by Harper West
Her writhing was getting weaker, and I could tell she was nearing her limit.
The bench was supporting her weight, but her legs were shaking, and her head was hung low, strings of drool dripping from her open mouth to the floor below.
So I walked over and turned off the vibrator, listening to her sob with relief.
I pulled it out of its holster and set it aside to clean later. It, like the bench below, was soaking wet with her juices, and I laughed under my breath before reaching down to cup her pussy and rub it roughly.
Ash jumped and moaned, loud and distressed.
"Aw," I teased. "Is this pussy sore? Did I overwork you? I thought you could handle whatever I threw at you. I told you I was going to use your holes before the end of this. I hope you didn't forget."
She trembled, and I could only imagine the litany of things she wanted to call me or spew at me. But she just slumped in the ropes and let me touch her, and I laughed softly, amused and proud in a way.
"Good girl," I praised. "Very good."
My cock was rock hard in my pants and demanding attention. It had been a while since I'd seen something so hot, and I wanted to plunge my cock right into her wet, tired pussy and fuck her until we both lost it.
Since there was no reason not to, I decided to do just that.
I hissed slightly when I undid my pants, my cock practically jumping when I got it in my hand. It was so hard it nearly hurt. Drops of pre-come had already started to bead at the head.
It wouldn't take long before I was losing it, but I was going to make it last for as long as I could.
"You look so perfect like this," I said to her, stroking a hand down her back once more. "Tied up. Helpless. Mine. I can do whatever I want with you, and you'll have no choice but to take it. And fall apart."
I positioned myself behind her, putting my cock right at her entrance. Just to be a tease, I rubbed the head around her sensitive lips, watching her shiver at the sensation.
Then I pushed in. The tight, soaking wet heat of her was incredible, and I tipped my head back and groaned softly, savoring the way it felt as her walls wrapped around my sensitive flesh.
I knew she was worn out, but in the position she was in, there was nothing for her to do but take it. The bench held her up, and I worked my hips, burying myself deeper inside of her until I was balls deep.
"Fuck," I groaned. "Fuck, you feel so good. How do you always feel so fucking good?"
I didn't imagine she had an answer for that, and she couldn't give one even if she did, what with the gag in her mouth, so I just kept my hips moving, fucking her hard and fast.
Even if I'd wanted to hold back, I couldn't, wrapped up in how good it felt and how much I wanted her.
She was intoxicating in so many ways. She held herself apart from me and the things I liked, and then when I had her like this, at my mercy and begging for it, I couldn't help but take advantage.
I wanted to fuck her hard enough that she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it.
I wanted her to be in her classes, sitting there supposed to be focusing on whatever art things she was learning, but instead remembering how my cock had stretched her open and made her come all over herself again.
She was sensitive enough I was guessing that it wouldn't take long.
Already she was straining against the ropes, moaning and shaking, and I'd barely even gotten started.
I kept my hand at her back, and kept my hips rolling, impaling her again and again.
The drag of her velvety walls against my heated flesh was enough that I knew I wasn't going to last all that long either. She had that effect on me, and I still wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it.
Either way, it wasn't time for figuring things out. It was time to use the gift I'd been given.
I fucked her hard enough that the sound of skin slapping skin echoed around us, and I could feel it when she went tight around me, signaling she was about to come again.
"That's it," I praised her. "Come for me. Come again for me. You can't even control it anymore, can you? You're just coming all over yourself like a perfect little slut."
She nearly wailed when she fell apart, and I kept working her through it, stroking her back and thrusting into her while I felt my own pleasure starting to catch up to me.
My thrusts were erratic, and I hissed through my teeth when I felt my balls start to draw up, ready to spill into her.
I had a better idea than that.
I pulled out of her pussy, cock bobbing in the air, and walked around to her front.
With one hand, I lifted her head up, using her hair as a handle, and then with the other, I fed her my dick.
It was slick with her juices, and I knew the taste of herself mingled with my precome would be spilling over her tongue.
She could barely hold her own head up, but that was fine. I used her hair for that, and I fucked her mouth with my last bit of stamina, forcing my cock deeper and deeper, until finally, with a soft shout, I came down her throat in long bursts.
I held myself there for a moment, catching my breath, trying to stop my head from spinning.
It was a good orgasm, and I could feel the aftershocks tingling through me when I finally pulled out of her mouth, letting drool and come spill out.
I'd need to clean the carpet later, but at the moment all I was thinking about was relaxing.
Before I could, I needed to take care of Ash.
First I undid the gag, knowing her jaw was likely very sore after wearing it for so long. I held her head up with soft fingers and massaged her jaw gently, watching as she swallowed and sniffled, trying to come back to herself.
"Are you alright?" I asked, stroking her hair back once more.
She nodded. "Yeah. Just. Worn out."
Her voice was raspy, and I felt a thrum of pride for being the reason behind that. "I can imagine. Hold on."
Methodically, I went around, undoing the ropes and rubbing her wrists and ankles, checking to make sure her circulation was alright and there were no rope burns.
