Page 38 of Magnum, Volume 1

I adjusted, stretching until my arms were as high as I could reach in this position. My calves burned. The plug felt obscene and ten times bigger.

My cunt felt empty.

“This is how you wait for me,” he said. His voice was low. “So I can see the plug peeking out of your tight asshole, and your red, raw cunt below it.” His fingers brushed lightly over the base of the plug, making me twitch. “You know your cunt is destined to permanent soreness while in this house, yes? You’re smart. I’m sure you’ve figured it out.”

The words hit me like a fist to the chest, because I’d been thinking I’d get used to his size, that the constant ache would fade once I was accustomed to all the ways he’d use me. I’d convinced myself the relentless, raw, bruised, inflamed, never-ending torment between my legs would fade into something manageable.

But standing there, stretched out and displayed exactly the way he wanted, I felt the truth of it settle over me like a weight. His cock was too big, too textured, too fucking malformed to ever get used to. The end part is normal cock-skin, but starting about halfway back, it’s corded and rough — right where it starts getting too big to take. It feels like jute rope at the thickest spots, and there’s no way to get used to that.

He was right. I was never going to stop feeling him. I was going to walk around this house every single day with the memory of him inside me. Raw and throbbing and half out of my mind with it all the motherfucking time — horny every minute of every hour because of the heat and ache inside me.

My eyes burned again, and I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or come.

“Grab the overhead bar, slave.”

I pushed away from the wall, stepped under the chin-up bar, and jumped up to grab it.

He removed the shoes before he unlaced the cincher. When it finally came off, I sucked in a full, deep breath that made my head spin.

Then he reached between my legs and started working the plug out.

I sobbed the second it began to stretch me again. I couldn’t help the raw, broken sounds that tore out of me while he slowly pulled it free, and then my hole clenched and fluttered around nothing, sore and empty and oversensitive.

He walked around to my front, cradled my cheek, and swiped the single tear trailing down my cheek. He put his finger in his mouth to taste it, removed it, and finally said, “Permission to release.”

I dropped to my bare feet and stood there shaking. I wasn’t crying again, but I was swamped with so many feelings, I wasn’t far from it.

“Who am I, slave?”

“Magnum, Sir,” I whispered.

“Exactly right.” He stepped back. “Anything I need to know before we prepare for company?”

I blinked, trying to pull my thoughts together. “Company?”

“Mad Dog, Squatch, Skippy, Gears, Frost, Dementor, and his ol’ lady. She works for Drake Security. Her partner might come too, but I’m not sure what’s going on there yet.”

My brain finally caught up. “We’re working out a game plan?”

He nodded. “Skippy has some decent ideas, and Mad Dog is deciding whether to approve them. You should shower and get dressed.” I glanced at the clock. “You have about forty-five minutes.”

I swallowed hard, still raw from everything that’d just happened. The idea of sitting in a room with that many bikers while I was still physically aching and emotionally scraped raw made my stomach flip. But I only nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

Chapter 17

Magnum

She disappeared into her bedroom, and I didn’t know what to expect. I’d already decided she doesn’t have any privacy and her room isn’t off-limits to me, but it felt like I needed to give her a little space. It’d been an intense day and night, and she likely needed time to process things before confronting a planning meeting.

But she came down the stairs when the motorcycles sounded in the driveway, her makeup perfect, hair in a messy bun, and without any angst. She wore loose blue jean shorts with a pastel pink T-shirt tucked in, sport sandals on her feet, and held her closed laptop at her side.

“Any special protocol around them?” she asked. “I don’t expect to screw up and call you Sir, but if I do, will it be a problem? Are you going to tell them we’ve… I don’t know, fucked, I guess, though it’s…” She met my gaze. “It’s a lot more than that.”

“It is, indeed, a whole helluva more than that. I don’t keep secrets from my brothers, but I don’t feel the need to announce our new status at this time. If you call me Sir, it’s fine, but you shouldn’t need to.” I looked her over from head to toe and back up. “You good?”

“Yes. Should I put snacks together?”