Word Count: 45k Novella
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Sub Genre: MC, Biker Fiction

Content Warnings: 

Explicit Sexual Content

Bullying

Depression

Foul Inappropriate Language

Violence

Kidnapping

Violence Against Women

Stalking

Murder

Pregnancy Loss (not on page)

Sexual Content

Status: August 19, 2023

“They say you only fall in love once. They say a bunch of dumb shit.”

It’s been hours of punishment. Me paying for my smart mouth and defiant spirit. And my body’s wrung the fuck out. Don’t know how much more I can take because this man is unrelenting. I can’t even be upset because he’s warned me more than once that he’s not one to be spoken to any kind of way. The problem is that I’m not the kind to bow down or out. Did I push him on purpose? Defy him with a smile and a sway in my hips? Hell, yes. Was it a good idea? As I lay, here tied to this bed. I can say with a resounding answer, hell no. I’ve seen the light and learned my lesson. I’ll for damn sure watch my P’s and Q’s from here on out. Because my pussy is begging for a reprieve one I don’t think it’ll get anytime soon.

At first, I thought endless orgasms. Hell yes. What woman wouldn’t want her pussy wrecked with more orgasms than she could count? Me, I’m that woman. I’m the bitch that wasn’t ready. Because endless orgasms would have been better than this.

No one warned me that the Louisiana heat was a different kind of heat. And they sure as hell didn’t warn me that Louisiana men were different kinds of men. But at this moment, do I care about any of that? Nope, not even a little. Even with every window in the room open, even with the bed soaked. Even with every alarm bell in my head going off after setting eyes on the man I call mine. I don’t care because it isn’t the heat that has my body dripping wet. It isn’t another man that makes me see a future I so desperately want. 

It’s all him. 

Even if he’s torturing me in the best way, my body is exhausted, and I feel like I want to get away. There is nowhere else I want to be. This is the best kind of exhaustion. He is the only man I would ever want or need. So I will take his punishment. Because maybe I deserve it.

“Shit. Right there, don’t stop.” I moan,  can’t decide whether I want him closer or further away. 

He chuckles into my pussy, pushing my knees further apart, pulling me back toward him as my body tries to escape the pleasure he’s giving me. The man has a way with words, if you know what I mean.

Another moan rips through me, and my body shudders as he licks, sucks, and devours my pussy. When one of his fingers enters me, I can’t help but let out a scream that has him chuckling. He doesn’t allow my swollen pussy to adjust. The sounds of my soaked pussy accepting his first and then second finger ring loud. The pace at which he fucks me with his fingers is unrelenting. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I let out another scream pleading with him, apologizing, begging him to let me cum. But he hears none of it as a third finger enters me. 

He warned me about my attitude. But I didn’t believe a damn thing he said. Most men are all talk. They claim to be something that can never live up to. They talk a big game bolster about tearing the pussy up and can barely pull one orgasm out of you. They whisper sweet nothings and promise that they can make you cum harder than you ever had in your life. And it always ends in disappointment, and an appointment with a battery-operated friend after all is said and done. But not with him, never with him.

“Oh shit, wait… wait…no. I can’t… I ca…. aww fuck,”

“You can, and you fucking will.” He growls into my pussy, pulling my clit into his mouth, sucking, and I damn near catapult off the bed. 

“Oh… shit…” My juices flow out of me like a waterfall, and I can feel it pool underneath me. His fingers continue to piston in and out of me as he bites, sucks, and laps at my pussy. And I try everything to escape him; it’s too intense. I talked a lot of shit, but this man is crazy if he thinks I can keep going like this. My pussy is so damn sensitive, and the need to cum makes me fucking feral.

His mouth leaves my pussy as his eyes meet my dazed ones. “Don’t you dare fucking try to run from me, little girl. And if you cum. You will not like the consequences.” The gravel in his voice sends a shudder through me. But he wasn’t done.

“By the end of the night. I want to be drowning in your pussy juices,” he growls.

Even through my haze, I can hear the order loud and clear. He isn’t playing with my ass. This motherfucker is trying to kill me. Death by orgasm denial, what a fucked up way to go. 

Something crosses his face as he stares up at me. His lips and chin are soaked with my juices, and for a few moments, he is still as he watches me. His fingers remain inside my needy pussy, as it spasms around them, trying to suck them in. Both my eyes and my pussy are begging him to finish what he started and let me cum. He doesn’t. His smile tells me he isn’t done with me yet, not by a long shot. His finger curls inside me and slowly pumps hitting me in the spot that will undoubtedly make me cum. When I feel an orgasm building, I get giddy for the sweet relief I will feel. But that doesn’t last long.

