by Adira August
His eyes moved to her face and he saw she looked hypnotized by her own movements, by the reddening of his throbbing penis, the vein huge and pulsing. "They don't give you a safeword when they rape you," she said. He wasn't sure she knew she'd spoken aloud.
"Talli, please, please, Tal. I need to come, I need to so much."
She stopped and took some of the tension off the lace. Then she shifted and aimed and flicked. The tips of the tails stung his glans and he screamed.
It was as if he awakened her. "Rolly?" She dropped the flogger and threw herself on top of him, the silky slither of her pajama bottoms on his over-sensitized abused penis made him cry out, again. But she was lying on him. Her breasts pushed into his chest, her hands under his back, kissing his neck, murmuring to him.
"Rolly, be okay, please please be okay," she entreated as her tears fell on his skin and she slid down his body and untied the lace. She rubbed her cheek gently along the underside of his cock for a moment and then slid back up his body. Reaching, her breast pushing against his evening stubbled face, she unbuckled the restraints.
His arms relaxed, but he didn't move them down. "Rolly!" Her face pained and guilty, she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed out and down, bringing his arms to his sides. Massaging his shoulders, a little, her body moving with her efforts, she became aware of his erection.
Talia shoved her pants down and off and straddled him, scooting back over his cock. She took him gently in one hand and lowered herself until he met her entrance.
"Okay?" She asked him.
"Always," he answered. He felt himself slide into her, his savaged member, beaten and tormented, buried in the warm, soft, sweet tightness of her. Her knees tightened against his hips and she wriggled once to get him as deep as he would go.
"Tal! I'm ... I can't ..." Roland came inside his wife. Great spurts of cum accompanied by long waves of energy coursing along every nerve path in his body. It seemed to go on and on, the glorious emptying of himself into her.
When it was over, he simply collapsed. Spent. Drained. She lifted herself carefully from him and lay along his side, her arm across his stomach, her fingers tucked under his side.
"Forgive me, Rolly," she whispered. But he was already asleep.
Roland came awake slowly. Disoriented. He didn't understand why it was dark when it was supposed to be morning. He was on his side, his hands pulled close to him, his knees up. Fetal position. He moved slightly. Sharp pains shot through his joints, dull aches along his shoulders and thighs and - his balls were sore.
Something soft pressed against his back. Talia. A warm weight against him. Her breathing even against his neck. Her arm draped over his waist, her hand relaxed on his stomach.
His wife was in his bed. His soulmate, his heart, his love. His torturer. It all came back. He looked down. His hands were free. He was still wearing his shirt. She'd cut the sleeves off at mid-forearm while he slept, to get the fur mitts off of him.
She'd whipped his cock. Not, whipped, flogged. The thought of it … the last throw of the tails, the furious pain of them biting onto the head of his dick. He felt a twitch. The strength and heat of the falls against his shaft. Spreading, wrapping, sliding away and back again. His cock lengthened against his boxers.
"Rolly?" Her voice was soft. Tentative. "You're awake?"
He nodded, not moving. "You okay?" He asked.
She lifted up and stroked his side and arm. "Please, Rolly. Are you mad at me? Could you roll over?"
"I don't want to scare you," he said.
She pulled at his shoulder and he rolled onto his back with a groan. She lefted his arm and laid her head on his chest, draping his arm over her back, pulling his hand around to her waist.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't be. I'm not. Especially if it means I can touch you again."
"I hurt you."
He smiled and patted her just a little. "Not that much. And I don't care. But," he shifted and tried to keep his erection from her. "You didn't come. Which is fine, if it's … fine." Crap. "You know what I mean?"
She nodded with her head still resting on his chest. "That might take a while." She looked up at him from under her lashes in the dim light and smiled. "We'll have to work on it. Is your - I mean - " Her hand slid down his chest and over his stomach. She found him, hard and hot.
"I see," she said and slipped under the elastic to find him and wrap her fingers around him and squeeze gently. "So, you're okay, then?"
"I'm okay now," he said wanting to put his hand over hers, but afraid it might be too much. "A little surprised, I thought I'd be, I don't know, chafed at least."
"I put stuff on you from the basket," she said. "It has aloe." She held him, but made no move to arouse him further. "I kind of hate everybody, I think."
"You hate me for not being there?" He asked.
She sighed and snuggled back down onto his chest. "Yeah. I hate Hart for existing and Avia for not getting kidnapped instead and that's - God, what kind of horrible thing is that to think?"
"Can I touch you, Tal? I mean, like regular?"
"I think so. Try it."
He brought his other arm across his body and brushed her hair back from her forehead. "If you're horrible, so am I. I hate them for the same reasons. But, I also love Avia, you know?" He stroked her cheek gently and she pressed into him. "Like always. And Hart seems like a great guy. He didn't ask organized crime to stalk him. He didn't even know they were. But - logic doesn't help. Not, yet."
She grabbed his hand and brought it down to her lips and kissed the back of his hand.
"I have to get up. I have to pee," she said.
"I have to take a buttload of anti-inflammatories and stand under hot running water for … couple days should do it." She giggled. He let her go and she sat up.
"I like hot water," she said.
His throat tightened so he could hardly speak. "You want to shower with me?" He finally managed a whisper.
She nodded almost shyly, and smiled at him.
Tears fell. His tears.
Talia.
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