by Anthology
He eased just the head past her lips. She sucked and swirled her tongue around to lap up the tiny beads of precome. As he worked himself deeper, she relaxed her jaw and tilted her head a bit. He liked to fuck her mouth. He liked when she remained still and let him thrust at his own pace.
She sucked to the rhythm he set and drew her tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock. He sank into her farther than he’d ever tried before.
“Swallow, Trish. I want you to take all of me.”
On his next thrust, she did as he commanded. His cock pressed into the sensitive tissues in the back of her throat, bringing tears to her eyes, but his moan and the shudder of pleasure that ran through him made the discomfort completely worth it.
He thrust several more times and withdrew just when she became used to the rhythm of his deep thrusts. She sat back on her heels and guessed at the game he played.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the dresser, he took a drink and handed it to her. Suddenly aware of her thirst, she gulped the rest of it and handed the empty bottle back to Justin. His carefully neutral expression and the light glinting from his hot eyes unnerved her. She fidgeted under his perusal.
“Sit still, Trish. You’ll have an orgasm when I give you one, not sooner. Misbehaving will only get you into trouble.”
Her chin came up. Had flogging her been a punishment, or was the way he played with her now a punishment?
He chuckled softly and set the empty bottle on the dresser. “Relax, Trish. I’ll always let you know when I’m punishing you. Like now. Cup your breasts. Lift them for me.”
She did as he asked, and he dropped to his knees in front of her. She didn’t expect a kiss, but he grasped her head and held her still while he plundered her mouth. Moisture dripped from her pussy, running down her thighs in a silent plea.
When he ended the kiss and settled back, she noticed the delicate chain in his hand. Nipple clamps. Damn. They were still sore from earlier.
Dipping his head, he took one nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard and rolled the little nubs against his teeth. She cried out, but he didn’t stop. A vise clamped around her breast, and it took her a moment to realize she squeezed her own flesh in her hands.
The sharp pulls of pain radiated through her body, mingling with the feeling of fire that covered her back, thighs, and ass. He thrust two fingers into her wetness, and she struggled to remain upright against the push and pull of the different pressures he exerted on her.
His talented, knowing fingers found her sweet spot immediately. He switched nipples, torturing the other while he drove her to the brink of madness. One more thrust.
“Please don’t stop.”
She begged, but he had withdrawn again.
“Punishment, my love.”
She whimpered in protest. “You’re going to kill me with wanting.”
In response, he pulled her nipples, stretching them until she cried out. He didn’t bother to show her the simple clamps he’d used last time. He just slipped them on and tightened them down. He didn’t make them as tight as last time, but she was much more sensitive now, so that much pressure would be too much stimulation.
He stepped back and watched her face, looking for something. She peered back at him, waiting expectantly. Despite what he said about no orgasms, she didn’t really think he’d leave her hanging. They’d come a long way toward reconnecting today. They couldn’t sustain that momentum without multiple orgasms. He’d already delivered several, and Trish knew this was only the beginning. The gleam in Justin’s expressive blue eyes told her that he’d developed a taste for domination.
He pushed to his feet, his knee crackling as he stood. “Crawl to the bed and bend over the side.”
She didn’t like that order, but she complied without arguing or asking after his knee. Bent over, her tender breasts pressing into the mattress, she waited for her Master to decide the next sensation. With an impatient nudge, he kicked her feet apart.
“Don’t move, Trish. Not one inch.” He reached between her legs, parting her swollen slit. He massaged her pussy with her own cream.
Trish writhed, and a stinging swat landed on her ass. Sweet pain radiated from the contact. She jumped and cried out, involuntarily trying to escape.
“Mine, Trish. You belong to me. You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll be still when I tell you to be still.” Justin rained blows on her ass, spreading them evenly over both cheeks. Tears came to her eyes, and she squirmed, unsure whether she wanted this much stimulation. She didn’t want to disappoint Justin. Her desperate, primal urge to please him couldn’t be denied.
