Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
And I want it.
Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
If it’s too much, I know what to say.
“Count for me,” he instructs before the back of the brush smacks against my already sore ass.
“One!” I call out.
He didn’t hit me hard, I know he didn’t, but damn do I feel it. I’m going to feel it all day, will feel it tomorrow, and I can’t fucking wait. I want the evidence of what we’ve done to stay with me. Every time I sit down, I want to be reminded of Colton and what he does to me…what he gives me.
Another smack.
“Two!” I say just as loudly.
Smack.
“Three!” The pain is intensifying now, in all the best ways. I don’t get it, why the pain is good, why I crave it, but I do, and I have for as long as I can remember.
Smack.
“Four!”
Smack.
“Five!”
He smooths his calloused hand over my ass cheeks, rubbing them gently. “I wish you could see how beautiful your submission is, see how open you become here, with me, under my control. It’s amazing what giving up control can do to you.”
“Yes,” I reply because it is and he’s right. I know it just as well as he does.
“What is your color, dreamer?”
“Green,” I say easily. I’m not done yet. I want more.
I whimper when he leans down, kisses one ass cheek, then the other, before standing straight again.
Smack.
“Six!”
“You take my pain so well.”
Smack.
“Seven!” I taste my tears now, salty and liberating.
Smack.
“Eight!” The word comes out rougher, harder to manage, but I’m not ready to stop.
“You good?” he asks, pausing, dancing his fingertips over my burning skin.
“Yes, Sir. I’m perfect.” And I am, so fucking perfect, I don’t want it to ever end.
“You are,” he replies before letting the brush crash into me again.
“Nine!” I grit my teeth, writhe against the bed, body on fire, cock painfully hard.
“One more. You can do it. Take one more for me, okay?”
“Yes, Sir. I want…want it. Please let me have one more.” I can’t see through my tears. Crying isn’t something I let myself do often, it’s not something I ever do outside of situations like this. I don’t want the tears then, don’t want the emotions that come with them, but in this safe space, the tears can flow freely. They come from the pain I crave, but it’s only the gateway, opening me up and letting me feel everything else I need to feel.
“You don’t even know what you do to me, James. I’m so fucking addicted to you.”
His touch is gone, and I hold my breath, waiting for the next slap. I cry out when it comes, the smack echoing through the room, making me burn in the pleasure it leaves behind.
“Ten!” My orgasm moves in swiftly, taking over, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, cum spurting beneath me all over the blanket. I break down then, turn into a heaping mess, crying, rolling into a ball, but Colton is there, climbing into the bed beside me, pulling me into his arms, running his fingers through my hair, his breath against my skin.
“Shh. I’m here. Your Sir has you. Let go. Cry for me. You’re so beautiful when you cry. Let it all out.” He kisses all over my face—lips, cheeks, forehead, chin, even the tip of my nose. He doesn’t seem to mind the tears, which makes them flow more, like I don’t want to stop giving him something to kiss away.
So I just…keep crying…keep being held by him…keep letting him take care of me, until everything goes black.
CHAPTER TWENTY
James
It’s not until I wake up that I realize I fell asleep. Colton’s still holding me, but I can tell by the feel of his body that he’s awake. I’m practically sealed to him, attached to him with octopus arms and legs, stuck to him with sweat, tears, and cum, which reminds me of what I did.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pushing onto my elbows, looking down at him. “For coming without permission.”
“It’s okay.” He kisses the tip of my nose, then my cheek and my lips. What’s with all the kissing everywhere, and why do I like it so much? “You were somewhere else, and I’m honored I got to be the one to bring you there. Though, do it again and you might be in trouble.” Colton winks, then rolls me to my back, and I wince at the feel of the blanket against my tender, bruised ass. The asshole smirks, clearly knowing what’s wrong, then grabs the bottle of Gatorade, opens it, and hands it over. “Drink some for me.”
I nod and take it, surprising myself by downing half the bottle. I pause, take another sip, then hand it to him. Colton closes the lid and sets it back on the nightstand.
“Unless I get a yellow or red from you, I’m going to fuck you now.”