Page 27 of Daddy's Mad Love

I felt faint from the blistering agony pulsing through me. A litany of pleas fell from my lips, incoherent even to me, between my sobs and pants for breath. I was splintering apart from the pain, but that didn’t stop him.

Thwap!

Another blow fell, then another, fast enough to take my breath away, the searing heat lancing through me. I writhed, sobbed, and finally slumped when the belt ceased to fall again. Tears rolled down my cheeks, soaking the mattress beneath, and I gasped for air now that I could breathe again.

“Good girl,” Giacomo murmured, rubbing his hand over the sensitive skin of my bottom. I moaned at his touch, which felt almost soothing but was still overwhelming against my hot flesh. “Now, stay right there.”

As if I could do anything else. I didn’t think I’d move ever again. I didn’t care what he did next as long as it didn’t hurt like this.

A few moments later, I was proven wrong as Giacomo got on the bed behind me, then something hard and unyielding prodded at the entrance to my bottom, between my heated cheeks.

“No!” I bucked, trying to squirm away from the pressure, but Giacomo pinned me to the pillows again. “Daddy, please!”

“Don’t move,” he said sharply. I shuddered, moaning as whatever it was pushed into me. I remembered what his finger felt like, the perversely intimate invasion, but this was different, felt different. “You said you would do anything I want, remember?”

I whimpered as the thing pushed deeper, stretching me open. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t comfortable, either. The shame that swamped me as he plundered my most private hole was far worse than the physical discomfort. I had made a rash promise, and he’d already threatened to do worse if I broke it.

Hanging my head, I closed my eyes and let him push the hard thing back and forth in my bottom. At least it didn’t hurt, though the fact it was beginning to feel disturbingly good didn’t give me much comfort. I let out a sigh of relief when it slid out of me, though I relaxed far too soon.

A new object pushed into me, thicker and cold, not yet heated by my body. It stretched me wide, delved deeper, and I cried out at the foreign sensation.

“By the end of tonight, little one, you are going to know who owns you.” He pushed the thing back and forth inside me, a depraved mockery of sex, yet my body responded similarly. Even the burn from the belting was beginning to recede, my senses becoming confused whether I was feeling pain or pleasure.

I did feel owned, as if he controlled my responses more than I did, as if like he could do anything he wanted to me and make me like it. A few more tears of shame rolled down my face before he pulled the thing from my bottom, leaving me empty and aching.

The bed shifted behind me, then something hot and thick pressed against my stretched opening. His… his cock. I hated the word, but it was the right one, for any other felt far too benign for what he was about to do.

Crying out, I felt my toes curl as the pressure on my tight hole increased. Hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he pushed forward, thrusting inside my forbidden channel. I made a sound like a wounded animal, half sob, half groan. He was so very large, stretching me more painfully, more deliciously than whatever he’d been using.

My empty core pulsed with envy as he drew back, then thrust in deeper, the slickly oiled length of his cock impaling me. I moaned, my head shaking back and forth in denial as he sank deeper, claiming me completely and leaving me utterly devastated by his wicked depravity. This wasn’t how a man took his wife. This was meant to punish but also pleasure, show me how little control I had, enforce his dominance over me… and it was working.

When he came to rest against my battered cheeks, I clenched around him in instinctive response as my hot flesh rubbed against his hard body. I was so full, I could barely moan, much less speak. Reaching around me, his hand slid between my body and the pillows, his fingers rubbing against my pleasure nub.

I bucked, crying out and shuddering as the combination of agony and ecstasy washed over me. He groaned, jerked inside of me, then withdrew, his fingers still rubbing over my clitoris before he slammed back home.

It hurt in a manner I could barely comprehend—a delicious hurt that made me feel so incredibly needy, the kind of hurt I wanted him to keep giving me.

I cried out as he rubbed my clit harder, the rough strokes of his cock in and out of my fundament adding to the glory rising in my core. The ecstasy was almost more intense when set against the pain still stinging my hot cheeks every time his body slapped against them.

The pleasure was all-encompassing from where he was buried to the explosions his fingers were causing, crackling along my nerves. I bucked and tightened beneath him, sobbing as the orgasmic torment drowned me in sensation.

Straightening, his fingers withdrew to curl around my hip so he could hold me in place as he pumped in and out with wild abandon. I cried out again, bucking and writhing with passion as he rode me hard, seeking his own pleasure but in doing so, adding to mine.

By the time he emptied himself into me, I was nearly insensible from the glut of sensations, limp and satiated beneath him. I could feel every pulse of his cock as he filled me with his seed.

With a sigh, he pulled me onto my side, his cock still lodged in my bottom, and wrapped himself around me. It was how we’d fallen asleep before, but now, he was in me, in a most vulgar manner, yet there was nothing I could do about it.

“Hailey. Little one.” He kissed my hair and the back of my head, and I felt my chest heave at the tenderness, so at odds with his sadistic punishment. “You are so perfect, my love.”

Rebellion stirred in my breast again.

“This isn’t love,” I whispered. “It’s madness.”

I felt him chuckle. He twitched inside me and pressed his lips to the nape of my neck.

“Then perhaps it is a mad love.” He bit the back of my neck, and I shuddered. His hands crept up my body, caressing my breasts and plumping them. I moaned but didn’t stop him, not even when he pinched my nipples hard enough to make me whimper. Already, I could feel him growing hard again, his hips shifting to thrust forward a bit, the seed he’d already spilled easing the passage of his thickening shaft. It hurt, and I liked it. I whimpered.

Yes, this was indeed madness, and there was no escape.

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