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Chapter Twelve
Brett
I’d been surprised to find Hannah wasn’t in bed after I’d spent an hour pummeling the bag. Finding her in the living room, nude and waiting in the position I’d commanded she take last week, I’d been floored. But to hear her words, to listen to her demand that I prove my commitment had filled me with a pride that I couldn’t measure. Not for myself, but for her. Her actions, her expression, her requests told me that she was as dedicated to our new vows as I was. Hell, she’d proven she was more determined as I had been ready to forego maintenance night altogether. But as she’d cried, bucked, wiggled, and pleaded through the punishment that had roasted her ass, she’d never once begged me to stop. With every sweep of my belt, she’d cried out, tugged on the ropes I’d used to keep her hands safe, but after every single one, she’d pushed her bottom up to receive the next bite of the leather.
Pressing my lips to hers, it was like we were starving for the touch of each other. Her hands roamed my back, pulling me to her as I plunged my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. When she captured it, sucking hard, I felt the jolt shoot through me to settle in my cock, which was already a steel rod. I took command, pulling my tongue free and taking a nip of her bottom lip as I pulled away. The sound of her mewl told me how much she needed this connection. But it was the look in her eyes that told me how very much she craved to be claimed.
I kissed along her neck, licked behind her ear, feeling her nipples attempt to bore through my chest. Drawing the tight bud into my mouth, I didn’t lick it gently. I suckled hard and then took it between my teeth and bit down.
“Oh, God!” she cried, her body jerking.
Pulling my head back elongated the sensitive flesh. When she arched up, attempting to relieve the pressure, I shook my head, the nipple captured in my teeth having no choice but to follow the movement. My right hand slapped her right breast… once, then again until she got the message and laid back. Only then did I release her left nipple, which was red and swollen, slick with my saliva and, I knew, tender from my bite.
She shuddered as I moved to her other breast, caught her bottom lip between her teeth, anticipating what was coming.
“Your tits belong to me, Hannah. They are mine and the only person to see them, touch them, kiss and bite these beautiful nipples is me.”
We both knew that she hadn’t offered her breast to that bastard, but I knew she needed to hear that I owned her. She’d learn that I owned every inch of her.
“Put your hands on the rail and keep them there,” I commanded. Once her fingers gripped the headboard slats, I lowered my head. Though she knew what was coming, knew the flare of pain to expect, her nipple was puckered into a tight little flower. A few swipes of my tongue had it glistening, a hard, deep suckle had it tightening further, and when I bit down, she cried out again. Lifting my eyes to hers, her flesh between my teeth, I gave her a silent warning as I began to draw back my head. The flesh pulled, and perhaps because she felt she deserved the additional pain, or maybe she craved it to wipe away the memory of another man’s touch, she again arched to relieve the strain. I’d used a cloth to wash her breasts in the shower. Now, I used my hand to slap at the rounded globe, causing it to wobble, her to cry out and yet she didn’t relax, didn’t yet surrender.
“More, please… more.”
I released the nipple in my mouth and sat back to straddle her hips. Her chest was heaving, her nipples red and swollen, a slight flush of color on each breast, but that wasn’t enough to free her.
“Ten each,” I said. “You are not to arch or roll. You will lie still, push up your breasts to receive each single stroke. Understand?”
“Ye… yes, sir.”
I slapped the outside of each breast, the sound not as loud as when I smacked her ass, but still sharp and followed by her soft moans. Again and again, I punished each one in an ever decreasing circle, my fingers leaving marks on flesh that had once been pale. With only two strokes left, I leaned forward, took her left nipple in my teeth again, pulling and biting until she was writhing. Releasing it, I gave it the final two slaps. Repeating the process on her right breast, she had tears in her eyes yet there was also a look of gratitude. Bending forward, I kissed her softly.
“Good girl. Spread your legs.”
My cock had been leaking pre-cum all throughout the process of punishing her breasts, her belly slick with the sticky fluid as I changed position to kneel between her splayed thighs that glistened with her own arousal. I ran my fingers up the seam of her sex, spreading her labia lips open, exposing the soft pink inner ones and watching as even more of her cream oozed out.
“This pussy belongs to me. I’m the only one who is allowed to touch it, to lick it, to kiss it, to fuck it. Not even you are allowed to touch without permission. You don’t come without asking. And, Hannah, you don’t ever again leave this house in a dress that has every man want to rip it off you.”
“I-I’m so sorry,” she said.
Again we both knew she hadn’t truly gone looking to hook up with anyone. But, again, that wasn’t what this moment was about. Though I’d wed her a year earlier, tonight I was staking a claim in a way that would leave no doubt that she belonged to one person—me. Sliding my finger up and down her sex, watching her clit swell even more, seeing it turn darker with the blood that was rushing to fill it, I could see it pulse with her heartbeat.
Gliding my fingers up to slowly circle it, I slid my eyes up to hers. “Keep your legs open. Keep your ass on the bed. Let these remind you that this”—I paused and cupped her entire sex, squeezing hard enough that she mewled loudly, one hand coming free to reach down, only to instantly return to the post as I gave her cunt a twist—“belongs to me. A dozen. The two extras are because you released the rail. Ready?”
“Ye-yes, sir.”
“Pull your knees up and plant your feet wide.”
The first slap drew nothing more than a quick inhalation of breath and a look of surprise. I hadn’t spanked her pussy, but her inner left thigh. Her right thigh immediately received its own slap.
“I said wide, Hannah. I want every inch of your cunt displayed before I spank it.”
Her feet moved until her thighs shook a bit with the strain, but she’d opened herself beautifully.
“Good girl.”
This time, the first slap earned the sound of her cry and a jerk of her hips as her knees bent inward. Shaking my head, I said, “Who owns this pussy, Hannah?”
“You… you do, sir.”
