release
and wanting to feel his rough fingers fill her. Yet he did not
oblige her, clearly enjoying her struggles.
“What is it ye want, my love?” His hand
landed across her arse cheek again, the hot sear across her skin
sending a shiver of need through her. “Tell me what ye want, and
maybe I’ll oblige ye.”
As bold as she could be, she found it
difficult to tell him what she so desired, the words always
sticking in her throat like days-old bread. Another slap had her
sucking in a deep breath, his male scent mixing with that of the
sea, so that her head swam with the want of him. When missing him
most, she’d often go down to the shore late at night, to take in
the smells of the salty air and think of him as she satisfied
herself, though it only left her missing him all the more, her
ministrations a poor substitute.
“Tell me, my love. Tell me what ye want. Is
it this?” Another slap across her arse had her reeling with desire,
even as her tears ran down her cheeks, her entire face red and hot
with need and the delicious embarrassment of her predicament. She
breathed in his salty scent again, her cunt throbbing.
His finger ran down between her arse cheeks,
to the slippery wet heat between her legs, plunging in this time,
so that a moan escaped her lips. “Answer me, Molly. Is this what ye
want?” He fingered her, in and out, adding a second finger and then
a third, thrusting deep, while rubbing her swollen nub. She
teetered on the edge, needing just a little more of his touch, when
he withdrew his fingers, and smacked her bottom again, the blow
landing hard across her arse and sex this time, forcing her to bite
back a yelp.
Taking a ragged breath, she was now desperate
enough to plead with him, desperate to have him fill her.
“Please…”
Her entire body screamed for release, but she
knew he’d not give it to her until he thought she’d suffered
enough, her penance for disobeying him. By now, she was reeling
with want, her arse fidgeting in the air as it sought out his hand,
hoping he’d show her some mercy and either thrust his strong
fingers into her once more or continue with her punishment, knowing
it would only heighten her pleasure when he did finally take
her.
“Please? If ye want something, my sweet lass,
ye need but ask. What is it ye need, my love?” She could tell he
was smiling now, could hear it in his voice, and it made her heart
flutter.
She’d been his from the start and he knew her
like no other—knew what she needed, what she wanted. He knew how
much she could take, though he always pushed her just past her
limits so she came through it stronger and more whole—more aware of
who she truly was and what she truly needed and desired.
“Say it, sweet Molly. Tell me you want more.”
His hand sat idly on her rear, the heat of it against her reddened
cheek like a hot iron on her skin.
“More… please.” She forced herself to get the
words out, knowing he was fully capable of leaving her like this,
aching and desperate, for days if need be. She would rather beg and
plead than endure that hell.
He thrashed her bottom until it was hot and
swollen and she teetered on the edge of release, her tears running
freely down her cheeks. Then, with a quick and effortless move, he
had her sprawled on the bed on all fours, with his cock free of his
britches. One thrust into her throbbing wet sex had him buried to
the hilt, his hard shaft stretching her as his balls bounced off
her swollen clit. It took but a few deep strokes, his name torn
from her lips as she came and he joined her, his cock pumping its
hot seed into her, making her punishment and redemption
complete.
He tenderly gathered her to him and kissed
her tears away, leaving her content and happy, her heart and soul
finally complete now that she was in his arms once more. “Welcome
home, my love.”
Chapter Two
Molly drew Ronan a bath, knowing he’d want to
wash properly and have a soak. The tub was deep enough to float
David LaRochelle
Walter Wangerin Jr.
James Axler
Yann Martel
Ian Irvine
Cory Putman Oakes
Ted Krever
Marcus Johnson
T.A. Foster
Lee Goldberg