Chapter 5
Tuesday pushed back hard, greedy for every inch, desperate to be filled deeper, to be fucked harder, to be used until she shattered.
Sheneededto come. The friction and stretch in her ass made the ache in her hip flare hotter, and the all-consuming fire poured straight into her clit until she was shaking with it.
But the pain was growing teeth. It radiated up her thigh and down into her back, a deep, grinding burn that promised the crash would be ugly when the edge finally broke.
He didn’t disappoint, thankfully, and he slammed into her like a madman, hips hammering into her, driving so deep she felt it in her chest. Every brutal thrust tore a fresh cry from her, pain beyond description while lifting her to heights of need. She gave up trying to separate the two and simply let the indescribable agony and the pleasure twist together and feed each other until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Her left arm trembled, muscles burning from holding the release line for so long. She forgot it completely when the orgasm started to crest — frenzied, unstoppable, right there — until her arm jerked, the line released, and she dropped like a boulder.
Knife’s strong arms caught her before she hit the mat, controlling the fall so she landed on the mat with his cock still in her ass, and he drove into her harder now, with her lying half on her stomach, left leg still forced straight out to the side, right leg folded awkwardly under her, and his rhythm only paused a few seconds before taking off harder and faster than before.
Andfuckif he didn’t still manage to hold her hip exactly where it hurt the fucking most. His fingers dug in hard, straight into the raw, screaming nerves at the front of the joint while his palm pressed different nerves into bone, gripping her like he could feel every individual fiber tearing and wanted to own every single one of them while he pounded her body with a relentless, punishing pace.
She’d been right at the edge of an orgasm before she fell, and seconds after she hit the mat, she was right back on the desperate brink, the friction and stretch combined with the molten fire in her hip and the weight of him over her, pounding her…
“Come for me, little wolf.”
His gravelly command pierced into the core of her psyche and detonated. Her whole body seized, back bowing hard, and a raw, broken scream tore from her throat.
Pleasure and agony fused into a blinding wave, and her cunt clenched uselessly around nothing while her ass locked down on his cock like a vise, every ruthless thrust driving the wrenching, pulsing firestorm deeper into her hip, the pain sharper than ever, but she couldn’t stop moving.
She thrashed under him while his fingers stayed locked on the screaming joint, pinning the pain in place so she had no choice but to feel every pulse of it while the orgasm tore her apart.
It didn’t crest and fade. It kept rolling, crest after crest, each one higher and meaner than the last. Her vision whited out behind the blindfold. Her left leg kicked uselessly against the ropes and dowel still holding it straight, and every muscle in her body locked and released in violent spasms.
Still, he fucked her through it, fast and merciless, every thrust harder than the one before while his fingers dug into the exact spot that hurt the most, forcing her to ride the line between ecstasy and obliteration.
She came again, harder, a helpless, sobbing wail ripping free as tears soaked the leather over her eyes. The pain in her hip flared so hot it felt like the joint might shatter, and somehow that only made the pleasure sharper and more consuming. She was nothing but sensation — stretched, used, owned, burning alive from the inside out while her wolf howled in pure, feral surrender.
A third wave slammed into her before the second had even broken, wrenching another guttural cry from her chest. Her body convulsed so hard the ropes creaked, her ass milking his cock in rhythmic, desperate pulses. She couldn’tbreathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except take it — take him — while the orgasm hollowed her out and filled her up at the same time.
She couldn’t breathe anymore and was on the verge of blacking out when he finally stilled, hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep inside her ass with a low, vicious growl, his fingers tightening on her hip until she wailed with an inhuman sound and broke beneath him.
He stayed buried for a long moment, breathing hard, fingers still dug into her hip like he wasn’t quite ready to let the pain go. Then, with the same deliberate precision he’d used to bind her, he went to work.
The earplugs came out but the blindfold stayed on, and she was engulfed with sounds — his breathing, the wind outside. He grasped her straight leg and cut away the ropes and dowel so she could bend her knee and take some of the strain from her groin — and she whimpered in relief. He gently rolled her over, and the snick of safety shears sounded louder than they should’ve as he sliced through the chest harness, and she could breathe deeper.
He snipped a single knot on the bent leg, then the rope unwound quickly under his hands, leaving her loose and trembling on the mat.
Straightening her right leg hurt like a motherfucker, and a white-hot line of fire shot from the front of her hip joint into her lower back. Deep in the socket, something ground and popped, an underlying ache that radiated down the front of her thigh and into her groin.
It wasn’t the sharp sting of a surface cut or the thud of a bruise. This was deeper. Architectural. Every tiny shift sent fresh sparks along nerve pathways that had been compressed and starved of blood flow.
The burn was vicious, and yet, the release of pressure was almost orgasmic in its own right.
Knife’s hand stayed on her hip, fingers pressing into where the worst of it lived, as if he could feel every individual nerve and fiber screaming, and wanted to bear witness to it with her.
She gasped, the sound raw, and he murmured low against her ear, “That’s it. Let it hurt. I’ve got you.”
The leg straightened another inch, and the blaze flared hotter, brighter, until tears slipped free — not from distress, but from the sheer intensity of finally being allowed to unfold.
She yelped and cried out when he quickly pushed the butt plug back inside her, and then moaned when he turned it back on, lighting her clit up all over again.
He lifted her into his arms, carried her across the room, and settled her onto the soft mattress with care.
“You don’t have to talk, but you can if you want.”
