Page 84 of Snow Bound

It was familiar by now—the single moment of blessed relief, then the fiery pain screaming through her system as blood rushed into her abused nipples. Dimly she heard his laugh, vicious and mean, but the pain was a tidal wave, a primal scream of sensation that left no room for anything else.

When it faded away to a dull roar and she could think again, she realized he’d undone her restraints. Her hands were no longer secured to the chair, though she still wore the cuffs on her wrists. Through blurry eyes she watched him clip them together with a carabiner, then he was yanking her to her feet and dragging her forward.

Her feet must have been freed, because she stumbled and would’ve fallen if Grant hadn’t been there to hold her up. The ruined dress hung off her arms until with two flicks of the knife, he cut the straps. It floated to the ground and he lifted her arms over her head.

He slipped the cuffs over the hook that hung from the ceiling. She let her arms take most of her weight, legs braced apart to keep from collapsing while she struggled to breathe.

Hard fingers gripped her chin, and she blinked, trying to focus. Grant stood in front of her, his bright eyes assessing as they roamed over her face, her body. She saw the grim set to his mouth, the pinch of concern around his eyes.

He’s going to call it, she realized. He thought she was too far gone to continue, and he was going to call it.

“No.” She shook her head, tangled hair flying. She couldn’t let him end it. She wanted to finish—needed to finish. The orgasm was out there, waiting for her, and she’d gone through too much to get it to let it go now.

“Fuck me.”

His eyes widened slightly. “What?”

“Fuck me.” She licked her dry lips and decided when they were done she was going to drink a gallon of water. “Please. That’s what you want, what you need. I need it, too. Please, Grant. Please, fuck me.”

He hesitated, uncertain, so she put all the lust, all the love she felt for him in that moment, into her words.

“I need you. Wreck me, ruin me, fuck me until I can’t even breathe. Make me your little fuck doll,” she pleaded, “while he watches.”

She saw understanding dawn in his eyes, saw that he knew she wasn’t playing a character anymore. She was simply Anna, raw and needy and begging. Just how he wanted her. Just how she wanted to be, for him.

“Louder,” he commanded, and she nearly sobbed with relief.

“Make me your little fuck doll,” she said, the words ringing through the damp, dank little room, “while he watches.”

Something flared in his eyes, lust and pride and something else that she shied away from naming, then he was moving around behind her. He yanked her hips back, forcing her to stumble backward until her torso was nearly parallel to the ground, arms held up by the hook through her cuffs. She felt the scrape of his pants against her bare ass, the heat of his cock, and moaned.

“Yes. Please,” she gasped and raised her eyes to the monitors.

Michael was there, watching, waiting, and on the monitors above she could see her own image. Naked, ravaged, hanging from a hook like a piece of meat. She’d never been so turned on, never felt lust like this. She’d been reduced to her most basic desires, and it felt fucking glorious.

Her head went back on a sharp cry as he slid the plug from her body. It hurt, yes, but there was so much pleasure with it. The little pulses as her stretched asshole struggled to return to its closed state, the hard answering spasm of her cunt. Then the cool, slick trickle of lube gliding over the tender surface, dripping inside where it was quickly warmed by the heat of her body.

She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, the snap of latex as he donned it. She kept her eyes on the monitors, and she could see from the side angle that he’d poured more lube into his hand, and the wet slap and stroke of it over his sheathed cock reached her ears even as she watched.

“I’m going to fuck your ass, slut,” he ground out. He stepped closer and pressed his cock to that needy, tender opening. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” God, she wanted it. More than air, more than life. “Do it. Fuck my slutty ass.”

He pressed in, just enough to stretch the tight little ring of muscle. “Then watch. Watch me fuck you. Watch him watching. I want you to see it all. You hear me, fuck doll?”

“Yes.” Her breath was coming in sobs now. “I hear you.”

“What are you?” he demanded.

He slipped inside, just a little, and she shivered. He was bigger than the plug, thicker, and the delicious burn would’ve had her on her knees if it weren’t for the hook holding her up. “A slut.”

His hand cracked down on her ass. She jolted and he slipped in another inch. “Whose slut?”

“Your slut,” she panted and was rewarded with another slap.

“What else?”

“A fuck doll.” Her eyes wanted to roll back, but she kept them open, kept them on the monitors. Watching her own destruction.

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