All of a sudden, the sensations converged, blooming into a pleasure unlike anything she’d experienced. Urgency turned to patience. Peace and the largest orgasm in existence loomed within her reach. She moaned and relaxed into his punishment. “Yes, Justin. Yes. Please don’t stop.”
He stopped. She whimpered in protest, but she didn’t voice her displeasure. “Punishment is over, my lovely slave.” He removed the clamps, and her nipples throbbed. His cockhead eased into her pussy opening. His fingers pulled her ponytail from where he’d tucked it under the last loop of elastic. He wound her hair around his hand and pulled her head back.
For the first time, Trish noticed the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall next to the bed. Her flushed face stared, wide-eyed with wonder, from the reflection. Behind her, Justin, equally flushed, wore a look of triumphant determination that made her melt all over again.
With a roar, he buried himself in her channel. She watched, fascinated, as he thrust into her. For a minute, she felt detached from her body. The wanton, well-loved woman in the mirror was a stranger. The man pounding his cock into her looked like the man she’d spent the better part of her life fantasizing about.
“Mine. Mine. Mine.” His mantra reached her ears. He claimed her. He owned her, body and soul. Nothing desperate or uncertain remained. For the rest of their lives, they would be together. She would fight for it with her last dying breath.
“Yes,” she said as she jolted back into the present. Heat, molten and hard, made her muscles into a quivering mass. She had no control over any part of her body. Giving in, she put all of her trust in her husband.
Justin reached around and removed each nipple clamp, one right after the other, giving her no time to acclimate. Trish gasped as fire raced to her nipples. Justin only thrust faster. He gripped her hair tighter and pulled harder. She couldn’t hold off the orgasm. He’d said punishment was over. In a molten torrent, she came hard. Her pussy contracted, sucking him deeper and laying claim to him the way he claimed her. The waves of lava washing over her body went on and on. The keening cry issuing from the depths of her lungs followed the waves.
He thrust twice more and followed her over the precipice.
Trish lay trapped beneath his weight and made no effort to move him. She didn’t want any space separating her from the love she thought she’d lost. Tears gathered in her eyes, a reaction to the preciousness of their love and the terror she had carried for so long but refused to acknowledge. She hadn’t wanted to lose Justin. She hadn’t wanted to replace him. Terror and desperation had led her to beg Whitney to find her a Dom.
She wept for what she’d nearly lost. She wept for the love she had almost betrayed.
Justin lifted his weight from her, his soft cock slipping from the channel he called home. He moved her to lie fully on the bed and folded her in his arms. “I’ve got you, honey. Let it out. Don’t keep it inside.”
She choked at his words. “I already cried.”
“You always used to cry after having a big orgasm. I used to hate it because I didn’t understand, but now I can appreciate what it really means.”
Trish struggled to control her sniffles as her tears tapered off. “What does it really mean?”
He pressed kisses to her eyelids and to the wet places on her cheeks. “It means you love the hell out of me, and you feel both close to me and very vulnerable. It’s
a precious gift, Trish. I’ll never take it for granted again.”
Vulnerable. Yes, she used to feel safe enough with Justin to not mind crying in front of him. When had she begun to hide her emotions? She clung to him until the trembling subsided, and then she fell asleep in the safety and comfort of his embrace.
4
She woke from her nap warm and sated. The scent of sex filled the room, reminding Trish of this new side of Justin. For the first time in her life, she thought of herself as Trish, not Patricia—her mother had been relentless in insisting that everyone use her full name. From the day she had met Justin, he had shortened her name.
At first, she hadn’t liked it. However, when faced with the prospect of alienating the single sexiest man she’d ever met, she had meekly accepted the moniker without correcting him. Over time, she had grown used to it, and now it felt like a punishment when he called her Patricia.
