Page 100 of The Retreat

When I get to my husband, I let him trail his eyes over me. Taking in the silk covering my skin and the hard-on trapped in my jock hidden underneath. When his gaze gets back to mine, I turn and sit in his lap, my back pressed against his chest and my head on his shoulder. I roll my hips to grind my ass over his dick. He’s not soft, but he’s not hard either. I can work with that. Reaching up, I hook my hand around the back of his neck and arch my back, moaning when the plug in my ass moves.

“Please, Owen.” My voice is breathy. “I need you.”

He growls but doesn’t move to stop me. His hands lay limply on the couch.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me like you hate me.” I roll my hips and nip at his ear. A shudder runs through him, and I smile inside, knowing I’m getting to him. I don’t want to have to convince him to want me, but I’m past the point of caring. I need him so badly it hurts, and desperation makes you do crazy things.

The shadows in my soul are starting to take over the light, making it fragile, and I’m terrified of what will happen when it’s snuffed out. Of who I will become. Bitter and angry like my parents? I don’t want to be like them.

“Please, husband.” The word hitches in my throat, and finally Owen reacts. With one hand on my hip, the other slides up my body to grasp my throat. I bare myself to him, telling him with my body that he can have anything he wants.

His cock grows under my ass, and I bite my lip. He’s so big. I want him. I need him to own me in the most primal way possible.

“You’re a spoiled brat,” he bites out against my ear.

“I’m sorry.” My heart lurches. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, but it’s worse coming from him.

“Don’t lie to me.” His fingers flex against my throat. “Do you need to be treated like a whore? Like you’re nothing more than a hole?”

Air catches in my lungs, and I almost sob. “Yes, please.”

The hand on my hip moves to my cock, and I lift my feet to his knees to give him better access to all of me.

“The way you beg…”

Owen runs his fingers down my taint to the plug and freezes. I think I’ve caught him off guard with it. He traces the edge of it, then pulls slightly. Not enough to pull it out, just to put pressure on my rim. I moan, long and loud when he pushes against it, then pulls again. It’s not a lot of movement, but it’s something, and I’ll gladly take anything he’ll give me.

“Are you a worthless cumdumpster, princess?” He continues to tease me. “Do you need me to fuck you, then plug you back up until I want to use you again?”

“Oh fuck.” My voice trembles with carnal need. My thighs clenching on instinct at the very idea of being used by him whenever the need arises. “Yes, use me.”

The hand on my throat grasps my chin to turn my face toward him.

“You belong to me.”

“Only you.”

Owen crashes his lips to mine in a hungry, aggressive kiss. It’s bruising and dominating, and I whimper into it. His possession sets me on fire.

He pulls the plug from me and tosses it aside, replacing it with his fingers and growls against my lips.

I ride his hand with no inhibition, loving having all of his attention.

Owen wraps an arm around my waist and stands. An undignified squeak leaves me at the sudden movement, but he strides to the kitchen counter and bends me over it. I’m not tall enough, so I lift onto my tiptoes and wait. The cold marble makes my nipples pebble, and a hiss of air leaves me, but the sound of a wooden spoon being picked up has me tensing.

“Wh—what are y—you doing?” Is he going to spank me? My ass and thighs tingle just thinking about it. Owen lifts the edge of my nightgown with the spoon, and I tremble. Fuck. If he spanks me in the mood he’s in, I won’t be able to sit for days.

“Hold your cheeks. I want to see what’s mine.”

With shaking hands, I reach behind me and pull my cheeks open. The cool air on my skin makes me shiver, and my cock pulse. I don’t know what he’ll do next, and that’s erotic as hell.

Owen drops down into a crouch and blows on my exposed hole. I close my eyes and try to get my heart rate to slow down, but it’s useless. He does this to me. Something about the way he fights me turns me into this blubbering, lust-filled mess.

The spoon hits my inner thigh with a resounding *thwack*, and I jump with a little squeak. It sounded a lot worse than it felt, but it scared me, nonetheless. Owen chuckles, and it does nothing to calm my nerves.

He smacks my other inner thigh with the spoon a little harder than the last one and stands. I hear the rustle of his clothes and feel the hot tip of his cock press against my hole. Oh fuck, this is going to burn.

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