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“Stop.” He smacked her ass. Not an easy, light tap. It stung. It sent her into a mindless realm of pleasure that would kill her. Her hips bucked again.

He smacked her again. Sarah cried out in humiliation and a desire so deep and desperate she could no longer control it. His hand landed again on the other cheek. Sharp, loud. Sarah bucked, moaning, nearly crying now the pleasure was so intense. Her buttocks were on fire and she knew she wanted more. The humiliation of it was deep, intense. It was a part of herself that she didn’t know if she could handle.

“Sarah. God, Sarah.” His hands gripped her hips hard, holding her tight as his body tightened. “Not yet, baby. Not yet.”

“Please, Brock,” she cried out against his chest as he held her close, her hands gripping his shoulders, need rocking through her as she pleaded with him.

“Stay still, Sarah.” His voice was hard now, determined. “I want you to feel, baby. Just feel it. See how good it is? How hot it is to be filled like this?”

“The feeling is killing me, Brock,” she cried out into his chest. “I can’t stand it. Please let me cum.”

“Not yet,” he groaned. “In a minute. I promise. This is what it will be like, Sarah. What it’s like for Marly. Hot and full, stretched and held. It’s like that, Sarah. Do you understand?”

She understood. She understood from the first what this lesson meant.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, Brock. Now please. Please fuck me.”

She twisted against him now, grinding his cock inside her as a shattered cry tore from her throat.

He gripped her hips harder. Slowly he drew back, then pushed into her once again. Easy, lingering strokes that had her nearly screaming out her need for more. Her hips twisted against him, her body bucking as her back arched.

“Damn you,” she cried out hoarsely. “Fuck me. Do it now.”

“Will you accept it, Sarah?” His voice was tortured. “Tell me now. Now, Sarah. Will you accept their touch?”

“Yes,” she screamed, delirious with arousal. “Anything, Brock. Anything, damn you. Just fuck me.”

The growl that tore from his throat sounded feral. He gripped her hips then, hard and tight and began to thrust. Sarah lost her breath. Deep, hard thrusts. They speared through her tight cunt, surging through the gripping muscles as he seemed to spear into her very soul.

She lost her sanity. Her back arched as a scream tore from her throat and she shattered. The explosive climax tore t

hrough her body with the force of a tidal wave, washing over her, drowning all humiliation, shame or regret. On and on, it pulsed through her body, tightening her cunt around the cock plunging harshly inside it. Until she felt the thick erection jerk, felt Brock shudder then flood her inner recess with spurt after spurt of his thick, hot cum.

Sarah collapsed on his chest, breathing harshly, her body still trembling, her vagina gripping him, pulsing around him. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Sweat dripped from their bodies, and the scent of sex and satisfaction wrapped around them with heated remnants of desire.

“God. Damn.” Brock’s voice was hoarse, astounded as he continued to fight for breath.

He eased Sarah gently to his side, tucking her against the back of the couch as she drifted in a haze of completion, awake, but not really aware.

“Leave me alone,” she mumbled, feeling the gentle hands as he brought her to her back and spread her thighs.

She whimpered as she felt him pull the plug free of her body. An echo of her earlier climax pulsed through her body. What had happened to her? She had been mindless, begging, in the grip of something she couldn’t understand and didn’t want to look at too closely right now.

“It’s okay, baby.” He soothed her gently as he picked her up in his arms and headed for the stairs. “Come on, I’ll carry you to bed.”

“You aren’t staying tonight. I need to sleep.” She laid her head on his chest, sleepiness sheltering as warm and light as Brock’s arms.

“You’ll sleep,” he promised, and Sarah knew she heard a smile in his words. Evidently, he intended to ignore her, just as he had last night.

“Bossy,” she muttered as he laid her in the bed then began to clean her thighs gently. The soft warmth of the cloth he used lulled her tired body into settling closer to sleep.

“I have to be,” he told her as he kissed her forehead gently. “If I weren’t, you wouldn’t be so tired right now, Sarah.

Sarah sighed. Was he right? He probably thought he was. She blocked the thought from her head, slipping into the sheltering arms of sleep as she felt the blanket being tucked about her shoulders. He was tender. He kissed her forehead, smoothed his hands over her hair, then darkness enfolded her.

* * * * *

Brock sat at the edge of the bed and watched Sarah sleep. She looked innocent and sexy at the same time. It tightened his chest, made his throat ache with emotion to see her like this, curled close to him, exhausted from satisfaction. The silken, honey-gold strands of hair were tangled around her face and shoulders, the long, light lashes lay like soft shadows on her cheeks. One hand was tucked beneath her cheek, the other lay on his thigh.

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