Page 51 of Flat Out
My mouth went dry, but I reacted instantly, crawling toward him through the mess and the shame soaking the floor, arms trembling as I moved on all fours. Breasts heavy and swaying, clothing ruined, every inch of me aching for him. I could feel my arousal trailing behind me. I was crawling through my own mess.On purpose.
And I’d do it again, as many times as he asked me to.
When I reached him, I returned to my position of kneeling at his feet, legs spread. I tilted my head back. He towered over me with his cock straining against his pants and smiled. A dark,feralsmile.
“You were made for this,” he murmured, almost awed. “Made for me. You're so fucking perfect like this."
"Please. Please let me taste you."
Callum cupped my chin. The touch was gentle in comparison to our filthy exchange. “Open your mouth.” I obeyed, and he pressed a thumb to my bottom lip. "Good. Now let's see how much shame this mouth can swallow."
He unzipped his pants and freed his cock. I gasped. He was hard and veiny, visibly throbbing, leaking, furious with want. His hand moved from my chin to grab the back of my head. Slid the first couple inches into me slowly at first, just to watch me fall apart around him, just enough for the taste to hit.
"For the record," he growled, sliding another inch in. I swirled my tongue around his length. "There's no hate here. Just love. I love you, Aurélie." Another inch. "I fucking love you, and I will keep telling you that every day for the rest of my life." Another inch, and I relaxed my throat to take more of him. Itried not to choke or gag when his piercing reached the back, but did anyway.
I choked, spit pooling at the corners of my mouth, but I didn’t pull away, didn’t ask for air. I wanted him to know I’d rather suffocate on his cock than be anywhere else.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Fucking cry on it, baby. Let it break you.”
I did, because I didn't care. I wanted my voice hoarse by the end of it so he'd know just how much he owned me.
Callum cradled my face, moving me up and down his shaft, and I gripped the backs of his thighs as I held on for dear life, deep-throating him the best I could. His thumbs brushed over my hollowed cheeks, wiping at the tears. He didn’t just want to fuck my mouth. He wanted to leave pieces of himself inside it.
Then he pulled out and yanked me back to my feet by my hair, the pain so fucking good and delicious. “Not yet,” he growled against my mouth. “I need to ruin you properly.”
He carried me to the bed, and I clung to him, desperate for his touch. I reached for his buttons, working them quickly when he set me down. I sat up on my knees and almost fell over when I saw them—the purple and yellow bruises scattered across his chest, his ribs. It was living proof of every nightmare I’d tried to shove down since the crash. I didn’t even realize I was crying again until one of my tears hit his skin.
“Auri,” he whispered, catching my wrist.
But I didn’t want to be coddled. I wanted to be punished. I wanted to be destroyed. I wanted him to rip every piece of guilt out of me and remind me what it felt like to be alive again.
I kissed him, hard and messy and urgent, clawing at the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for him to be closer, always closer. I needed him to know I couldn't survive without him.
He pushed me backwards on the bed. My back hit the mattress. I gasped, and then his mouth was at my ear in the next breath.
“I said I would do this when I saw you again.”
I didn’t even fight it, whateverthiswas, just let my arms fall above my head, boneless and responsive, as if my body had already given up. But really, I was offering myself to him like a prayer. I wanted to give myself over to him wholly and unapologetically.
His hand slid behind him, pulling out a pair of handcuffs—the metal I'd seen earlier. They gleamed in the low light. I moaned, my desire dampening the sheets beneath my hips.
He didn’t cuff me right away, but rolled me flat on my stomach with my arms still stretched overhead, leaving me exposed and aching. He grabbed my skirt, and without warning, he ripped the second piece to my matching suit set. The sound of it tearing echoed through the room like an engine misfire, but I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. I was too far gone and couldn't even speak.
I gasped when he pulled the remainder of the garment from under me, then writhed and flexed my hips into the mattress, pathetic and weeping and falling apart without even being touched the way I needed to be.
"So perfect," he whispered, palm sliding up my back, fingertips tracing the freckles on my shoulders. He'd always loved those, and had once told me that he could map a constellation out of them. "I missed you."
I was about to return the sentiment when his weight shifted as he climbed off the bed. Then a loudcrackfollowed by a white heat that bloomed across my ass. I screamed, but not from pain, from relief. From the realization that I had earned this punishment, and I was safe and loved and?—
Another slap, harder this time. Then another, lower, just shy of my pussy. He bent low, biting down on my shoulder where he'd just traced. "You're dripping all over my fucking belt." Another strike. "You're soaked like this because you asked for it. Even now, you'restillin control of me, love."
I ground harder into the sheets and clutched the bedding like a goddamn lifeline.
"I wish you could see yourself right now. Fucking Christ, you're a vision. Face down, ass red underneath these filthy panties, still grinding like you're in heat."
One more strike, and I gasped, thrashed, begged incoherently formore. I was so wet, it felt like I'd never been touched in my life. He gave me another, and my vision blackened at the edges as I came harder than I ever had in my life. I screamed his name, cursed at him, writhed under him as my entire body shuddered violently from the orgasm. I heard the belt hit the floor behind him, and I hated how badly I wanted to feel it again.
“Look at this mess,” he rasped, dragging his fingers up the insides of my thighs, slick gathering on his knuckles. “You fucking gushed again for me." Then he leaned down, pressing reverent kisses to my neck. “Couldn’t even take a spanking without squirting all over our fucking bed. You’re a dream, love. My perfect mess.”
