Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

AUGUSTA

L ust drips through my veins at his filthy words. With each smack of his hand against my upturned bottom, I burn all the hotter. His fingers slide in and out of that forbidden hole with an ease that should humiliate me, but I find I cannot bring myself to care.

Not now. Not when every inch of me is screaming for this. He's merciless, relentless, twisting my insides as he threatens to shatter my mind. Even now, I feel myself drifting on the cusp of nothingness. It's like the last time. Warmth envelopes me, trying to drag me under.

I want nothing more than to luxuriate in the feel of his hands roving over my body, owning me, controlling me, but I find myself splintering into nothing. And then, everything stops. A sharp smack of that blasted wooden instrument of torture shakes the cobwebs loose until I'm coherent once more.

"None of that," he purrs, running his fingertips over the swollen tissue as if admiring his handiwork. "I want you to feel every inch of me slide into you, claiming your naughty bottom hole as mine."

The area in question spasms. Whether it's in need or fear, I cannot tell yet. The images from earlier flash into my mind, making me draw a ragged breath. So huge. Far larger than the piece of glass I've been sliding up there the last few days.

"Please, Your Grace," I whimper. "I cannot. It won't fit. It just won't."

He chuckles as he grazes the area. "It will fit. Have no doubt about it. I will make it fit."

"You wish to split me in two?" Hysteria tinges my voice as I thrash about in the restraints. "Please do not harm me in this way. If I perish, there will be questions. You will not leave unscathed."

Silence looms between us for a moment. "You think this act will be your end? Oh, if only it were that convenient. No, my dear. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for far longer than tonight."

His fingers go to that shameful place once more, but I can't keep my mind from spiraling out of control. "Please, Your Grace. I must insist."

When he pulls away this time, he smacks the sensitive spot, making me jerk forward while howling in discomfort, and making me so very painfully aroused. "You are not in a position to insist anything."

"A- a request then?"

"You may ask. I may not grant it."

"I wish to see the object of my destruction before you use it on me."

Moments go by, and for a fraction of time, I worry he hadn't heard me. But soon, his body vibrates against mine as chuckles drift from his lips.

"I've had my cock called many things, but object of destruction was never one of them. I might have to remember that for later."

Though I cannot crane my neck enough to watch his movements, I hear him shuffling around. After a bit, he stands in front of me long, thick, and proud. I study his cock, taking in the thick veins and soft looking skin. Though it's close to the drawing, I find they're nowhere near accurate enough.

But then, it's not as if I could draw any better. My talents always lay with more mental pursuits rather than art. Still though, if only I could apply pencil to paper, I'd love nothing more than to capture the magnificence of his thick shaft and ruddy head.

What I can only assume is his seed pearls at the top and drips down, ever so close to my face. The scent of him is far more potent and stronger. Cloves and sandalwood swirl around me until I'm nearly dizzy from it. Groaning, I stick out my tongue, hoping to taste what's so freely offered.

"Well now, am I so terrifying? That you wish to taste me gives me far more pleasure than I can express." He squats a bit lower and juts his hips forward until the tip of him hovers at my lips.

Without even thinking, I lap at the small slit, taking his seed into me. It's far more decadent than I could have imagined. When talking with the girls, they never spoke of this. Perhaps it's far more intimate than they were willing to share.

I close my eyes and groan as I taste him. It's a flavor without a name, something I have no means of comparing. The bitter notes dance about my tongue like the aftertaste of the darkest chocolate mixed with the bitterness of coffee. Somehow, the tang of salt brings it all together as one.

"Bloody hell," he groans, shifting his hips back and forth.

Wrapping my lips around his tip, I latch on and suckle, drawing more of his seed into me. It's an obsession I never thought to have. I want more. More of him, more of his seed, and more of his rough touch as he tells me how naughty I've been. Because, honestly, I've never felt more naughty, more wanton than I do now.

"That's enough," he hisses, pulling out of my mouth. "I still intend to punish you and would rather not have to wait for my body to recover from your innocent questing."

I blink at him, still unsure of what he means, but he doesn't elucidate. Instead, he strokes himself in front of me, taunting me as even more bits of seed tip out onto his fingers. "Do you still find me terrifying?"

"In truth, I thought you would be far bigger."

He stops, his hand pausing mid stroke. "What exactly were you expecting?"

Blast. I could curse my mouth for opening. Why couldn't I have just admired his length and be done with?

"I'm waiting. What did you expect? What nonsense did the wives fill your head with? Or am I not the first you've seen?"

"I… I…"

"I… I… I'm waiting." He plants his hands on either side of his hips, his erection bobbing as he scolds me.

"You are the first bit of male flesh I've laid my eyes upon," I hedge, circumventing the actual truth. "In truth, I've never laid eyes on a human phallus before."

