Page 17 of Sleigh My Name
My heart beats in a frantic rhythm as I stare into his earnest face, his fingers still lodged inside me. The sheets are a tangled mess around us, reflecting the chaotic state of my emotions. A part of me feels remorse for putting him in this situation, but another part of me, a more brazen and courageous part, believes that myconfession will enable healthy communication. Isn’t that what relationships are about, after all?
“Yes, Liam. We’ve got time.”
He adds a third finger inside me, making my body hum with desire. “Say that again,” he demands.
“Say what?” I ask in confusion.
“That we’ve got time.”
“We’ve got time, Liam.”
With a stinging slap, his palm meets the bare flesh of my ass, the impact reverberating through me.
“Good girl.” His voice is rough and commanding. “Now, come again on my fingers. Give me that cum, slut. Show me I can fuck you morning and night, and you’ll always come for me.”
His fingers, deft and sure, dance within me in a silent incantation. My body yields to his ministrations, which slowly, inevitably unravel me.
“This is mine,” he mutters, grazing my back with his teeth. “You hear me? You’re mine. Every part of you is mine to use as I see fit. From this day forward, you’re going to be my pathetic slut, ready to cater to my every whim.”
His fingers move violently inside me while his other hand grips my hip. “Tell me. Tell me what you are.”
“Yours!” I scream, fisting my hands in the sheets. “I’m yours. I’m your pathetic slut. Your whore. Your hole. I’m nothing without your cock or your fingers. Nothing.”
He removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick. One full thrust. I scream at the invasion, trying to adjust to his length and girth.
“This,” he growls as his hand moves to cup my pussy, “is just for me.” He massages my clit while his thumb teases my anus. “Only I taste this. Only I get to be inside this whorish cunt or pathetic ass. You only scream my name. Who owns you, whore?”
“You,” I croak, my upper body collapsing on the bed. “You own me. It’s all yours.”
He clutches my hair, yanking me back until my back meets his chest. His palm finds my face, and I feel the soft burn of his slap. “You’re such a pretty toy, Charley. See how much you love being used by me?”
“More,” I pant as he gently slaps my face. I want it harder, faster, more violent. My body craves the storm. I want to revel in the incredible pain. “Hit me harder.”
The next slap echoes, a sharp crack that makes my cheek flare. The sting blossoms into a searing agony.
“Like that, bitch? Is this what you crave? Ruin, abuse, pain? Do you want to believe I don’t love you? Fine, Charley, I’ll give you exactly what you crave.”
He slaps me harder this time, adding to the pain that lingers on my cheek, making my face burn.
“Is this what you wanted? Is this what turns you on, you disgusting whore?”
“Yes,” I pant, loving the pain.
“Open your mouth.”
His aggression is such a turn-on. My body ignites with his brutality. I know I’ll have bruises in the morning as his fingers dig into my flesh. Bruises I’ll wear with honor.
“You look so right in my bed. I want you here forever,” he grunts as he slips three fingers into my mouth, pushing them to the back of my throat to activate my gag reflex. “That’s it, baby. Choke for me. Good whores know how to use their pathetic holes. You want to be a good little cum slut, don’t you?”
I try to say yes, but it comes out muffled.
He grunts in my ear as he thrusts into me. “Slap your cunt for me. Slap it hard. I want to see that clit swollen and red. I want your pussy burning.”
Oh. My. God. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
I follow his instructions, parting my knees further and slapping my pussy as he brings his arm around my neck and holds me firmly.
“You can do better than that, Charley. I want you to scream for me.”
