Authors: Nina Lane
Her words dissolved into helplessness as Kruin pushed his prick farther into her, stretching her beyond what she thought was possible, stuffing her so fully that her entire body reacted to the intense pressure. Her sex clenched involuntarily around the solid, veined shaft as her head began to swim with sensory overload and the undeniable flicker of arousal that sprang to life within her.
“No,” she gasped, fighting the urge to succumb to the pleasure. “Oh, stop…he’ll split me in two!”
Part of her did indeed feel as if Kruin’s huge member would cleave her apart. She struggled against another wave of tears when he began to pump into her, each stroke causing a sting of friction that augmented the throbbing burn of her bottom cheeks. Kruin’s big, tanned hands dug into the fleshy cushions, eliciting a yelp of renewed pain from his captive as his fingers pressed hard against her punishing welts.
The dark stalk of his root thrust in and out of Lydia’s sleek hole like an automatic piston, varnished with her plentiful juices, every thrust causing her plump, crimson bottom to bounce from the impact. Little shrieks broke from Lydia’s arched throat, mingling with the smack of Kruin’s large testicles slapping repeatedly against her juicy fissure.
Lydia groaned with utter wantonness, overwhelmed by the pervertedly delicious mixture of pain and pleasure as her hips began to thrust backward to meet the force of Kruin’s increasingly rapid strokes. Her body sank into the myriad stimulations as if she were drowning, her nerve endings sparking with excitement from the brimming friction.
As astonished as she was by the way that the sensations twined so rapidly through her body, as if the beating had provoked some latent, twisted desires deep within her, Lydia remembered in the depths of her submersion that she had to prevent herself from climaxing. She closed her eyes, her teeth sinking hard into her lower lip as she fought the overwhelming urge to loosen the reins of her pleasure.
Kruin’s shaft thrust so deeply into her that she felt the jolt clear up to her belly, and then he pulled from her with a grunt. His hand grasped his bursting phallus, dripping with the evidence of Lydia’s stimulation, and with a low growl of pleasure, he shot creamy liquid over her quivering mounds.
Lydia could not prevent herself from crying out with frustration as she felt the warm, wet fluids dripping into her sore crevices, knowing he had taken his pleasure while denying her own.
A heavy silence descended over the room, then there was the sound of Kruin zipping his trousers. He took his belt from the table and smacked his hand hard against Lydia’s bruised, wet rump.
“Let that be a lesson, Lydia. Do not forget it.”
Lydia winced as he spanked her again, and then the slam of the door signaled his exit from the room. As the drenched eroticism of the entire event began to ebb, Lydia was swamped with a flood of humiliation.
Still bound and exposed to the waist, her bottom stained with welts and the thick ropes of Kruin’s semen, her skin slick with perspiration, she lowered her head to the table and tried to swallow the sobs that continued to rise in her chest.
“Well, my dear.” Preston’s voice was amused as he reached over to push her hair away from her face. “You’ve had a taste of Kruin’s punishment. And lucky you, you still have mine to look forward to.”
His fingers trailed over her damp cheeks to her chin, his fingers forcing her face toward him. She stared at him through glassy, stunned eyes, her shame sinking even deeper as she saw his cruel, mocking smile.
Then he leaned across the table to press his mouth hard against hers, pushing her lips apart, his tongue flickering out obscenely to stroke the cavern of her mouth in a movement edged with dark possession. He bit down hard on her lower lip, causing Lydia to gasp with sudden pain, and then he pulled away, his blue eyes hot like lava.
Without another word, Preston turned and strode from the room. Lydia’s body sagged with relief, for she had begun to think he would subject her to further outrages that very evening. She pressed her forehead against the table again, her entire body scorched, agonized, and throbbing with unfulfilled longing.
Gabriel came around the side of the table, his adept fingers unlashing her wrists quickly from the tight confines of his belt. Lydia nearly sobbed all over again as her muscles relaxed deliciously from their taut strain, as she was finally allowed to pull her dress back over her crudely spread vulva and bottom. She felt Gabriel’s broad hands settle around her waist as he helped her from the table.
