Page 89 of Starborn Husbands
“Oh? What’s this I hear?”
Asshole. He just wants me to say it again. “I want to please you, Sir.”
“You please me very much,” he says.
The eager energy within me trips and trills under my skin. It wants to glow for him.
Something smooth and wooden rubs against my round ass cheek. I whimper, knowing what’s coming for me. He’s not going to show mercy. The first strike of the paddle lands with a sharp sting. I contract my ass cheeks vainly, unable to get much squeeze to mute the pain, struggling in a cascade of tears. Zhang mixes whacks with nice fingers in my ass, confusing my brain—is this pain, or is this pleasure? I can feel my ass cheeks swell, and my hips roil, still holding out the futile hope for friction. More slick pours from my pucker that’s eagerly awaiting its pounding.
I cry louder, and louder, each successive smack more painful than the last. My plumping cheeks jiggle and quiver in time with the paddle swings.
I’m a mess of tears, my voice nothing but a throaty rasp, the rest of me nothing but a hot bundle of need. Every inch of my skin is a center for arousal at this point. The wood clatters to the ground and his gorgeous hands are on me, touching me everywhere. They end up kneading into my ass cheeks, prying them apart. I feel his blunt cock head lining up, slipping against my wetness before it sinks home.
“Mmmh.” We moan together, feeling the same sense of relief at the same time. I need him in me, he needs to be in me.
He pulls back and his hips snap forward again, slapping against my tenderized cheeks. My cock hungers fruitlessly, unable to erect, but sure as hell trying. It’s trying so hard, you’d think the pinching pain would be enough to calm it down, but it’s not. Arousal becomes a mixture of high-pitched torment and fucking delight, and I can’t catch my breath.
I’m a raw nerve of pleasure-pain and Zhang’s fucking into me, stretching me to capacity, filling me full of his cock. The rope scratches my wrists from tugging and straining, but I don’t want to be anywhere but here. Zhang’s proved once again how well he can own my body, how he can reach into my psyche, and pull my dirtiest fantasies to the surface.
A long moan ripples my spine. It’s not my moan, it’s Zhang’s as he spills all those star seeds into me like he promised. My balls hang heavy beneath me, and my poor mournful cock will have to wait to get its release, but a sparkle of pride glows through me as bright as my star.
I took all that for him. For my husband.
He unshackles me, rubbing my wrists, allowing some of his healing vibration to enter my sphere.
“No,” I complain. “Want to keep those.”
I’m half dead, but I’ll be damned if I let him take the marks I’ve earned. I love his marks.
“Of course, that was foolish. Forgive me, beautiful star.” He presses a kiss to my rope-burned wrists.
“I’ll think about it,” I say in lofty tones, my eyes fluttering closed.
They pop open again. I’m in our room, and from the position of the sun, it’s sometime later. I’ve been cleaned up, but I’m as tender as a cut of filet. I squirm into the cool silk sheets and wiggle my toes. All of it’s nice on my sensitive skin.
“You’re awake.”
Zhang’s handsome with his red hair loose. The sleeves of his shirt are still rolled up to his biceps the way I like, and I’m gonna demand that it be a thing. He dives onto the bed without warning, wrapping me around him, nuzzling his face into my neck.
“Zhang!”
“I thought I broke you.” He laughs.
“Not a chance. Don’t you know who I am?”
He blinks as if remembering just that: who I am. His brows pinch together briefly, but then a brilliant smile takes over his face. Zhang’s glow hums on low. “I know who you are.”
“I’ll only admit this once so that you don’t worry, but that was fucking amazing. Please say we’re doing that again when I’m off orgasm restriction?”
“You act like it’s been years.”
“Feels that way, now promise me we will.”
“Depends on your behavior.”
“I will ruin you and everything you lo?—”
Plush lips shut me up before I can get myself into trouble.
