Page 64 of The Worst Pucking Deal

With each swipe of his finger, it becomes harder to think. Harder to focus on anything but the pleasure growing inside me.

I whine in protest when he stops and removes his finger. But as quickly as he stopped, he angles the fat tip of his cock against my drenched opening. “Say please.”

“I already did,” I huff, frustrated and so damn horny.

“Mhmm, I know. I love it when you beg. So I’m not fucking you until you tell me how much you want me inside you.”

“Please fuck me, Sawyer,” I purr. He shows his approval by sliding the tip inside. “Don’t stop until I feel my pussy stretching around your big cock. I want… fuck. I want—” Sawyer slams all the way inside me, effectively rendering me speechless.

I moan as my pussy does just what I said I wanted, and I feel it stretching to accommodate Sawyer’s huge dick. I pant through the burn, relishing in the exquisite pain that quickly morphs into pleasure.

“That’s it, wife. Open up for me so I can fuck you deeply,” Sawyer groans. “Fuck. Your cunt is so tight. Relax.”

I try to answer, to tell him I’m as relaxed as I can be, but the words are a garbled string of nonsensical noises. He moves his hand between us so he can touch my clit again. With each flick, I become more boneless. My moans grow louder and louder until he finally stops teasing me with his shallow strokes, and bottoms out inside me with every thrust.

“Sawyer!” I scream his name as my pleasure skyrockets, sending me hurtling over the edge and into an intense orgasm.

“Fuck! Bunny!” He punctuates each word with a thrust. “I love feeling you come on my dick.”

I’m too far gone to master the art of speaking, so I just look up at him with a goofy, satisfied grin on my lips. Christ, the orgasm he doles out should be illegal with the way it leaves me unable to control myself. I’m pretty sure that if he asked me about my past now, I’d spill every dirty secret without blinking.

Sawyer doesn’t pause while I recover. If anything, he fucks me harder. I can feel the brick wall dig into my back, but I don’t move or shy away from it. Knowing that it’s scratching my skin because of what we’re doing makes it delicious.

Wanting Sawyer to feel what I’m feeling, I run my hands down his shoulders to his back. Then I dig my nails in just as he thrusts deep inside me, touching that magical spot that has me crying out his name in sweet agony-filled pleasure.

“Fuck. Wife,” he groans. “Harder.” Doing as he says, I scratch him harder. “Fuuuuck!”

I can barely breathe with how full I am. My senses are working on total overload, making it hard to think. Good thing I don’t need my wits about me for something as basic as what we’re doing.

Sawyer moves his hand around my throat, and just like earlier tonight, he robs me of the ability to breathe. I know I should panic, yet I don’t. It makes me fly higher, makes my pleasure reach higher than ever before. As darkness settles around me, he groans my name and paints my insides with his cum.

“Come for me, bunny.”

Again, my body obeys him and I scream his name while fighting the need to pass out. As soon as he lets go of my neck, I take in air, greedily gulping it down in huge gasps. Despite my sore pussy and throat, I feel better than I think I ever have before. I feel free and… powerful.

Lucia

Four days have passed since the sponsor event, and it feels like a whirlwind of change. The day after, Monday, I officially moved in with Sawyer. Jo orchestrated the whole thing, ensuring that the press captured every moment of our supposed domestic bliss. It was surreal, to say the least.

We’ve only spent two days living together before Sawyer had to hit the road for an away game, leaving me alone in his apartment. Maybe I should have joined, but since not all the wives/partners/girlfriends did, I stayed back.

Right now, I’m kind of regretting it because the silence feels deafening, and the emptiness of the place echoes with the weight of our arrangement. It’s strange, being here without him, after all the chaos and intensity of the past few days.

Having the t-shirts he left me isn’t enough. Though I do love having his smell with me when I go to sleep, it’s such a hollow feeling when I wake up alone. Even the small, sweet handwritten notes I’ve found in random places like on the fridge, and on the coffee maker aren’t enough to fill the void he’s left behind.

Weirdly enough, my biggest comfort is the burn on my back from when he fucked me up against the wall. The next day I made him take a picture to show me the damage, and I’m still surprised by the surge of desire that followed after seeing my back all red. There were even parts where my skin had split open. But knowing it happened at Sawyer’s hands, doing what we did, made it hot instead of scary. And now… now I can’t stop fantasizing about how it would feel to do it on purpose.

As I sit alone in the apartment, I can’t help but feel a sense of unease creeping over me. It’s not just about living with Sawyer or the media attention surrounding us. It’s about the ticking clock, the ever-looming deadline hanging over my head. Every moment spent here feels like a countdown, a reminder that my time is running out.

I try to push aside the anxiety gnawing at me, focusing instead on the tasks at hand. But no matter how much I try to distract myself, the sense of urgency remains. I know I need to make the most of this opportunity to secure my freedom and escape the suffocating grip of my past.

But with each passing day, I can’t shake the feeling that time is slipping through my fingers like sand, and I’m running out of chances to make it right. I guess that’s not exactly true, something I need to come to terms with. I’ve managed what I thought would be the hardest thing; I’m married. The next part is taking Sawyer to the Vatican with me, standing in front of the Senate. Something I really don’t want to do. I… I’m protecting Sawyer, possibly at the expense of my freedom.

Fuck.

I pick up my phone, looking at the last two contacts I’ve used that aren’t work related. Gail and Remus. My fingers hover over the keys as I decide to text my cousin, something I should probably have done right after the interview where Fabian showed up. But fuck, I didn’t want to. I wanted to handle all of this on my own, a way of showing I don’t need him.

Me: Are you aware that Fabian has found me?

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