the plug?" he asks.

"I don't know." My brain has been reset by his dick, and there are no thoughts up here.

When Owen pulls out, I hiss and stand up. He walks over to the couch, looks around, and bends down to pick it up, then comes back to me.

"Bend over."

I whimper, but do what I'm told. I grunt at the cold metal against my heated skin, then moan as it soothes the abused flesh.

"Get some rest. I'll be using that hole again before morning."

After stumbling to our room and stripping off my clothes, I climb into bed. With my arms wrapped around my pillow, I pass out. My ass is deliciously sore, and my mind is quiet.

"I'll be using that hole again before morning."

His words are the last thought I have before my eyes close and I succumb to the dark.

I don't know how long I'm asleep for when pressure against my hole wakes me. I'm somewhere between conscious and asleep, my body loose and giving.

"Shhh princess, I'm using what's mine." Owen's words are soft as he rocks into me in slow deep thrusts. One of my legs is bent at the knee up by my side, and he's straddling the other one while he holds my hip in place.

Gods, this is the best I've ever felt. To be taken like this, like he couldn't wait until morning, so he had to use me now.

I whimper into my pillow, trying to stay loose and easy for him, but the longer it goes on, the more my body wakes up. My dick is hard and wants attention, rubbing against the soft sheets is only getting me so far.

"Please, Owen." I reach under me and palm my cock, but I don't have enough room to really jack off.

"Your greedy little dick wants to come again?" He chuckles, and I bite my lip to hold in the sounds. "Last time was about you. This is about me." His thrust is harder, almost brutal, and I cry out. "I'm going to use your slutty hole until I'm satisfied, not you."

I let a sob escape, and Owen digs his fingers into the muscles of my ass, lifting my cheek so he can get just a little bit deeper. His pace picks up, no longer slow and sweet but rough and hard. He's fucking into me like he hates me, and a part of me is afraid he does, but the other part doesn't care as long as he touches me. I need him to touch me.

"Don't stop–" I moan, cutting myself off before my secrets are laid bare before him. He doesn't need any more ammunition to destroy me. He's doing just fine on his own.

"You're such a whore, Colin." Owen leans over me to push my hands into the mattress and bite at my back and shoulders, marking me as his. These marks mean so much more to me than the wedding band.

"Only for you, husband. I'm your whore."

I ache to come, to touch myself, to ease the pressure.

"Why can't I get you out of my head? Thoughts of fucking you invade me constantly."

He's angry now, at himself and at me. He's making my body take the brute force of it, but I love it. I love the roughness, the bite of pain that lances through my pleasure. It makes me throb and feel alive. Love is pain, at least that's what life has taught me.

"Because you want me and you hate that anyone else has ever fucked me." I can't stop myself from picking at him. Owen is a possessive bastard, and I like getting a reaction from him. Knowing he's not going to let me come just encourages me to run my mouth, to get under his skin.

He freezes above me, then in a flash he's flipped me over onto my back and shoving his way back inside of me. I arch against him, the new angle rubbing against my prostate, and it won't take long for me to come untouched.

"Open your fucking mouth," Owen demands with his fingers digging into my cheeks.

I do, sticking my tongue out for good measure. He spits in my mouth, then shoves two fingers in deep enough to gag me. Where the fuck did he learn that?

He drops down onto me, giving me his weight and putting his mouth next to my ear. "Do you like being treated like a whore, princess?"

"I like being fucked," I say around his fingers.

Owen lifts up onto his hand and slams into me, brutal and unrestrained. Taking everything my body will give and demanding more. I will be sore as fuck when he's done, but I don't care. It's a part of him no one else sees. Maybe now he'll give into this need he has for me more often. Even if he hates me for it.

His pupils are blown with lust and fury, deep pits of hatred and frustration. I revel in it. Do I wish he would love me? Sure, but that's not in the cards for me. This I can work with. I can survive here.

"Your holes are mine, to be used when I say, by me. If I ever find out you've let someone else touch you, I'll make sure they disappear." He's half crazed and letting his possessiveness come out. He only shows it when I've pushed him too far.

It has nothing to do with me though, not really. If I leave or die, his mother will force him to marry someone else. I'm the lesser of two evils. But I'll accept it. I'll enjoy it even. Pushing the Godfrey boys to get a reaction has been my favorite pastime for years.

"I hate how much I want you," Owen growls and sits up onto his knees, changing the angle to perfectly drag his gorgeous cock right where I need it.

"Yes, fuck me," I beg as my body tightens and my orgasm is forced from me on a yell.

Cum lands up my stomach and chest, hits my chin, and Owen groans low in his throat, shivering and jerking his release into me. I sag onto the bed, sweaty and used and boneless.

Owen pants for a second, his head dropped forward before he lifts it and pins me with a stare. "Tomorrow I have to train. You'll leave me alone to do so."

I give him a satisfied smile. "Yes, husband."