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Mason waited, keeping her draped over his thigh, listening as her little hiccups and sniffles grew fewer and further between. He needed some sign. Any sort of indication that she was back to herself.
“Please, Mason.” Her voice came out low and scratchy. “Find a way to make this feeling go away. I’m fucking begging you.”
He knew immediately what he needed to do. Pulling her up to her feet, he led her to the foot of the bed, bending her over the padded footboard.
A single sob ripped its way out of her throat. “Make it go away. I can’t stand it. I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.” She didn’t fight him at all, laying limply on the bed like a lifeless ragdoll.
With no choice but to leave her there, Mason crossed the house with long, swift strides. Grabbing his duffel bag from their pile of luggage by the door, he hurried back to the master bedroom.
She’d stayed exactly where he left her, not seeming to have moved a muscle. Dropping his bag on top of the dresser, he rummaged around inside until he found what he needed. He stood behind her a moment later, so close his pants brushed against her swollen, punished flesh.
“Make it go away.” A whispered plea this time. “Please.” Then she sucked in a sharp breath as he forced two lubed fingers into her ass.
“Is this what you need?” Mason asked, pushing, not relenting until he buried the digits inside her.
Her answering whimper told him all he needed to know. He wouldn’t even have to restrain her.
He took his time preparing her, knowing how she hated this, how much pain it caused. But also remembering what she’d said when he asked about the rating she gave to anal sex on her application.
“I don’t like anal for pleasure. But for punishment...when I’m spinning out of control and I can’t force myself to be good, make the right decisions, do the things I know I need to do...it makes me feel like a good girl again. It makes everything make sense.”
She whimpered again when he withdrew his fingers, the muscles in her back and shoulders bunching as she tensed. Burying her face in the quilt, she waited without another sound, but every single inch of her lithe little body trembled.
Tossing his belt aside, Mason shoved his clothes haphazardly out of the way, coating his cock in a healthy layer of lubricant. Carelessness here wouldn’t give her what her mind and body needed right now.
He moved in behind her, spreading her ass cheeks wide with his fingers. Lining the tip of his cock up with her waiting hole, he asked, “Addison, have you been out of control and acting completely out of character?”
“Yes, Master.” The quilt muffled the words.
“And do you need me to fuck you in the ass, so you come back to yourself, and remember how to be a good girl again?”
A shudder ran through her. “Yes, Master. Please don’t make me wait. I hate myself so much right now, I can’t stand it.”
Without another word, he shifted his hips forward. His baser instincts urged him to slam into her hard and fast, forcing his way past the ring of muscle trying desperately to keep him out. Keeping a firm grip on his control, he inched into her so goddamned slowly that his own muscles began shaking from the strain of it.
The wail that drifted out of her when he finally got the head past her tight ring was equal parts pain and despair. It slashed at his chest with jagged claws, the sound nearly powerful enough to rip his heart out of his fucking chest. Jesus Christ, this woman had experienced more heartache than any one person should ever have to endure. It made him want to gather her against his chest and never let her go.
That thought would have to wait until he had the time and mental energy to analyze it. For now, he redoubled his focus on taking care of this sweet, wounded creature before him. Gathering all his resolve, he continued pushing forward until his hips pressed gently against her bottom.
“You’re being such a good girl,” he said, voice shaking as the effort of restraint weighed on him. “When this is over, it’ll all be in the past. You can start fresh.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
Her hands fisted in the quilt. “Then fuck me as hard as you can. If this is my penance, make it real. Please, Master.”
She didn’t need to ask him twice. A sound halfway between a growl and a shout burst out of him, and his tightly wound control sprung free with explosive energy.
“Fuck!” Addison screamed as he pulled most of the way out and slammed back into her, his hips slapping against her punished ass.
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, Mason yanked her head back with enough force to pull her torso halfway off the bed. “What have I told you about watching your fucking language?” he ground out, slamming into her again.
“I’m sorry, Master. It won’t happen again.”
Releasing her golden hair, he returned his concentration to punishing her ass. It was so fucking perfect. Round and soft and beautiful, meant for spanking and fucking.
As he neared his completion, Addison turned her head, pressing her cheek against the quilt. Her eyes were closed, but not screwed shut in pain or concentration. No, everything about her looked gentle, peaceful, so she appeared to be sleeping. Her lips held the barest trace of a smile.