Lydia stumbled as the blood rushed from her head and the world tilted crazily off balance. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she grasped his forearm to regain her equilibrium. Her labial lips pressed wetly together, surrounding her swollen bud with such delectable heat that her frustration augmented to infinite proportions. Her tender breasts pressed against her dress, each movement causing the fabric to brush her hard nipples.
“I’ll help you upstairs,” Gabriel said, his arm moving to slip around her waist.
Lydia pushed his hands from her with a sudden, sharp gesture, her eyes flashing with rekindled irritation.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
Gabriel’s mouth compressed with displeasure. “Lydia.”
“No! Stop it.”
Uncaring if he saw fit to add yet another punishment to her growing list, Lydia headed for the door. She went upstairs, her body weak and trembling, the thin cotton of her dress chafing her scorched bottom. She sank onto her bed with relief, burying her face in her pillow as blessed silence closed around her.
CHAPTER SIX
Gabriel stopped outside Lydia’s bedroom door. A dim light shone from beneath the door frame. He wondered briefly if she had been awake all night or if she had fallen asleep with the light on. The sky outside was just beginning to shift from black to gray, but the sun hadn’t yet begun its slow ascent over the horizon.
Twisting the knob slowly, Gabriel opened the door and looked into Lydia’s bedroom. She was lying on the bed, still clad in her cotton dress, her back to the door and her skirt hiked up over her hips as if she could not bear even the flimsy touch of cotton against her bruised flesh. Muffled sniffles filled the room, and her body shuddered with little hiccups.
Gabriel suspected the pain had eased enough so that she was not still sobbing from the physical effects of her punishment. Rather, it was arrested stimulation, not to mention deep shame and frustration over her degraded position, that provoked her current dismay.
He entered the room, closing the door with a click. Lydia’s body tensed visibly as she heard him, her sniffles catching in her throat. She fumbled to cover the full mounds that had provided them all with a deliciously dark, erotic display.
Gabriel murmured a mild reprimand as he gathered a fistful of her skirt in his hand and drew it back over her rounded hips. The brutal evidence of Kruin’s belt flamed against her pale cheeks, the raised welts contrasting sharply with the whiteness of her skin.
Gabriel skimmed his fingers over the backs of her voluptuous thighs, causing a tremble to ripple through Lydia’s body. He sat on the bed beside her and stroked his hand over the crescendo of her hip to her waist. She didn’t move, but her muscles tightened at his touch.
“Lydia.”
Her only response was another sniffle. Gabriel leaned against the headboard and slid his hand over her waist until he reached the curve of her breast beneath her cotton dress. His fingertips lingered against the soft swell, and his prick stirred inside his trousers.
“Look at me, Lydia.” His voice was not harsh, but underscored with an undeniable layer of authority.
She turned, her buttermilk cheeks still streaked with tears, her thick-lashed brown eyes watching him with a deep sense of apprehension.
Gabriel smoothed her tousled hair away from her forehead, his long fingers sliding through the dark, silken strands. His hand moved to the back of her neck and down the warm plane of her back, pressing against the ridge of her spine as he drew her closer to him.
Lydia stiffened as she feebly tried to resist the insistent urging of his grip, wincing as her bottom came into contact with the coverpane.
“No,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to—”
“Ah, Lydia. Yes, you do.”
Although Gabriel was far stronger than she was, he relaxed his grip slightly. Lydia sniffed and tried again to pull away from him, but appeared so drained of all energy that she finally collapsed against his chest with a small moan.
Her body was limp and hot, her breasts yielding pillows against his muscled chest. A feral scent rose from her—the salt-tinged odor of erotic emissions mingled with the sweaty heat of her skin and a frothy, peaches-and-cream smell that belonged to her alone.
With one arm wrapped around Lydia’s quivering body, Gabriel began to unfasten the buttons of her dress. She made a little mewl of protest, but only shifted a bit as his fingers adroitly worked the dainty pearls from the scooped neckline to the hem of the skirt. He parted the folds of the dress, revealing her snowy, burnished body.
