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It was a pleasure to stripe her ass and her back with the worn leather, to raise welts on her skin. To lay down stroke after stroke, working his way up to giving her a good thrashing. And pretty little Cosima took it with barely a sound except for the occasional gasp when he caught her out unprepared from a break in rhythm or he’d hit the same spot over and over. It was a wicked game they both loved to play.
When her skin was red and welted enough, he dropped his belt to the floor, scraped his nails over the abraded skin of her back and bottom, making her hiss. Such a pretty sound, music to his ears.
Ryker flicked the water on in the shower, making sure it was hot enough, and then towed her in behind him. He turned her to face the far wall and brought her hands over her head, gripping both her wrists in one hand so he could grab the handheld shower head and direct it at her shoulders so the hot water would run all the way over the marks he’d just made.
Cosima jerked under his hand and made a startled “ngh” noise, but didn’t try to escape. Just made little squeaks and rasping sounds when he moved the shower head closer or concentrated the stream on a new patch of sensitized skin. When she became more accustomed to the sensation and less fun to toy with, he released her hands with a bite to her trapezius and stepped away.
“Wash me.”
He had to sit on the bench for her to shampoo his hair, which wasn’t all bad since it let him fondle her—take a nipple in his mouth and suckle hard and bite; or pinch, smack, and dig his nails into her sore backside. Plus, he loved how she scrubbed his scalp with her fingertips, the firm circles releasing some of the tension he’d been carrying for months in a way that snapping that motherfucker’s neck and helping dismember his corpse hadn’t.
Cosima slicked conditioner between her palms and over his hair, using it to smooth her hands over his neck and massage him there too. He didn’t deserve this generous woman or his other partners for that matter, but he would sure as hell hold on as tight as he could to all of them.
When she’d soaped him up and rinsed him from head to toe, he had her put her palms against the tile again. Pressed his throbbing erection into her back and cuffed her throat with a hand. She was so delicate, so fragile, but so brave and confident—confident in him. He would never take that for granted and he’d never abuse it. She deserved that much.
“I’m going to fuck your ass now, little one, and I’m not going to be gentle.”
“Yes, Sir,” was her breathy response.
Chapter Six
Cosima
When Sir said he wasn’t going to be gentle, he meant it. But she also knew he’d never really hurt her—not in a way she didn’t like. He snicked open the cap of the lube, drizzled some over his fingers and then promptly shoved one inside her, and then two.
It did feel good in a very different way than Daddy and Papa made her feel good when they played with her asshole. With them, she was intoxicated by their tenderness and their praise—it was slick and smooth and intimate and loving.
Not that Sir didn’t love her—she knew he did—but this was harsh and raw, primal in its passion. It made her feel powerful even as he roughly pumped his fingers in and out of her tight channel that she was trying her best to relax while she took deep breaths. It was grounding, having to concentrate so much on her body; it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his unlubed cock, and she hissed at the friction even as arousal surged through her body. Yes, this was perfect. Just slick enough to not do any real damage but rough enough to have her nipples tightening so much they ached, and her pussy soaked and painfully empty.
Sir fucked her hard, her heels lifting as he rutted into her, her tits pressed hard against the unforgiving tile, his hips slamming into her sore and welted backside.
“Yes, please, more,” she begged because she was close, so close but not close enough to tumble into the abyss he had her poised over. And she wanted to fall, needed to. Wanted to be reminded that this was the only kind of hurt she’d be subjected to ever again, and she loved it. “Please, Sir, please.”
Cosima knew he’d fuck her until he was good and ready to stop but she thought he might be looking for the blown-out relief that came with an earth-shattering orgasm because he wedged a hand in front of her pelvis, parted her swollen folds to find her clit and proceeded to pinch and twist it hard.
That was what she needed to send her over the edge, crying out wordlessly. Being handled like that hurt but it also flooded her with ecstasy and cleared her head until it wasn’t even the two of them anymore. They were singular somehow, especially as she felt his teeth sink hard into the slope of her shoulder and the pulse of her internal muscles spur Sir’s orgasm. He spilled his release inside of her, spurt after hot, jetting spurt.
Sir held her up, pinning her between his heaving chest and the tiles, and it was perfect. The pressure, the warmth, the haziness of satisfaction. They stayed that way until their breath had slowed, and then Sir bit her on the same spot he’d marked her before, making her suck air between her teeth.
“Alright, little one. Let’s get you cleaned off so your daddy and your papa can have their turn.”
It was deliciously filthy how her Sir talked about her like an object to be passed off to the next man or men in line. How he took the time to pretty her up after he’d so thoroughly wrecked her, like he was wrapping up a present to regift at a party. It was fun because she was being passed off to Daddy and Papa, people who adored and cherished her as much as the man who was handing her over.
When Sir had decked her out in some of her prettiest, frilliest little clothes, he brought her down to the living room. Daddy and Papa looked up from the couch where they were both sitting, gazes raking over her, probably wanting to make sure she was okay. Cosima knew she was glowing and indeed, their postures almost immediately relaxed.
“Here,” Sir said, pushing her toward them. “I brought you a toy to play with. But I want to watch.”
Maybe it was messed up to get turned on by some of the things she did after what she’d been through. But the thing was, this was all her choice. If she said stop, it would stop. If she said wait, they’d wait. And that was what made all the difference, turning her life from a nightmare into a fantasy. That and of course just how much they loved her. She was so lucky.
“Hey, teapot,” Daddy said as he tugged her onto his lap. He laughed when she sucked air through her teeth because ow it hurt to sit down on her recently belted ass. “Did you have a good time with Sir?”
She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
“He make you sore?”
“Oh, yes, Daddy.”
