Things Made Right

by Tymber Dalton

  And there was no statute of limitations on murder. And it was premeditated murder.

  She would be arrested as an accessory after the fact.

  And she wasn’t a bit sorry the four monsters were dead. They’d raped others besides her. Would likely have raped again.

  Maybe even raised another generation of rapists.

  A quick chlorination of the gene pool.

  However they died, it wasn’t nearly slowly or painfully enough for Loren’s tastes. How many lives had they ruined? All because they were entitlement-minded rich assholes who thought they had a right to take whatever they wanted from whomever they wanted.

  She was glad Ross had killed them. If that made her a bad person, well, she was okay with that, too.

  Once she finally pulled herself together, she buckled her seat belt and left the parking lot, heading south.

  Heading home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Then…

  Loren knew her mother was dying to ask questions and raise objections. It was probably only her father’s influence keeping her mom in check. Neither of them looked very happy about this development. She knew they thought Ross would pull her out of school, marry her, maybe get her knocked up if he hadn’t already, and she’d never finish college.

  She couldn’t tell them they likely wouldn’t get grandchildren. Not if the doctors were right.

  Something that broke her heart but not something she wanted to think about today of all days.

  Ross was her rock, her anchor, her higher power.

  She didn’t want anyone or anything but him.

  Not a damn thing.

  Loren didn’t even want the church wedding. She suspected if she went through with it, it would placate her mother enough to keep the peace. If they’d done what Loren wanted to do—go to the county courthouse—her mother would never accept Ross or their marriage.

  It was bad enough Ross’ father had pretty much disowned him once Ross told him not only was he marrying Loren, but that they were moving to Florida so he could go to law school there. She didn’t want to totally be cut off from everyone if she could avoid it.

  It had shocked her when Ross admitted to her after proposing to her that not only did she not have to work while she went to school, but that the trust his grandfather had left to him paid all his costs, including living expenses and a stipend for things like auto expenses, clothes, and entertainment.

  Meaning, by extension, Loren’s living expenses, because his grandfather had included a stipulation that if Ross got married, it would be increased and include her expenses, too.

  Ross hadn’t needed to work a job, but he had because he wanted to, wanted to try to make it on his own as much as possible without just leaching off the trust fund.

  She loved and respected him even more for that.

  Whatever was left after Ross graduated from law school would be paid out to him as a lump sum. By Ross’ best calculations, there would still probably be close to three hundred thousand in the trust.

  At least Loren had talked her mother into letting her go plain for the wedding ceremony, a simple white cocktail dress, a small ceremony with only their closest family and friends in attendance, and then a small buffet in the church’s fellowship hall on a Friday evening.

  Ross’ father refused to attend and wouldn’t let his mother attend, either.

  Next week, once Ross had graduated and the semester was over, they’d pack and move south, to Florida. Ross had two months before starting law school there.

  She couldn’t wait, eager for a fresh start. She’d attend USF in Tampa, as long as they accepted her application, which Ross had helped her fill out and submit.

  And after, they’d talked about staying in Florida. There would be lots of jobs, lots of opportunities for them.

  A fresh start.

  A chance to get away from the awful memories lurking here in Pennsylvania, of the memory of how Ross smelled that night when he arrived at her apartment.

  Gasoline and booze.

  But most of all, his love for her.

  His righteous indignation.

  His desire to make things right.

  After the simple ceremony and reception, Ross drove them to a small bed and breakfast three hours away, just outside a state forest. Once they were checked in and Ross carried their luggage up to their room, he no sooner had the door shut and locked behind them than Loren was already kicking off her shoes and stripping.

  They’d anticipated that a loud spanking might raise unwanted attention, so he’d spanked her well the night before, every time she sat that afternoon a reminder of his love.

  His ownership.

  His protection.

  Including during the car ride there to the inn.

  He smiled as he watched her strip for him. “My good girl,” he whispered, crooking a finger at her.

  Already she was growing wet, something else fun he’d discovered. Yes, the spankings hurt. But yes, her body had quickly realized a spanking meant fun.

  Lots of fun.

  And there wasn’t anything her handsome sadist enjoyed more than plunging his fingers into her wet pussy while her freshly spanked ass glowed up at him.

  A couple of times she’d asked for the belt, once he’d tried it on her to make sure she’d accept it.

  He’d only used the paddle on her twice, both times as a test, and only five swats each, just to show her he meant what he said about punishments. He didn’t smack her with it nearly as hard as she knew he could. It had merely been a demonstration.

  She was determined not to earn the paddle if she could help it. Not for real.

  For funsies, however…

  Funishment was something she now eagerly looked forward to, even in just the few short weeks since they’d gotten engaged. He’d started teaching her the positions he wanted her to wait in, depending on his mood. Sometimes it was on her knees, legs spread wide for him, with her hands laced behind her head, elbows out and slightly back, making her breasts stand out. Sometimes it was on her knees, bent over, head touching the floor and arms stretched out in front of her.

  Sometimes it was on all fours, ass in the air and shoulders on the floor, legs spread wide.