Gabriel’s erection grew harder as he gazed at the soft crests of Lydia’s breasts and the plump apex of her thighs. He cupped her breasts in the palms of his hands, flicking his thumbs over her nipples as he recalled how luscious she had looked splayed out on the table with the fleshy orbs of her buttocks thrust toward Kruin in coerced offering.
He smoothed his hand over the gentle swell of Lydia’s belly to the satiny cleft of her vulva. Her thighs remained pressed together until a strong word from Gabriel caused her to reluctantly part them. He dipped his fingers into the heat between her legs, unsurprised to discover that her pleats were still damp and swollen with arousal.
Lydia stirred with a little gasp when his fingers began to squeeze and manipulate the secret folds. Her head turned away as if she could not bear to watch the erotic plucking of her feminine charms again. Her hair fell across her profile like a curtain as she buried her face in Gabriel’s chest.
Her breasts heaved when his thumb traced a circle around her swollen button, then he submerged his forefinger into her humid passage. Her wet heat fastened deliciously around his finger, and then her hips squirmed upward as if she wished to impale herself upon the digit. She pressed her face against him, her sniffles melting into tiny cries of pleasure.
Gabriel felt Lydia’s body tensing with the effort of attempting to retain control over her naturally sensual inclinations. He knew she had reached the breaking point of her self-control, that she had exhausted all of her strength in trying to endure both Kruin’s fierce punishment and his heartless use of her body.
He rubbed the foamy bud of her sex, splaying his fingers on either side of it as he stoked her inner fires.
“Oh, please…yes, please…” Her breathy words were lost against his chest.
Lydia’s fingers curled around his shirt, her panting so rapid that he could feel the heat of her breath through the material. She let out a pleading moan, her inner flesh clenching around his finger in a vise-like grip. Gabriel pressed his lips against the top of her head and worked his fingers harder.
“Come, Lydia,” he commanded in a low voice. “Now.”
She cried out with relief, her body quaking into violent shudders of rapture that caused her to clamp her legs around Gabriel’s hand so that she might milk every last sensation from her sex. Her hips writhed and squirmed with wanton delight. Warm cream flowed over Gabriel’s fingers, and his arm tightened around Lydia’s body as she crested the wave with a deep, lascivious moan.
“Oh, God…” She sagged against him, her voice filled with gratitude as she fought to regain her breath. She pressed her forehead against his chest again and whispered something so low in her throat that Gabriel didn’t catch the words.
He pressed his fingers underneath her chin, lifting her face to look at him. Her eyes were dark with satiation, but buried deep within the chocolate-brown depths was a lingering expression of shock and fear.
“What did you say?” Gabriel asked.
“I said…” Her full lips quivered. “I said thank you.”
Gabriel smiled slightly and stroked his hand through her hair. “You’re welcome.”
Lydia twisted, her hand moving to try and drape her dress back around her nudity. As she did so, her arm brushed against the hardness in his trousers. She started for an instant, but then paused and stared at the swollen bulge with a hint of lewdness.
Without looking at him, her cheeks reddening with a developing blush, she bent to slide down the zipper of his trousers. Her graceful fingers trembled a bit as she slipped them into the warm opening to fasten around his stiff flesh.
Her moist lips parted and then closed almost delicately around the knob, her tongue darting out to wash a trickle of liquid from the veined shaft.
Gabriel’s teeth came together as he watched Lydia’s lovely mouth descend upon him with a slow, luscious sweep of her head. Her tongue worked with delicious swirls over his flesh, her hand moving between his legs to cup and caress the firm testicles.
She shifted onto her knees in order to better dispense her erotic ministrations, causing her whipped bottom to jut upward in an exhibition of whose appeal Lydia was entirely unaware. The dawning sun began to splash through the window, inflaming the pattern of red welts on Lydia’s skin with such a pretty sheen of yellow that Gabriel could not resist stroking his palm over her buttocks.