Page 49 of Razors & Ruin

He appears from beneath the frothy tulle. His face is flushed and shiny with my juice, and he grins like a circus strongman.

“It occurs to me, treacle, that I don’t have a ring for you.” Beneath my skirt, his pinkie finger grazes my arsehole, and I gasp. “But you have one for me.”

He can’t put that thing in my bum. Just…physical laws alone preclude the possibility, surely?

“You’re asking me whether you can fuck me in the arse?”

He looks up at me and cocks his head like a magpie, considering the question. “Actually, no, I’m not asking.”

The room spins crazily as he shifts me. Before I know what’s happening, I’m face down on the dusty floor, the flagstones cold and relentlessly hard beneath my bare chest. I huff air through my mouth, winded by the impact, tasting grit in my throat.

Sweeney is on top of me, his whole weight rendering me immobile. I mewl as he tears the dress away, revealing my bare flesh to his gaze, and he straddles me, slapping my buttocks as hard as he can with both hands.

My scream rings off the walls, and I feel him frantically unbuttoning his trousers, his cock long and hot as he slips into the valley between my cheeks.

“Let’s get that rosebud nice and wet,” he snarls. “It’ll hurt me more than you otherwise. But make no mistake, pet—it will be tough at first. You gonna be my good girl and let me rail your arse?”

I know what he wants.

“No!” I cry, and he unleashes an animal roar of triumph, slapping my ass firmly again as I try to buck him off.

“That’s my good little whore!” His hands are everywhere, his fingers sliding between my slick folds and pulling the wetness into my crack. “I love a fight. You’re hot as all fuck, Nellie. You know I’m a goner for you, right?”

I’m losing my mind. Sweeney’s thumb broaches the tight ring of muscle, and he shoves it inside, flexing his knuckle to work the rim loose. The sensation is obscenely perfect, a fullness I’ve never known, and I roll my hips, urging him deeper.

“It’s not enough, is it?” He extracts his thumb and grasps his cock, rubbing the head against my tiny hole. “Don’t worry. This is happening. But you give me what I want now, like the nasty slut you are, or I’ll make it hurt too much.”

“Oh fuck, Mr. T, the things you say.” I look over my shoulder at him. “You’re so vile.”

“You love it. Ready?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. His hands drop onto my shoulders as he thrusts, and I’m pinned, writhing like an eel as his thick cockhead stretches my tender arsehole wide open.

It burns like Hell, and as I draw in air to power a scream, he claps his hand over my mouth.

“Yes!” he crows, forging deeper. “You pretty bitch. Take it all the way, my love. I know you can.”

My eyes stream with tears, irritated by the dust on the ground. I sob into Sweeney’s palm, and he massages my face gently even as he bottoms out inside me, hissing through his teeth as the ring of muscle grips his cock at the base.

My pussy leaps and clenches jealously, my clit throbbing, and I roll my head from side to side, overwhelmed by searing pleasure and exquisite pain.

Sweeney delves his free hand into my hair, wrapping it around his palm. He tugs my head back until I’m looking at the ceiling, his hand still wrapping my mouth, and begins to fuck me in earnest, withdrawing from my twitching hole before plunging back in, right to the hilt, every time.

My insides feel like they’re scalding, turning to liquid silk as his pre-come adds to my wetness, easing the way.

But I fight. I squirm, trying to pull away because he wants it like that. Any minute now, he will take it up a gear and force me to acquiesce, and that’s when I’ll unravel like a Bedlam hysteric.

“You want to come, don’t you? So do I,” he says, his face close to mine as he pumps his hips, grinding me into the ground. He takes his hand from my mouth. “Tell your man what you need, treacle.”

“My pussy needs something,” I say. “Please.”

He withdraws from me so suddenly and completely that I almost howl with loss. My body feelsopen, like everything inside could drop out of my needy holes, and as he spins me into his lap, I collapse on his body, tearing at his shirt.

“Steady,” he says, catching my wrists. “Steady, Nellie. You’ll go through my fucking skin.”

He kisses my throat tenderly, and I go limp, folding into his arms. “Now, let me give you what you want.”

His cock nudges my sensitive arsehole, and it’s easier this time; as he slips inside me, his fingertips find my clit, and I melt.

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