Page 19 of Craving Consequences

“You don’t get to disobey me and expect a reward.”

I drag her off me. Just enough to dislodge my cock from her swollen entrance, leaving her gaping and empty. Her cry is involuntary, panicked and pathetic in the best way. A sound of pleading for mercy. For pleasure.

For me.

“No, please...”

“Will you behave?”

She nods frantically, hips locked in place now, muscles rigid with restraint. Her nails dig into my shoulders.

“Promise. Please.”

I kiss her. It’s hard and possessive. I claim her mouth the way I long to claim her body.

“Better,” I breathe into her lips. “Now, keep still.”

I slide back in. Slow and deliberate. I breach her tight ring with just the fat head of my cock and watch her eyes roll back in her skull. Her nails cut skin as she fights her body’s natural reflexes.

I grin to myself. “That’s it, baby. That’s mine.”

Her body shakes. A weak tremble I feel in every clench of her pussy. In every helpless breath she sucks in through her teeth.

But she doesn’t move. Not an inch. Her obedience is fragile. Beautiful. Pure, untainted submission.

“That’s my girl,” I praise softly into the plump flesh of her right breast. I suck lightly on the tip, teasing. Daring her to fail again. “Look how good you can be when you try.”

I keep my head buried in her. The agony of it destroying me but I refuse to falter. To sway. To let the ache winding tighter between us crumble me. My hand curves around the back of her neck and I draw her brow to mine. I kiss her softly.

“Ready to cum?”

“Yes,” she cries with sweet agony. “Please. Anything ... I’ll be good. I swear I...”

I shush her and she whimpers. Her lashes flutter. Her walls clench and leak. But she stays still, and I reward her by feeding her another inch.

Not all of me, but enough for her mouth to fall open with a soundless cry. It’s almost enough to make her move. I can feel her will breaking.

“Careful,” I warn darkly.

I hear the gulp of her swallow. Feel the tremble of her thighs on either side of me. She’s wrecked and I’ve barely started the torture.

“Do you want more, Everly?” I taunt, nudging her waist down.

“Yes. Please. Please, Van.”

I smirk and grip her ass, forcing her to feel every inch she hasn’t been given. The stretch of discipline.

“You’ve been so good,” I murmur along the line of her jaw. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Her hips twitch despite herself. Her body is begging even while her mouth can only make weak little noises. She’s on the verge, the knife’s edge, and I’m practically coming undone watching her.

I reach down and slip a hand between her tense thighs. I ease her lips apart and tease her swollen switch.

“Van...”

“Shh,” I breathe. “You’re doing so well.”

She nods blindly, eyes unfocused with need. They stay locked with mine as I let my fingers move through her soaked folds, dance over her clit in methodical flicks.

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