Justin’s chest pillowed her head, and her legs were twined with his. She listened to his even breath and enjoyed the regular rise and fall of his chest. Before long, nature called. Slowly she raised her head.
“Where are you going?” Justin’s voice didn’t sound as sleepy as it should have.
She looked up to find his steady gaze clear and blue, no hint of clouds. “Bathroom. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.” He shifted, and she disentangled her legs from his. “I miss holding you like that. How about we shower together? That’s something we haven’t done in a while.”
“Yes, Justin.”
He sat up and grinned. “I like hearing you say that.”
Trish bowed her head proudly. She liked seeing his smile. Knowing she’d done something to bring him happiness made her feel almost giddy inside. She headed to the bathroom, and he joined her before too long.
The steady hiss of the shower spray filled the large bathroom. On the counter, Trish found her favorite brush among the bath products Justin had arranged on the counter. He’d always been thoughtful. Even though he hadn’t been home much since the kids had been born, he always remembered the little things. When their eldest daughter, Mikayla, expressed an interest in costume jewelry, he began bringing her eclectic pieces home from each trip. When the tin of chocolate in the freezer ran low, he filled it even though he didn’t care to eat it himself.
She had been so wrapped up in the problems in their marriage that she had let herself forget the things she’d loved about him in the first place. She needed to focus on appreciating what he did well and less on how he fell short. Justin seemed better at not holding her faults against her. She could learn from him.
Trish pulled out her ponytail and dragged the brush through the tangles. In the mirror, she watched Justin reach out to take the brush. “Let me.”
When they had first become intimate, he used to watch her brush her hair, but he’d never asked to do it. Surprised, she relinquished possession. After a few tentative strokes, he settled into a rhythm. He followed the glide of the brush through her hair, a soft caress that soothed her and made her feel cherished. When he finished, she melted back into his embrace.
Steam wafted from over the top of the shower’s glass doors. He dragged a hand over her ass. “The marks are gone, but it’s still radiating heat. How does it feel?”
She knew she would be sore tomorrow, but every protest of her muscles would be a reminder of what they’d shared. “It turns me on when you do that.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Good. I have plans for us in the shower.” The brush clanked against the marble countertop. With a hand on her hip, he guided her into the shower.
The inside looked a little different from what she expected. The stall shower could easily fit a few more people. Water issued from spouts on three walls. Along the back side, a low bench curved from the plastic surround. A bar hung from the ceiling, and vinyl restraints dangled from it. Justin lifted one of her arms and secured her wrist to the restraint. He repeated the action with her other arm. Warm water soothed her skin from three sides, spraying everywhere but directly into her face. Justin removed one showerhead and brought it closer to wet her hair. He washed it, massaging vanilla-scented shampoo into her scalp before rinsing it away.
While he conditioned it, he washed evidence of sex from her body, and he forced her to watch helplessly as he washed himself. She wanted to feel the smooth glide of his muscles under her washcloth. She wanted to coax his cock to life and kneel before him so she could show him how much she loved him.
Despite the warm water, her nipples hardened to tiny, pebbled peaks. Her sex swelled, and her mouth produced extra saliva. A whine escaped as her body begged to give him anything he wanted.
Chuckling, he rinsed conditioner from her hair. When he finished with that, he released her arms. Blood flowed through her extremities, tingling a bit in her wrists and fingers.
“Bend over, darling. Put your hands on the bench and show me that pretty little ass.”
The way he framed his request startled Trish, even though he had been saying things like that all day. For fifteen years, Justin had avoided saying anything overtly sexual. He’d complimented her appearance in general terms. He’d shown an appreciation for her legs, her breasts, and her ass through touch and looks, not words.
Trish decided she liked hearing him verbalize what he liked. Perhaps some might find it rude, but she wanted her husband to objectify her body. She already knew he liked and respected her as a person. Now she wanted more.
