Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
“Puppet, beautiful fucking puppet, I need you to make me come.”
I shake my head, then lean in and start kissing him, sucking at his lips, turning them red with bites of aggression.
“Shit. Don’t you tell me no, Hanna.”
“I can do whatever I want when I’m the one with all the power. I’m in control, and if you want to fill me with your cum, you will do it when I’m ready to take it. Each—” I slide up. “—and every—” I slide down. “—drop.” I circle. The impact of me coming down has my clit hitting his pubic bone, and I nearly orgasm.
“Off, now, Hanna.”
I shake my head, and in a frenzy, I start fucking him like I’m within seconds of having it all ripped away from me.
“Hanna!” he barks, and I explode, that forbidden feeling laced with his authority setting me off. I pulse around him violently. “You bad girl.”
With that, the Christmas garland makes a loud snapping sound, and suddenly I’m ripped off his cock and thrown on the bed, my sex still not ready to lose the connection.
“No!” I scream out. But my scream turns into a louder screech when he slaps my ass so hard I already feel the mark forming.
“Theo! I’m sorry! I’m so—”
“Naughty women get spanked. You broke the rules, puppet. That was for me, not you!” he seethes, slapping my ass again, and the pulsing between my legs keeps going. In fact, instead of fizzling out, it seems to start all over again.
“I won’t do it again. I needed it,” I cry out, being vocal with my desire. The chasing, the control, the raw sexual way he lusted after my curves, it was all too much, and I needed the release. It was all I could do. I had no other option.
“You come again, and I will make you wait not just here but a week. You don’t break the fucking rules, puppet.” With that, he slams into me, fucking me with ferocity, showing me no mercy.
I cry, claw, and scream into the sheets, not knowing where I start and he begins. The room becomes a haze of animalistic pleasure. My soft thighs burn from the repeated slaps of his muscular ones. My pussy aches from the stretching and filling over and over again. I about pass out when he leans forward, clasps his hands around the column of my neck, and jerks me up and backward, my back bowing in a deep arch.
Through gritted teeth, he asks me, "Who’s owns this cunt? Huh?”
“You.” My voice sounds disembodied as I choke out the word through his tight grip.
“Who’s my personal little cumslut?”
“Me—fuck me.” I clamp down on him.
“No, no, puppet. This is mine.” He stops and squeezes my neck tighter, letting my pussy come down from the inevitable climb it was making.
“Please.” The desperation in my voice isn’t derived from stealing his pleasure. It’s the closeness. I want to be fucked like a whore, his whore, someone he can treat any way he wants, but then I want to be lost in the aftercare, where I’m the most precious thing in his life. A prized possession, a woman with feelings, feelings he holds to the highest tier of respect. What a beautiful, clustered mess we are. Torture and pleasure. Lust and love. Deprivation and satiation.
Reading me so well, he slams back in, and with a few more punishing thrusts, he lets go of my neck, shoves my face back into the covers, and aligns his front to my back as he empties inside me. As he kisses my shoulder and the back of my neck, I can feel him coming back to me.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he whispers.
“I am?” I implore, searching for the validation only Theo can give me.
“Yes, baby, so good. Come here.” With that, he climbs off the bed and takes my hand, helping me rise from the bed. My knees are weak, my ass is sore, and my core is aching. But I’m his, covered in all the markings only he gives me.
“Up-up, baby.” I never thought a man would be able to effortlessly carry my plus-size body like Theo can, but here he is, lifting me and letting me wrap my legs around his waist as he takes me to the bathroom. I wrap my arms lazily around his neck, and we share even lazier kisses. Our tongues caressing with the slightest of touches.
What a contrast it is from who we were a mere few feet away in the bedroom. Slowly, he sets me on the counter, being sure the pain of his spanking isn’t too much. The cool marble helps with the stinging when my flesh meets the surface.
“You think you can handle a bath?” he asks, starting up the tub.
I nod and take this moment to watch each step he takes. Precision, confidence, and he never misses a beat. His nakedness is the other thing I admire. There isn’t one ounce of fat on him. No body part is left without some form of definition or muscle. Old me, she would have believed—she did believe—she didn’t deserve it, but the new me? She knows her worth and believes she’s just as deserving of him as he is of her. I’m a woman worth having and begging to keep.