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“I’m going to come inside your mouth and you’re going to swallow every single fucking drop I give you,” he orders, as if I have any other choice. His grip on my head tightens as his cock swells inside my mouth. His thrusts become erratic, and I know he is about to come just from the quick thrusts. A moment later I feel the warmth of his come hit the back of my throat. It’s salty and not something I really enjoy.

“Swallow,” he grunts, his fingers moving from my cheek and to my chin, where he holds me in place. I obey, knowing there is no way I cannot. I swallow every last drop just as he instructs, his thick cock making it hard to swallow.

“Now, suck it clean,” he grits out.

He drags his cock out over my tongue slowly and I close my lips around him to suck him clean. Once he’s had his fill of me, he pulls away, and moves off of me. At the loss of his body heat the coldness in the room seeps into my bones, and I’m left feeling shameful, guilty. Tears, real ones start to fall from my eyes this time and a sob rips from my throat as I squeeze my lids closed. I feel dirty, and I hate myself a little for actually enjoying the way he took me.

What’s wrong with me?

I start to cry harder at the thought.

“Fuck, Gracie. Stop, please stop crying. I can’t fucking take it.” Hearing his voice, I open my eyes, and blink away the tears. “I didn’t hurt you. I know I didn’t fucking hurt you, so please stop crying.”

My chest constricts and my heart seems to beat faster inside my chest when he gets up and moves closer to me. His lips ghost against my forehead, and I almost wish the darker version of him was here right now. When it comes to him there is nothing I won’t do. It’s like he has this invisible hold on me, on my heart.

“I’m…I’m not crying because you hurt me…” I stutter.

“Then why are you crying, Baby?” His eyes soften, the blue in them returning to their summer-sky blue color.

“I feel guilty… I feel dirty…” I choke on a sob and twist away from him but being handcuffed to the bed leaves me nowhere to go, nowhere to escape, with nothing more than his hand he tilts my head back toward him.

“You liked it. You liked me taking from you. The power play, the darker side of me.” It wasn’t a question, he knew, he understood.

“Yes.” I admit even though I didn’t have to.

“I love you, Gracie, this changes nothing. You’re still mine, and you don’t need to feel guilty or ashamed for feeling pleasure over something like this. That was my intention and when you ask me to fuck you like this again, because you will, I’ll let you get off. But this was about you understanding that I am right, you want me just as much as I want you. You need to start trusting me again. I won’t be soft on you anymore, Grace. It’s my job to protect you, not coddle you.”

And with nothing more than a kiss to my forehead he pulls the blanket up over my body and slips from the bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

8

Luke

Punishing her should’ve been easy, it was nothing more than sex. I could never intentionally hurt her, never leave bruises. Hell, I didn’t even like spanking her as much as I should have, and it killed me not to let her come, ripped me apart inside, because it was my job to give her pleasure, and I wanted to feel that pretty pussy of hers flutter, and strangle my cock. I had missed it so much, that not giving into the need felt like I was betraying her, betraying our love.

But I needed to prove to her that I hold the power and that if she wants pleasure, she needs to earn it. I’m done with the games, done with treating her like a piece of fucking glass. Yes, she’s fragile but nothing like the woman I left behind two years ago.

She’s strong, and if she did happen to break, I will be right fucking there to catch her, to piece her back together again. She knows what I do for a living now, not that I was really hiding it before, but now it’s out in the open.

The bullet wound in my side decides to start throbbing and I grit my teeth looking down at the damn thing. There’s no blood, thankfully. I have had worse wounds, so this is nothing, still I need to let the fucker heal which means no more vigorous activity. I stew just inside the living room, giving her some time to gather her thoughts.

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