With his eyes on me, he smirks, knowing what he’s doing and what he is causing, pulling his finger from my pussy. A whine leaves my lips, but with a stern look from him, my mouth, which was poised to beg him to let me cum. And I let my eyes do all the begging. I need to fucking cum. 

In the position he has me, I’m spread wide and can’t get enough leverage to escape him. My hands remained tied with the silk binds to the bed. I am utterly and completely at his mercy. I’m seeing damn stars, and he isn’t even near my pussy anymore. His grip on my thighs lets me know I have no choice but to accept my fate. I can’t move or get away from him. I’m a prisoner, and my pussy is paying the price. 

He shifts, adjusting his large frame so that he is sitting on his hunches between my legs. His cock bounces between us, and I lick my lips at the sight of him. Even through my lust-filled haze, I can appreciate his body for what it is. Perfection. And as someone whose body is her temple, I know perfection. I live perfection. I strive for perfection. My life revolves around being in peak physical condition. And seeing him, feeling him, I couldn’t ask for a better equal. Someone that can handle me in all ways. Someone that isn’t afraid to take me in ways I need and want.

His smirk lets me know the games are just beginning. He rubs his engorged cock over my swollen and sensitive pussy. His eyes watch as his dick becomes coated with my wetness. And then he stops, poising himself at my entrance, only allowing his tip to enter me. He rocks ever so gently. And because I’m already so damn sensitive, the motions nearly have me cumming, and I’m not sure if I am ready for the consequences if I do. 

“Oh, no. no. No. No more. I can’t. I can’t… it’s too much,” I squirm, push, and try to pull my legs from his bruising grip as he holds my calves wide so that he can watch his dick as he toys with me. The more I try to escape him, the more he tortures my pussy until I’m sobbing and writhing underneath him. Begging and pleading with him for a reprieve. My attempts to escape him are futile. He isn’t having it. 

And then he shifts. The relief I thought I would feel once he is fully seated is short-lived as he pounds into me. His pace is unrelenting. The grip on my calves travels to my ankles as he pushes them above my head and leans into me, pushing my legs into the bed. His hands rest on either side of my head. Not for the first time since being with him. I thank my lucky stars that Sissy was adamant that I started doing yoga. Because he loves pushing my body to its limit and bending me like a fucking pretzel. 

Tilting his head, he watches my face as his rhythm remains leisurely. I try to keep control now that I have the tiniest of reprieve. But he must see something because the control he has slipped, and he slams so hard that my body jolts, and I am propelled damn near to the top of the bed. 

“Shit.”

When he feels me about to cum, he slows his pace, a-fucking-gain. Leaving my orgasm slightly out of reach, a-fucking-gain. I want to fucking cry, scream and yell at him to fucking let me cum. To tell him I’m sorry for being a brat. To beg him to forgive me. Tell him I love him and will never do that shit again. And then the tears come. I don’t know what it is or why, but they come. As he slowly pumps in and out of me, I full-on sob. It’s gut-wrenching, and I don’t understand it. Something in his eyes at the sight of my unchecked tears and pleading look tells me he understands, and this is what he wanted all along. He pulls himself up to his knees and stares down at me, his hips never stopping at their leisurely pace as he takes me in. His blue eyes dance with lust and are filled with desire as he takes me in slowly. He releases his hold on my legs, and they fall to the side of him. My feet rest on the bed as my knees spread wide to accommodate his large form. He once again leans forward. His face is above mine as he watches me wordlessly. I don’t know what this is. This new feeling he has invoked in me. 

“Oh, my love, it will never be too much. I told you about the smart mouth of yours. And I have shown you the errors of your ways. And now you know. Now you see. It can only be me. It will only be me that can make you feel this. Be this,” He whispers as if he is in awe of what his actions have invoked in me. His hips flex, and he continues his slow pace. I can feel my orgasm welling up within me. And I silently pray that he doesn’t deny me this. I need this more than I do my next breath.

I feel his release and his breath on the side of my neck as he continues his slow pace, saying how good of a girl I am for taking my punishment. He praises me. Tells me how much he loves my pussy, and how I will always be his.

I am his.

I was his.

And now, I’m not.

Because by morning, he was gone. Or so I thought.