Page 17 of Regressive

Levi’s strikes had been strong and powerful, but Elon… he’d break me.

“No. This isn’t about punishment. It’s about giving you what you really want.” He yanks up my skirt, exposing my blistering behind. The cool air feels good on the raw skin and against the searing heat between my legs. His voice is low in my ear, “This pain… it’s just an excuse to take you where you want to go. I don’t like to see you hurt like this.” His finger gently runs over the welts. I flinch, but he holds me still. “I know what you need and how you need it.”

I have no time to think about what Elon is demanding of me, because he grabs my waist and spins me around, pushing my hips into the table. The legs scrape against the cement floor, but all I hear is the sound of his zipper lowering.

My belly bottoms out when I feel his erection slide between my legs, sending a shiver of relief down my spine. “Tell me this isn’t exactly what you came here for, Little Lamb, and I’ll stop.”

All arguments die on my tongue because the feel of him next to me, slippery and wet,isexactly what I want. It’s all I think about. It’s all I crave. Levi lit a fire in me and left it smoldering. Elon’s stoked it back to life and as his hand presses into the curve of my lower back, I beg, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t stop.” Then I add, “Make it hurt.”

His fingers twist in my hair, and I cry out when he yanks against my scalp. “Like this?”

“Yes.” The answer turns into a hiss when his hand brushes against my swollen, sore backside, but it just adds to the intensity of the moment. The sheer, uncontrollable want that surges through me.

“All of those other sessions have built up to this.” His cock rubs against me, the tip pushing and prodding at my folds. “Levi is too good, too righteous to take it where it needs to go. Whereyouneed it to go.” He grabs me by the neck and twists my mouth up to his. His lips are scorching, his tongue demanding. I pant into his mouth, and he says, “But I’m not. I’m just the kind of man to give you what you deserve.”

He drops my head and grips my hip, pushing into me with a hard thrust. I slam forward, caught by surprise by the feel of the force of him inside of me. He’s big, thick, and he pushes against my sides. He’s intrusive, invading, and although he gives me a second to catch my breath the second punch is just as forceful—if not more. He slams into me, fingers pinching into my hips. Every time he does it, pushing to the hilt, my backside sings from the contact—a constant reminder of my Lapses. With every thrust, I just keep adding them.

“Tell the truth,” he says, voice tight, “you want this. You want it dirty and hard and primal.”

“N-no.” I stutter, the word thrust out of me. “I want Enlightenment.”

My head snaps back with a sharp yank of my hair. “You want to be fucked. You want your pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping down your legs when it’s over.”

I fight back—trying to stay focused, even as he thrusts into me, nerves frayed. “I seek pain to fight the Indulgence of an easy path.”

The phrases come so easily. They’re rote. Ingrained in me since childhood.

“Bullshit,” he growls, jerking me up and pinching my nipples roughly. A shock of desire travels straight between my legs, and his hands follow the current, stopping at my core. “It’s okay to want it because you like it. You like it when I touch you here and fuck you at the same time.”

I swallow an affirmation. It’s wrong. Nothing in my life is about what I want. I’ve been taught that from the beginning. I didn’t grow up in the same world as Elon, where gluttony is rewarded with rolled up money and fast cars. Where women give sex freely without consequences and guilt.

“I want you to come for me, Little Lamb. Forme. Not for Anex. Not for The Way. Not for Rex.” He leans over me, bodies pressed together. He’s moving deliciously slow now, dragging his cock in and out. My legs wobble, and he holds me up. “I want you to do it for me because you like how it feels when I’m buried deep inside you. When you can’t tell where you begin, and I end.”

God, he feels so good. So sinfully good. A tremor rolls through me and I fight it. “It’s wrong.”

“Is it?” His breath is hot on the back of my neck, his body slick with sweat. I feel the cascade building, intensifying with every press of his fingertips, every stab of his cock. He’s right. I don’t know where I begin, and he ends. I don’t know anything other than it hurts so good. “Come for me,” he urges. “Just for me.”

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

He’s right, of course, my body has a will of its own and all it wants is release. His fingers rub circles against my clit, and I groan, overwhelmed by so much stimulation. The first twinges come quick, and the orgasm rushes over me, down my arms and legs, spreading from my core up my spine. My body grows numb, lost in the luxury of euphoria, and Elon picks up his pace, flattening me on the table. Every thrust sends another shockwave across my body. Part pain, part desire, all of it lost to the feeling of him thrusting so deep.

“That’s right,” he mutters, voice rough and caught between ragged breaths. “Clench around me. Hold on tight.” I don’t know how long he’ll go, and I feel a second wave of want tickling at the base of my spine. Abruptly, he comes to a halt, jerking into me with a groan as his cock swells thick. We stay like this for a long moment, his seed spilling into me, my muscles milking every last drop. Slowly, I float back down into my body, and he pulls out. I push up on my elbows and stand, feeling his cum drip down my inner thigh.

I panic, looking for something to clean up with, but he drops to his knees and pulls a handkerchief out of his back pocket. Before I can stop him, he gently wipes away the evidence of his transgressions.

He stands and looks at me, eyes less rageful than I’ve ever seen. I almost thank him, but for what? Cleaning me up? Nearly forcing himself on me? Pushing me to my limits?

The words falter on my tongue because I’m not entirely convinced that what just transpired between us wasn’t the biggest Lapse of my life, or if it was exactly the level of Enlightenment I’ve been seeking.

“From now on you either tell Levi what you really want from these sessions, or you come to me. Or if you’re that desperate,” he grins, zipping up his pants, “come to us both. Understand?”

Both? That idea shocks me to move, and despite my wrinkled dress and messy hair, I rush out the door. Thank God, no one is around as I limp back toward Serendee. I pretend I’m a normal woman, going back to my normal home, with my normal mate waiting for me. I pretend that Elon’s fluids aren’t wet between my legs, and Levi’s strap marks aren’t blistered on my backside and that I haven’t just willingly participated in something I don’t fully understand.

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