Page 142 of Unwrapping Deviance

“Look at you being such a good little whore for your uncle,”he’d taunted.“You’ll fuck whatever I put in here, won’t you?”

I was so past shame and mortification that his ruthless heckling only made me wetter. He wasn’t wrong. My sex is a swollen patch of need he has hypersensitized so masterfully, I would crawl through glass just to feel one finger inside me.

“Turn over. Hands stay on the bars.”

The position has my wrists crossing over my head, but I twist over, slightly catching on the tattered ruins of my shredded top.

Most of it was sliced off by his knife. Some of it torn under his punishing hands. It’s safe to say the shirt is garbage after this.

The same hand presses into the back of my head, stuffs my face into my pillow as he takes me from behind. The iron bars cut into my damp palms, but I hang on. Taking the spirals of beautiful pain spooling in my belly with every assault. The feathers catch my raspy whines for more.

His movements are slow and measured. He’s so careful not to jostle the mattress, shake the bed, make any sound as he terrorizes me. He reaches around and brushes his fingers over my clit. I can feel him and me, and probably Daniel from earlier dripping in a steady patter from my lips, but I know he doesn’t care about that. His only mission is to make sure my clit never stops pulsing.

He pulls out just long enough to reach for one of the many dark shapes I can barely make out on the nightstand. I hear a pop before he returns.

Cold, slippery liquid drizzles down the crack of my ass. It rolls down my opening and follows the stream off my lips to the mattress.

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass, sweetheart?”

I shake my head, but the muscle in question clenches reflexively as I realize what he’s about to do.

“Me neither. Earlier, what you did, that was my first.”

I feel a bit of pride in that. The gesture had caught even me by surprise. I never would have with Daniel. His blow jobs are always dominating and controlling. He wants to be the one fucking. Christian had been so relaxed, so adorable. Hearing him biting back his noises had been such a thrill. It made me want to do more just to make him lose that control.

It had been amazing.

A light swat hit the side of my ass, pulling me back to the lube he’s rubbing into my back entrance.

“Stop that,” he tells me with a hint of amusement.

I must have been clenching around him without realizing, but fuck him. He’s been torturing me for a damn hour and I know it’s been an hour because he keeps whispering how long it’s been. So, if a little clenching is putting a wrench in his sadistic fun...

I squeeze the muscles hugging his veiny girth.

“You better stop,” he warns in a breathless growl.

I draw forward and slam back against him, rolling my hips on the downward plunge. His low, hissing curse elicits a grin from me that dies with the thrust of his thumb inside my ass.

“I told you to stop,” he pants, pulling out only to drive two fingers in.

Two!

My nerves scream even as my own cry of pain is lodged in my chest and caught in my pillow.

He snickers as he fucks both holes with slow, even drives. I can feel the rub of his fingers and dick through the thin membrane separating the two, can feel the stretch and pull of my unused channel accommodating him.

“You’re loving this,” he mocks. “You like the pain, don’t you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I meet his every thrust — so close. “No...”

I don’t miss his low chuckle or the way his free hand smooths over the globe of my right ass cheek. He caresses the flesh before tracing a slow circle.

“You need a matching mark on your other side.”

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