Read Online Freeing Lana by Kristin Elyon - Free Book Online Page A

Lana’s body, her mouth. She moaned loudly as Sergio
applied the wood again and again, any semblance of displeasure lost to her
completely. When she felt the handle of the paddle placed into his left hand on
the small of her back, she could not hold back the whimper.
    “Yes,” she said,
knowing he would now know her desire, her appreciation. His finger slid
effortlessly inside her aching opening, the sopping sound it made only
heightening her desire, her need. A second finger found no further resistance
than the first, as he quickened the pace, plowing his fingers inside her again
and again. It was only when a third finger was added, that the pace slowed, her
pussy tightened around him hungrily.
    His left hand left her
back and found her hair, pulling her head backward towards him, holding her in
place as his hand plunged deeper into her. When his thumb extended and pressed
against the darker opening between her legs, she thought she might lose
consciousness. But he didn’t push it inside, merely applying pressure, teasing
her with the thought of being penetrated in both openings at once. He knew she
loved it; she had made it no secret, and while she would never ask him for it,
she did everything she could to let him know she wanted it every time. The
absolute lack of control, the purest form of submission in her eyes, she
readily made no complaints when her asshole was violated. She craved it as much
as anything else.
    But he rarely obliged
that particular kink she had in her chain, whether he just didn’t like it
himself, or perhaps his knowledge of her being ass-raped by a whiffle ball bat
during the ordeal with the other guy, she didn’t know. And when she searched her
own mind, she couldn’t completely rule out the bat as a catalyst for her
newfound desire to be in the completely vulnerable position of taking one in
the ass. But the teasing drove her bat-shit crazy, and Sergio knew it.
    She rocked back and
forth on the chair, meeting each thrust of his hand violently, forcing him
deeper than he might have intended, her moans becoming blissful cries of
desire, steadily growing in strength. A steady, guttural stream of inaudibility
flowed from her lips, no longer resembling words, but rather taking on more of
a sense of an animalistic snarl, as the line between hunter and prey blurred
and then disappeared altogether. He was no longer fingering her pussy; her
pussy was fucking his fingers, or more precisely, violently raping them. But at
that most crucial moment, when climax seemed inevitable, he stopped, slowly
withdrawing his fingers and releasing his grip on her hair. She wanted to
scream. Surely, he knew how close she was. Surely.
    “What would you like me
to do to you now?” he asked, quietly.
    Was he serious? This
had become a habit of late, the punishment she had longed for complete in his eyes;
he transitioned back to the weaker, though kinder and caring man who had been
there when she had needed a shoulder to cry on. Surely, he knew she no longer
needed that. No longer wanted that. It had served its
purpose, allowing her the time to heal emotionally, but it no longer held a
place for her. What did she want? She wanted him to never ask that fucking
question again. She wanted him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, to use
her for his pleasure, but she sure as fuck didn’t want him to ask her.
    Tell
him to go get the mask.
    Shut up! The mask? Christ’s sake, no. She couldn’t tell him about the
mask. She couldn’t tell him she wanted him to shove his cock so far down her
throat that she couldn’t breathe, both hands gripping the back of her head and
forcing it deeper until it swelled under the pressure and his hot, salty load
exploded down her throat. She could never tell him that, no matter how much she
wanted it.
    She couldn’t tell him
she wanted him to fuck her in the ass harder than anyone ever had, pulling his
dick out just in time to shoot his wad on her back so she could feel it running
down