He narrows his eyes. "Human phallus is very specific. But I suppose you could have surmised my aptitude from horses or other livestock."

I sag against the bed and relief flows into me. "Quite right, Your Grace. Compared to a stallion, you are quite adequate."

"Adequate." The word is mumbled under his breath, but I don't miss the layer of aggravation there. "I'll show you adequate."

He walks around the bed until he's back behind me. Now that I know what he personally looks like, I can picture him stroking himself as he studies my bottom hole. Though not as enormous as the drawing led me to believe, he's still far larger than the apparatus he forced me to open myself up with.

The fear that he will split me in two is still there in the back of my mind, threatening to make me fall apart. Even as he slides who knows how many fingers past the tight ring, I tense, not knowing what's coming next. Again, something the others didn't talk about.

Maybe I'm the only one who has to take it this way. If the others go by the edict that naughty girls get taken in the back entrance, then maybe they're just far better than I am. Tears wet my cheeks as he prepares me for my punishment.

It's not that I try to be naughty. Naughty just seems to happen to me for some reason. I wish I knew how to be graceful, dainty, and boring. But that's not me. My soul longs to fly free, to try things, to learn by doing, even if society says it shouldn't be so.

No and don't are the most thrilling words in the world to me, but mostly because I know fun is attached to those words. Maybe something is amiss in my brain. That which I ought not do, I find myself inexplicably drawn. And that which I'm supposed to do, I find to be the most dull.

"Your tears will not save you, but they are appreciated all the same."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you? Are you truly? Or are you more sorry you got caught?"

"I… I don't know. I just wanted to have a bit of fun."

"At least you're honest. It's my turn to be honest. This will most likely be uncomfortable to you. It might even be painful. But something tells me you'll enjoy it all the more. You seem to enjoy all my punishments."

"Not all of them," I grumble. "That paddle can get chucked into the Thames and I'll not cry over its loss."

His dark chuckle drifts over my skin, making me shiver in its wake. "I applaud and appreciate how honest you remain even in the face of adversity. I can never fault you for that."

My breath hitches in my throat as he drags out his fingers and notches something far larger at the back hole. There's no escaping now. Slowly, he drives forward, forcing me open with the girth of his massive cock. Feeling it and seeing it are two different things.

If visually, I thought him to be a bit smaller, sensationally, he's far larger than I could ever imagine or prepare for. A needy whine claws at the back of my throat as he groans, easing into me with such slow precision I want to sob. Try as I might, I cannot escape it. His thrusts are an inexorable force that pushes me further and further into madness.

"That's it, my naughty minx. Take my cock up your arse like the needy troublemaker you are. You like this, don't you?"

I cannot answer. It's hard enough to breathe, let alone form words. He's so large, so impossibly thick, as he invades my body, impaling me on his hard shaft.

"I do so love watching your quim weep for me as I defile this delightfully deviant puckered back hole."

In truth, his filthy words seem to make me even more aroused, far wetter than I have ever been since meeting this devil of an Alpha. Lurid moans flit from my lips as I rock against the bed, desperate to find my release. But my tormentor thought about that.

When he lashed me down to the bed, he kept me far enough away from the edge to prevent me from pleasuring myself as he takes me as his own. Dropping my head against the sheets, I clench the fabric in my hands as white-hot need pours over me.

He keeps pushing in deeper and deeper, somehow not coming to his base despite how long he's been tormenting me. I was wrong when I said he wasn't big. The length and girth of him seems to be endless. How much more will I be able to take before my mind splits as savagely as I feared my body would?

After several agonizing moments, the sensation changes. I find myself stretched even more. What devilry is this? My fingers scrabble over the sheets as I try to acclimate to this new discomfort. All the while, he runs his hand up and down my back as if trying to soothe me.

"There now, minx. I'm almost in. You're taking me so well. God, Augusta, how you drive me mad."

His words are a balm to my tattered soul. At least I'm not the only one suffering. Granted, his is far less than mine. It has to be.

After a few more moments, crisp hair abrades my sensitive flesh as he sinks all the way in. The lower part of him grazes my other opening with each little adjustment, nearly driving me feral. Though I'm as stuffed as I've ever been, I still feel so empty, so incomplete.

I need his fingers on my clit as desperately as I need air. "Please," I cry out. "I cannot bear it any longer. I must find release."

"This is the only punishment that works with you, my insatiable little minx. Take it with the grace of a duchess. Show me your repentance."

Tears flow from my eyes as he moves again. Not from pain. Far from it. Need coils within me like a living thing, like a snake winding around and taking hold. My clit throbs from lack of attention, but I bear it as best as I can. Perhaps if I'm finally good enough, he'll give me the release I seek.