  This one got her wet the fastest and usually ended up with his cock inside her in less than ten minutes.

  He had not as of yet ever denied her permission to go somewhere, alone or with friends.

  She did not feel stifled.

  She felt loved.

  The more control she gave him, the more control he took, the more loved she felt.

  She knew that was something that might make her mother’s skin crawl if Loren ever admitted it to her, but Loren was beyond caring.

  It was her life, and she would live it.

  And there were now sometimes hours, even once days, were she managed to go without thinking about that night.

  Another wonderful discovery, that her mind could slip into a blissfully erotic haze when Ross took control and spanked her. When she admitted that to him, he did some research and a few days later told her it was called subspace.

  She didn’t give a damn what it was called, she loved it when it happened.

  All the better, he loved taking her to that wonderful mental retreat.

  Once she was naked she crossed the room and was in his arms, sighing as he grabbed her hair and tipped her head back. Another rule, he wanted her to let her hair grow even longer, down past her shoulders so he could wrap it around his hands.

  Fine with her. Long hair was easier to take care of anyway.

  He nibbled on the base of her throat, teeth grazing her flesh. “Missus Ross Daniel Connelly,” he whispered. “Such a beautiful woman you are.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Already her clit was throbbing, anticipating what he’d do.

  He reached around her and lightly smacked her ass. “On the bed. On your back, spread-eagle.”

  She immediately complied, wondering what he was up to.

 
His purpose was soon exposed. He’d brought several pieces of rope with him, which he used to tie her limbs to the bed’s wooden four-poster frame. He’d also packed some puppy training pads, which he’d been amused to discover solved her squirting problem.

  Not that the squirting was a problem to him. He loved it when she did that. The laundry, however, was a problem. Puppy training pads were cheap, absorbent, and meant he’d had fun trying to recreate that first night together. It only seemed to happen when he used his hands on her, much to his apparent disappointment.

  “I love doing that to you,” he said. “It means I’ve taken you a level beyond pleasure, to where I totally own you at a cellular level.”

  Tonight he stripped and lay between her legs with a smile on his face. She was required to keep her pussy shaved for him, a small neatly trimmed landing strip allowed, but that was all.

  He swiped his tongue up her slit, from pussy to clit and back again, making her moan. “Tonight,” he said, “I’m not going to stop making you come.” He held something up, and she realized it was a dildo vibrator. “Not until I’m ready to stop making you come.” He twisted the base and it started humming. “You can beg and plead all you want, but tonight you will get no mercy from me.”

  Nervous tension swept through her. Before she’d taken her relationship with him to the next level, she would have laughed at anyone who referred to forced orgasm play as “torture.”

  Now, she knew better. Not that it was a bad kind of torture, but it was still torture.

  He slid the vibrator between her pussy lips, slowly fucking it in and out of her as she softly moaned.

  “After we get settled in Florida,” he said, “I’m going to start working with you on orgasm control. On you working on holding it back until I tell you to come. For now, I want to make you come as many times as I possibly can.”

  Lowering his mouth to her pussy, he started licking her clit. The first small explosion hit her almost immediately, between the fullness of the vibrator inside her and the exquisite pleasure of his mouth on her clit.

  “Good girl,” he whispered before returning his mouth to her clit.

  She didn’t know how long it lasted, her arms and legs pulling on the ropes securely holding her to the bed, her tears and pleas for no more falling on his deaf ears as he forced her through wave after wave of orgasms. He would only give her a few seconds to catch her breath before starting her on the rise again, the vibrator and his mouth a lethal tag-team of pleasure.

  It was only sometime later that she realized he also had a finger inside her ass. She wasn’t even sure when that had happened, only that at one break he was slowly fucking it in and out of her, making her moan with pleasure.

  “Yes, I was sneaky, baby,” he said, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Since I can’t spank you this weekend, we’re going to do something else. I told you, your body belongs to me. The only part of you I haven’t claimed yet is this sweet ass. By the end of the weekend, you’re going to have that vibrator stuffed in your pussy while I’m fucking your ass, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of feeling you coming all over my cock in the process.”

  She shivered, another explosion washing through her at the mental image that triggered in her.

  “Oooh, baby likes that idea. I’m going to fuck this sweet ass and empty my cum in it, claiming you totally. You want that, don’t you?”

  “Yes…Sir,” she managed.

  “Of course you do. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

  She shuddered again, another ripple of pleasure. “Yes, Sir.”

  It was all she wanted to be.

  At some point, he finally took pity on her. He got up, leaving the vibrator humming inside her while he went to wash his hands. It gave her a moment to catch her breath.

  Then he was back, untying her legs but leaving her wrists bound. He pushed her legs up and removed the vibrator, turning it off. Then he held it up to her lips.

  “Treat it like my cock, baby. New rule.”

  She opened wide, eagerly licking it clean. She always cleaned his cock now after he fucked her, something she loved doing. She loved giving him blowjobs, loved it when he let her suck his cum right from his balls.