She'd have some marks from how she'd been pulling against the ropes, but those would fade quickly.
"Can you stand up?" I asked her once she was freed, and she made a face and shook her head.
"Knees don't work."
I laughed and went to help her, managing to get her up off the bench and into the living room easily enough.
Once there, I wrapped her in the blanket I kept for these purposes and then went to get her some water and something to snack on, watching to make sure she had both.
Once she was comfortable and hydrated, I sat in the armchair and watched her for a bit longer, taking in her tired posture and face.
She was still beautiful, though. There was just something about how she looked after something like what we'd just done. Before the doubt set in, of course.
I was sure in a while she'd be ashamed or upset about all of it, but for the moment she just seemed content and too tired to overthink it.
"Is Eve going to be a problem?" I asked her finally. We'd talked about it before, of course, but I needed to know. It was nice to have someone who actually enjoyed playing with me, whose arm I didn't have to twist into doing things when I wanted to do them, but I did have to be married to Ash for the next few months.
Keeping the peace with her mattered to me.
Whatever else we were to each other, I was coming to consider her a friend. There was a very real chance I wouldn't see or hear from her again once our contract was terminated, but for the time we had left, I wanted to be able to enjoy her company without worrying about her coming to hate me for dallying with someone else.
Even if what Eve and I had was strictly non-sexual, there was something inherently intimate about BDSM in general, so there was no way around it.
Ash didn't answer at first. She nibbled on the cookie I'd handed her and sipped the water, clearly thinking it over.
"No," she said finally.
"Really?"
I asked. "Because your performance today leads me to believe otherwise."
She had the good grace to look sheepish. "That was just... I don't know. Bad judgement."
"Did you hate it that much?"
She snorted. "I wish. No. It was... fine. A lot. More than I was expecting."
"I figured," I told her. "You never take the time to learn about the things I do to you until you're suffering through them. But you did well, honestly. You took it beautifully."
Her cheeks colored with a dusting of pink, and I smiled a little. "But you haven't answered my question."
She let out a messy breath. "It's fine. I was... ugh. Fuck it, fine. I was jealous. I've been jealous. It's not lost on me that you're handsome and rich and all that. People are going to want you. You can have whoever the fuck you want, whenever you want them. And then I'm just me."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm nobody compared to you. If you hadn't come into the coffee shop that day and heard me complaining about my shitty problems, you never would have looked twice at me. I'm normal and poor and not up to your social status or whatever."
I frowned, not entirely sure where she was going with that. "I don't agree with your assessment, but I don't understand what that has to do with the current issue."
"I didn't want to get left behind," she said, huffing. "You can have anyone, and you're stuck with me because of the contract. I don't want to just be someone you're dragging around until you can finally be free of me. That would suck."
"Ah, so you think I'm going to entertain so many women I won't need you anymore."
She rolled her eyes. "You don't need me now. Not as much as I need you."
"I don't know about that. You might need my... monetary contributions, but that's all the use you have for me."
"Those things are pretty important, you know. I was close to being on the streets before you came along. Or back living with my parents."
"Alright, fair," I allowed. "But that could be reduced to writing a check every month to take care of your rent and stuff. There doesn't have to be any interaction. Those were my stipulations. Because to be honest, even if people have been throwing themselves at me or whatever you think happens, it's been a while since I've had a long-term partner."
Ash was quiet for a moment, chewing on her lip a bit. "Is that what you want? Someone long term. I thought you just needed a wife so you could get the money."
"That is the only reason I want a wife, but there's nothing wrong with wanting to have someone I can rely on to be there for me when certain... needs hit. For all you don't like me, we're fairly compatible."
"Are we?" she asked.
I smiled at her. "You're not a chore to put up with most of the time."
"Oh, high praise, Mr. Abnerathy. Unfortunately, you are."
It was my turn to roll my eyes, but it was almost fond. “I’m going to take that as a compliment. So. Eve?”
“It’s fine, Killian. I’ll get used to it. Just... don’t forget about me, okay?”
“How could I? You’re my wife, after all. For the next few months.”
“Damn straight.”
It felt like something else had shifted between us, but this time for the better.
Chapter 17
Ash
After my outburst, things got better. Killian wanted Eve and me to be friends, but I didn’t know if I could see that happening, if I was honest. She was nice enough, but being chummy with my ‘husband’s’ side piece was a step too far.
And of course, if we got close, I’d have to do double duty making sure she didn’t find out about the arrangement between me and Killian. The last thing I wanted was for people to find out about that.
It was embarrassing and weird, and it was just better kept under wraps.
The drama between us all aside, life went on. I had to go to classes and work. I still had bills to pay and all. My apartment needed to be cleaned, laundry needed to be done, and groceries needed to be bought.
Killian joked about sending me a maid to take care of those things. At least, I thought it was a joke, but I had to draw the line somewhere.