He reached between her legs and found her slick wetness. Not long before, he’d rinsed away her cream. Evidence of her desire wouldn’t be denied. It hadn’t taken her body long to replace the necessary juices.
“What a hungry little cunt you have, Trish. Would you like me to fuck it?”
Hearing such decadent words in her sweet Justin’s low tones made Trish’s pussy throb with need. Did she want him to fuck her? Hell, yes. Would he do it if she begged? She had no idea. He definitely liked playing the Dom, so he might get off by denying her pleasure. “If that’s what you want, Justin.”
“You want to give me what I want?” He plunged two fingers deep inside.
She arched her back and willed herself to not move further. “Yes, Justin. I want to give you whatever you want.”
He thrust into her pussy, pumping furiously, working her body expertly. She moaned, and he removed his fingers. She whimpered when he left the shower without telling her she could move.
Listening intently, she tried to figure out what he was doing. She shifted her weight and rolled her shoulders. Sliding and clunking sounds came from the other side of the bathroom. He returned before she could piece together evidence from the noises he made.
He pressed his cooled skin to her ass and thighs. A small sound of surprise escaped her lips, but she managed to not jump away. The temperature difference sent a shiver up her spine, but it disappeared quickly as the water heated him again.
The tip of his cock brushed the lips of her pussy. “Use one hand, Trish. Guide me inside you.”
Eagerly, she complied. With one hand, she held the weight of her upper body on the bench. With the other, she positioned him at her entrance and pushed back to take him inside.
He thrust, burying himself to the hilt, but then he stopped. The safety of close contact disappeared as he leaned back, peeling his abs and his hips away from her ass. He pulled her cheeks apart. He worked cool gel into the tight ring around her anus, and her pussy quivered around his dick.
“I’m going to fuck your ass, Trish.”
Oh, he didn’t have to warn her. She knew what he planned to do. Juices dripped from her pussy. She wished he would fuck her there a little too, but he remained still.
He massaged lubricant inside. His cock withdrew. In moments, his thick crown pushed at her sphincter. She breathed out and relaxed.
Justin’s cock was much thicker than the plug he’d taken out a few hours ago. The stretching didn’t hurt or burn as she’d expected, so th
e plugs had done their job. The sensation sent electric tingles straight to her pussy, and that empty channel was becoming a little jealous. It throbbed with wanting.
He pushed further, gently working his cock until she felt his thighs against hers. “Tell me how it feels, Trish.”
Why did he keep asking? Did he want her to strap one on and fuck him like this? She shook the snarky thought away and concentrated on what she felt. Anxiety. Yes, that explained why such an immature comment had been her first reaction.
Blood rushed through her body, bringing a sense of anticipation. A sharp slap on her ass brought her out of her head.
“When I ask a question, you will answer it, or you will be punished.” He followed up with another slap, but it didn’t distract her from the tight growl his voice had become. Something about the way he talked to her turned her on even more. He hadn’t said he expected an answer. He had said she would answer. He left her no choice but to follow his directive. Hot cream rushed from her pulsing pussy.
“Anxious.” She amended the first term of description that had popped into her head. She wasn’t afraid or nervous. “Like something is about to happen that I’m going to really like, but I don’t know exactly what I’m going to like about it.”
It was a fair statement since Justin had never fucked her ass before. She had no idea what to expect.
“I feel full inside, but it’s very different from when you’re in my pussy. The sensations are muted a bit.”
He withdrew almost all the way. She felt the ridge of his crown press outward against her muscle. Then he steadily slid back in, burying himself deep. She moved one hand forward to counter his momentum. While his move had given her more sensation, she still waited to feel the same kinds of pleasure she felt when he fucked her pussy, the kind that would push her toward orgasm.
He dug his fingers into her hips as he pumped into her a few more times. She realized she wouldn’t have an orgasm like this, and she whimpered at the unexpected punishment.
Justin paused. “Talk to me, Trish. Tell me what you’re feeling. I know I’m not hurting you.”