  In a way, she felt a little badly for him that she could orgasm a bunch of times and he could only come a couple of times, if that often, in one evening while making love. Sometimes he only came once.

  It didn’t seem fair to her, even though he apparently wasn’t concerned about it.

  He set the vibrator aside and slid his cock into her pussy. “My sweet, beautiful wife,” he whispered, staring down at her. “I’m going to love doing all sorts of dark and dirty things to you during our life together. Tying you up and spanking you, fucking you until you come, and doing it all over again.”

  A moan escaped her. She was already enjoying it herself.

  “I’ve been pretty lenient on you with rules,” he said. “I wanted to give you time to settle in. I’m going to start setting more rules. Together, we’ll agree on them. I’ll give you a voice in it. But if you disobey me, I expect you to admit it. If you break a rule, you will wait for me to come home and have the paddle ready for me to give you your discipline. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I say that because they’ll be your rules as much as they are mine. All the more reason for you to obey them. You won’t have an excuse that they weren’t fair, because you’ll agree to them. Don’t disappoint me, sweetheart. I trust you to be a good girl for me, including admitting when you need punishment. All good girls need punishment from time to time. That won’t disappoint me. But not admitting when you need it will.”

  The thought of disappointing him pierced her in a painful way. She’d rather take a hard paddling from Ross than disappoint him. “Yes, Sir. I promise. I won’t disappoint you.”

  A wide, proud smile creased his handsome face. “I know you won’t, baby. I trust you.” He started fucking her harder, faster, one more orgasm sweeping through her as he hit all the right places inside of her.

  Yes, sometimes he hurt her. But only in the good ways. She was more than okay with it.

  Because he’d healed her.

  He’d made things right.

  He’d made her right.

  “That’s my good girl,” he grunted, hard, deep strokes driving her into the mattress until he finally exploded and fell still, his cock softening inside her.

  He nuzzled the valley between her breasts, licking, kissing. “Let me get you untied and—”

  “No, Sir,” she whispered. “Please?”

  He cocked his head, a playful smile filling his face. “No?”

  “Can I stay tied up a little longer? Please, Sir?”

  He grinned. “You risk me getting hard again.”

  “That’s okay. It’s a risk I’m happy to take.”

  “I get hard again while you’re tied up, you’re getting fucked again. And tomorrow, when we go hiking, I’m going to make you pick a switch while we’re out for me to stripe your ass with.”

  Her pussy fluttered around his cock.

  He noticed, his gaze narrowing. “You like that idea, don’t you?”

  Damn right she did. If he didn’t care about her, he wouldn’t pay her any attention. Or it’d just be about the sex and nothing more.

  She couldn’t explain why this had so quickly become such an important part of her life, of their relationship.

  To her, it meant he cared. That he paid her attention. That he was a man of his word.

  And she loved feeling a sore ass, seeing the marks—his marks—on her flesh.

  His ownership of her.

  Ownership she’d asked for. Begged for.

  Wanted.

  Needed.

  Craved.

  He leaned in and nibbled on the side of her neck, biting down and making her cry out as he growled against her flesh.

  Another thing she’d quickly discovered she enjoyed—being bitten.

  Whic
h was a damn good thing since Ross was a biter.

  “Guess what, baby?” he whispered in her ear. “We’re going to go hiking, and you’re going to pick a good switch before we even get into the woods. And I’m going to carry it with me while we hike. You’re going to see it all morning. Knowing that it’s going to be used on your sweet ass. And then, finally, only when I decide, I’m going to use it on your ass and stripe you with it before I put you on your hands and knees and fuck you right there under the big blue sky.”

  She gasped, a small flutter of pleasure sweeping through her as her swollen clit rubbed against his pubic bone.

  “And that switch will come home with us, too,” he said. “It’ll hang on our wall, next to our wedding portrait. And anyone who asks, we’ll tell them it’s just a pleasant reminder of our honeymoon.”

  Okay, that was an orgasm. Another small one, but still…

  He laughed. “Oh, baby. You are sooo screwed. By our first anniversary, you’re going to be a full-blown masochist begging for me to beat your ass before I fuck you.” He bit her again, on the other side of her neck. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Sir.”

  He rocked his hips against her. “Oooh, guess who’s hard again?”

  Relieved, she smiled up at him. “About time, Sir.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Loren didn’t have a lot to move, fortunately. Neither did Ross. Although they both had cars, Loren wasn’t sure hers could make the drive all the way down to Florida.

  Ross opted to rent a small moving truck and a car dolly and tow her car, while Loren drove his. He would drive the truck.

  After a series of teary good-byes with Emily and a few other friends, Loren climbed behind the wheel of Ross’ car and started following him on the drive south to their new home. He’d already rented them an apartment in Tampa. They’d have to buy some items that they didn’t have already, even though wedding presents had helped Loren fill out things like dishes, pots and pans, and other essentials that had come with the furnished apartment she and Emily had been renting.

  Mark had given up his apartment and moved in with his sister, partly to keep their parents happy and partly to save money.