Even when I had the money at the end of our arrangement, I wasn’t going to become some weird rich person who never lifted a finger for myself. That just wasn’t who I was. I wanted to do things for myself and take care of my own business.
The money would be invested, and I’d take care of my family and close friends, and other than that, I’d go on and keep living my life the way I’d been living it before Killian had come along and changed everything for the weird.
I came home one day with a load of groceries, dreading putting them away.
My phone rang just when I was getting the last of the groceries inside, and I kicked the door closed with my foot and set down the bags while pulling my phone from my pocket.
If it was Killian, I was going to be pissed. He could send a text like everyone else.
But it was my mom, and I made a face before answering it.
"Hi, Mom. Everything okay?" She didn't usually call randomly unless there was something serious going on or she really wanted to tell me something. I was hoping it was just a quick call because I wanted nothing more than to tear into the ice cream I'd bought and sit on the couch doing nothing for the rest of the night.
"Hi, honey," she said. "Everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you about something."
Speaking of ice cream, I fished it out of the bag at my feet and took it to the kitchen so it wouldn't melt all over the floor.
"What's up?" I asked.
"You're not seeing anyone, are you?"
"Mom, we went over this at Christmas, remember? I'm single, and that's fine." It was still just a white lie. Killian didn't count as seeing anyone. We weren't dating. We were married because of an arrangement, and by the end of the year, we wouldn't be anymore.
"I know it's fine, I just...I was online today, and I saw a picture of you. With a guy."
I frowned, shutting the freezer door. "Of me? Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure. I think I can identify my daughter. You're at the coffee shop even."
My heart dropped down to my shoes almost and I forgot about putting away the rest of the groceries, rushing over to the coffee table where my laptop was charging.
It took ten seconds too long for me to wake it up from sleep mode. "Where did you see this?"
"It was on one of those headline sites, you know," she said. "Where they talk about the things rich and famous people are doing in their spare time." She had the grace to sound a little embarrassed about frequenting a site like that, at least. "I was just scrolling through it while I was waiting for the laundry to dry."
It was just a matter of googling Killian's name, and then it was easy to find the picture she was talking about.
Luckily, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be. It really was pretty blurry, and anyone who didn't know me personally wouldn't really be able to tell it was me. It was definitely the two of us, standing outside of the coffee shop.
Killian had a hand on the small of my back, and I had an exasperated look on my face that was softened by the shitty picture quality.
I couldn't even remember exactly when it had been taken. Killian didn't come by the coffee shop all that often anymore, so it was probably an older picture just now surfacing.
The accompanying blurb was about 'local millionaire Killian Abernathy' grabbing a drink with an 'unnamed female friend'. Hard hitting journalism for sure. At least there was nothing damning there.
At least it wasn't a picture from the fetish ball or us leaving the club or anything. Something like this was easily explained away.
"Wow," I said, forcing my tone to be light and unbothered. "They'll put anything online and call it news these days, huh? Local rich guy has coffee with a friend. Amazing."
"So he's just a friend?" my mom asked, sounding a little disappointed. I supposed if her daughter was actually dating a millionaire that would be prett
y exciting, even if she and my dad didn't believe in taking other people's money.
"Yeah, Mom," I said. "I told you I wasn't seeing anyone. He's just someone who comes into work sometimes and we got to talking. Sometimes we have dinner together. That's it."
Her sigh was pure disappointment, and I rolled my eyes. I loved my parents, but sometimes they were way too involved in my life for my liking.
"That's okay," she said. "I'm sure you'll find someone eventually. Oh!" Before I could tell her once again that I was fine, she was jumping excitedly to a new topic. "That reminds me. Do you remember Delilah Pierce?"
I frowned. "No?"
"She's my friend from book club. Her husband and your father have poker nights sometimes."
"I've never met her, Mom."
"Well, that's fine. The point is their son just moved to your area."
I could already see where the conversation was going. "Mom," I said. "Come on."
"I'm not saying you two need to go out, I'm just saying it would be nice if you could help him. Show him around. He's new and he probably doesn't know anybody."
"Mom, it's not high school. He's a grown man, I'm sure."
She huffed at me. "Ashlyn, will you please just do me a favor? Just have coffee with him. You never have to see him again after that if you don't want to."
What I wanted was to slam my head into the table a few times, but I knew I couldn't say no to my mom. She'd keep asking, for one thing, and for another it wasn't that big a deal. I'd meet him for coffee, we could chat, it would be done. Then she couldn't say I'd never done anything for her.
"Okay, fine," I sighed. "Do you have his number?"
"It's right here, hold on."
We exchanged the information and she thanked me before hanging up the phone. I sighed, leaning back on my couch, suddenly exhausted.
The picture of Killian and me was still there on my screen, forcing me to look at it, and I wondered who else would see it. Did people in his social circle look at stuff like that? Would his mom see it and wonder who I was?
Killian had made it pretty clear that she had the money, resources, and time on her hands to find out things about me and make my life hell if she wanted to, so I was hoping she would continue to be in the dark about the woman her son had married for convenience.
