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Instinctively I tighten, and that earns me a soft slap to my ass cheek.
“Relax,” he tells me, grinding his hips in such a way that I feel like I’m melting. “That’s it.”
The pressure of his fingers come back, rubbing at that tight, puckered hole, coaxing the spasming muscles into something slightly looser. He works the tip of one thick finger in, waits a moment, then slides it into the next knuckle.
I cry out, every muscle in my body twitching, including the ones currently clenching around his finger. Between his finger in my ass and his hard cock in my pussy I feel like I am entirely invaded by him.
But this is Elio. And Elio is always looking for more.
After a few minutes of stretching and sliding, he nudges another finger inside.
“It’s too much,” I say instantly, even though there isn’t any pain. Just this obliterating stretch, this fullness everywhere inside. Elio adds a little more lube, but he doesn’t give me any relief besides that. And the strangest thing starts to happen as he works those two fingers in and out, in and out, at the same pace of his thrusting cock.
I start to want more.
The promise of the climax that was hovering around me before draws closer, so close I feel like I could kiss it. But then Elio takes out his fingers, and I choke out a cry as if bereft.
Pressure returns, but this time it isn’t a finger. It’s something deliciously smooth, cold, and coated in lube. Elio presses it inwards and my flesh relents, accepting the bulbous shape of whatever it is. It’s bigger than Elio’s two fingers were, but my body is getting greedy, and I contract, sucking it deeper inside until it stops because of a wide, flat shape at the end that remains outside my body.
“What is that?” I moan, my ass spasming around the unforgiving hardness of the object.
Elio’s thrusts get faster and he gives a strangled groan, like he’s too aroused to answer me.
“That’s the stamp I used,” he finally rasps, “for the wax seal I used on that contract with your father.”
Shame and heat rocket through me in equal measure. Tears bite at my eyes, air tearing in and out of my throat.
“You’re so perfect, Deirdre,” Elio groans. “You have no fucking idea what I’m seeing from this angle. Your pussy filled with my cock. And your ass filled with the very thing that helped me get you in the first place.”
There’s pressure at the back, as if he’s pushing against the flat circle of the stamp, nudging the smooth handle deeper inside.
“You are mine,” he grinds out, his thrusts relentless. “Now and for-fucking-ever. Say it, Songbird. Tell me that you’re mine.”
“I… I…”
I’m going to come.
He stops thrusting and pulls his cock out of me. Then he pulls the stamp slowly but firmly out until I give a shameful whimper of complaint. I’m so fucking empty without him.
But suddenly, there’s new pressure against my needy flesh. Something hard and slick pushing into me from behind, not cold and smooth like the stamp but twitching and hot and alive.
It’s Elio’s cock, claiming me from the back. The stretch is unreal, so much more than what I experienced from the stamp or his fingers.
He hisses, pausing to let my tight ring adjust to his girth. After a moment that feels breathless for both of us, he thrusts forward, all the way to the hilt.
Slowly, he grinds in and out. His hand is like burning metal on my hip, squeezing the tingling skin as he begins to fuck my ass.
“Say it. Say that you’re mine.”
I barely hear him. I’m barely aware of anything besides the glorious, lascivious, terrible way that he fills me. He gives a mangled moan, then stutters into faster motion.
“Say it now.”
“I’m yours!”
I don’t just say it. I scream it
It’s true. I’m his. Irrevocably.
