Page 212 of Sinning for Santa

Frowning, I move to the other side of the bench and lower to my haunches, brushing back her hair to see her teary eyes.

“Little mouse, say the word.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want this to stop.”

I frown at her admission.

“This here or the whole thing? Because you know we can take a break and move on to something else.”

“I want to finish my confession,” she whispers.

“I’ll put the whip away. I can use something else.”

“No,” she grabs my wrist as I go to stand, keeping me in place on my haunches. “I can take it. I need it. Please.”

I stare at her in disbelief. I know she can take it, but what I don’t understand is why she wants to.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Please finish. I need to finish.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, fisting my hand into her hair and angling her head to me even though she’s still in an awkward upside down position. “I fucking love you, Jax.”

“I love you too, Dev.” She smiles at me. “Please let’s finish this and then, I want all of your cum. I want you to make me forget my name.”

Sighing, I nod, and reluctantly stand.

There’s a reason shewants me to finish this, and since I know her so fucking well, I know I’ll find out what it is in her last confession, so I can’t end it prematurely.

Jaxcen - Part 3

The whip comes down hard on my arse again, and hot tears fill my eyes as I get punished for my envy. I cry out, letting myself feel the pain, because I need it.

We used to celebrate the sins differently in the beginning, but after some time of settling into life here, I still had so many unresolved issues relating to my upbringing, that I asked Devon to punish me for my sins instead on occasion, and we came up with a level system.

At first, he was against it, but I told him how much I needed to feel that pain, that it was a way for me to release it. Not to mention, Devon likes to punish, so in my eyes it was a win win.

But today, our wedding day, although so beautiful and wonderful getting to share it with our son and daughter, something was missing, and I just admitted to Devon that I was envious of him, because he had more than one family member sitting on his side of the aisle.

“Jaxcen,” he barks, clearly angry, and I know he’s trying to reel it in since we make a point not to bring our disagreements into this part of our life. “They may not have your blood, but my family is your family. You know that.”

“Yes, devil,” I whimper, trying to remind him we are in a scene.

Emotions are high right now for both of us, but instead of letting him say anything more about it, I continue.

“Pride.”

My voice is loud, not a yell but close to it, so I can finally admit what has bothered me so much about today.

“You asked me this morning, last night, last week, and last month, and my sister even asked me before the wedding today, if I was really alright with my parents not being here.”

Devon rubs his palm over my arse, right where I know he will hit, probably harder than before, but I need it. I just really need it.

“I said I was okay. I said they weren’t parents to me. I pretended that they didn’t matter, because my pride wouldn’t let me admit that I really just wanted them here, and I still want their acceptance, even after everything they have done to me.”

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