Page 77 of Break

I look over at Landon, a little surprised. He shrugs and goes back to watching where we’re joined.

I thrust into her a little more forcefully. She yelps and loses her footing, but catches herself. “Again.”

I give our Duchess exactly what she wants, how she wants it.

If only she could understand we’d be this way in every aspect of our lives together, if she’d only give us a fucking chance.

Our bodies slap together. Soon, I’m sweating too.

She comes two more times, and I love the sounds she makes and the way her cunt is dripping. It’s a fucking swollen mess. Her ass is red. Her body won’t stop shaking.

“More!” she cries out.

I fuck her like an animal until we’re both grunting, feral, mindless creatures on the balcony. Yanking the leash, I choke her just enough to make her come again.

I’ve never met a woman who sets fire to my blood the way she can.

“I fucking love you.” I growl, railing her harder. “Do. You. Hear. Me.” Each thrust punctuates my words. “I…”Slam. “Fucking.”Slam. “Love.”Slam. “You.”

Nicole screams out my name and squirts allover herself again.

Just like earlier with Landon, I’m in awe that she has any fluids left at this point.

I fuck her harder. Mercilessly. I spank, bite, pinch, and claw at her. I love that she doesn’t use her safe word. I love that she’s screaming my name.

My climax finally breaks loose and surges through me in a raging fire. I roar with my release like a man free-falling straight into hell.

I’ve never felt so free in my life.

When I finally pull out, Nicole collapses in a heap of cum, sweat, and tears.

Landon and I make quick work of uncuffing her, and she rips the blindfold off just as I scoop her into my arms and carry her back inside.

“We’ve got you,” I say, taking her into the bathroom.

She looks entirely too pale and flushed. Fuck, I think I overdid it.

Her ass is cherry red. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are too. Her bright and shiny eyes lock on me, and I feel every kind of way about it.

Setting her on her feet so I can get a towel for her backfires. My girl folds like a lawn chair. “Kerrington.”

Holding her against me to keep her upright, I let Landon set things up for us. Aftercare is paramount.

“We’ve got you,” I say again, trying to soothe her.

“Stop saying that,” she whines, half-heartedly smacking my biceps.

“But wedohave you, Nicole,” Landon argues.

She starts crying, and I have no idea why. Is she hurt? Is it a sub drop? Is it whoever that phone call was from?

Is it us?

Nicole sobs into my chest, making it impossible to tear away from her, even to start a bath or get a bottle of water, or take in a full breath.

I suddenly realize breathing is inconsequential when she’s in my arms like this.

Maybe I’m a little fucked up, but I like breaking things just to put them back together. I like being needed in a way that’s special. I like that she takes what I give her and begs for more, even if it hurts.

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