Page 67 of Vengeful Sins

“It’s just too much. I can’t handle it. Maybe just something in my ass.” There’s something wicked in her eyes when they meet mine, and the sight of it makes me ooze again, soaking the cotton shorts, painfully hard. “While you fuck me.”

“Oh, yeah?” That sounds good to me, but I’m not satisfied yet. She hasn’t come enough. So instead of giving her what shethinks she wants, I get off the bed, selecting a butt plug and lubing it before slowly inserting it into her quivering asshole.

“Oh, so full,” she moans as I work it in until nothing but the jeweled base shows. “That’s good. Oh, I like that.”

I like what it does to the rest of her, the way it makes her body move like molten lava, rolling like a wave, flushed, and so sensitive. All it takes is running my fingers over her ass cheeks and down the backs of her thighs to make her suck in a breath that ends in a moan.

This time, I withdraw the dildo and use another clean vibrator instead, teasing her lips, dragging it through her slick folds, using the flogger on her tits. “Oh, my god… don’t stop…” she begs, even as she flinches and gasps with every strike from the leather strips. Soon, she flushes red, with faint stripes standing out as I increase the intensity a little at a time, barely holding onto control for her sake. I can’t take it too far. I don’t want to hurt her.

Right now, she is completely lost, totally under my control. Her ragged breathing and the furious bucking of her hips tells me she’s getting closer, so I up the intensity of a vibrator and press it tight against her clit while flicking the leather over her heaving tits in a quick rhythm that makes her scream again. She’s straining, pulling on her wrist cuffs, her face almost purple by the time she cries out one more time and comes for me.

And while she does, I’m here, kissing her striped flesh, running my tongue over the skin I just marked. “I don’t know… if I can take… anymore…” she whimpers, lifting her head so I can tip a bottle of water against her lips. She takes a few gulps, then offers a weak smile. “Thank you.”

I feel like I should be the one thanking her. Trusting me like this, letting me live out this fantasy of having her tied up, just as much under my control but completely with me this time. I realize it’s more fun to watch her move, to watch her fight to befree, to witness lust wash over her and turn her into something else, something hot and passionate.

There is so much more I want to do. So many ways I want to experience her.

Right now, I’m happy to settle for pulling down my underwear and sinking deep into her quivering heat because I’ll die if I’m not inside her. “Yes…” she whispers, while I hold myself up on my knees, lifting her hips to angle her better. Our eyes meet, and she smiles a little before I pull back and slam home again. I can’t be gentle right now. I’ve waited too long.

“This is what your pussy wants?” I grunt, my fingers digging into her hips as I take her harder, faster, rocking the bed with the force of my strokes. “My cock? Is that what you need?”

“Yes!” she whimpers, staring up at me. “Fuck me! Fuck me, hard, Tucker, make me come!”

I’m going to, but more importantly, I get to hear her decide what she wants. I feel it in me, the way my heart is opening to her, and I’m not afraid. I don’t want to fight it anymore.

“Yeah, take my cock. Take it,” I grunt as the pressure builds in my balls. I don’t think I can hold on much longer now that she’s getting tighter, so tight, grunting with every breath, her teeth clenched.

“I’m going to come,” she warns, high-pitched, breathless. “Come with me…”

I don’t think I have a choice, because the tingling at the base of my spine is spreading through me, sending bolts of pleasure through my body before the insane pressure from my balls makes me paint her insides with my cum. My roar mixes with her ecstatic shrieks as I fill her with one spurt after another until it spills out between us, running down her crack, coating my balls. I’m completely spent, empty, happy. I’m actually happy.

And that happiness turns to the closest thing to joy I’ve ever known when I open my eyes and see her smiling at me. We gotthrough it together, just like we get through everything together. The way we always will. Because I am never letting her go again.

30

MAYA

“But really, I haven’t even felt like cutting in weeks. I mean, sometimes I think about it, but it’s not like there’s an urge anymore. I can’t, like, see myself doing it the way I used to. It almost feels like it was a different person who used to do that.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Dr. Pierce is kind, warm, patient. I think that’s what surprises me the most, even after a month of twice weekly appointments. I can tell her anything, literally. Every dark thing that ever happened, every hurt, every slight. And all she does is understand and accept.

She also provides a little insight. I know by now when she adjusts her glasses and taps her pen to her notepad, there’s something she wants to say. “Are there times when it’s a little more difficult to resist, though?”

“Sometimes,” I admit, and it’s not easy. I would much rather pretend everything is always simple, like all it took was a little therapy and a little understanding to cure me of everything that had its grip for so long.

And she knows that, her smile softening. “That’s good, the fact you can admit it. It’s a good sign.”

If only I felt so positive. “What, telling you how weak I still am?”

“We’ve discussed this before,” she reminds me. “Remember? There is nothing weak about any of this. You’re human. You were doing the best you could with what you were given. You protected yourself and helped yourself the only way you knew how, using the only tools you had at your disposal. Now, there are other tools, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be times when you fall back on those habits. Like a knee-jerk response. It doesn’t make you weak—if anything, the fact that you can admit it means you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

After giving me a minute to absorb this, she adds, “And by the way, I would be concerned if you swore up and down there has never been a time you considered cutting again. Such a deeply ingrained coping mechanism does not go away overnight. Have you ever known anyone starting into diet, for instance, who swears everything is easy, and they’re dropping weight like mad? What happens within a few weeks?”

“I see what you mean,” I muse. “Or, like, going to the gym every day.”

“Exactly. It might seem easy in the beginning, but there are always going to be challenges. It’s great, walking forward with confidence, but you need to have the techniques we’ve worked on in your back pocket to help you through the weak moments. Sudden surprises, losses, challenges. That’s when the impulse is going to come back stronger than ever.”

It’s actually interesting she would mention that, because there is a challenge coming up on the horizon. I haven’t wanted to pay too much attention to it or give it more weight than it deserves, but it’s always there, getting a little bigger every day. “Mom’s birthday is in a couple of weeks.” Saying the words out loud makes my throat go tight.

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