"Come for me,” I order gruffly, pinching the nub of her clit between my fingers and rubbing it back and forth as much as that filthy little bud can take.
She cannot hold back. Not for a second. She comes with an animal scream, trembling and writhing. I pull the shaft free before she does herself any damage and watch as she collapses onto the bathroom floor, her fingers delving between her thighs to greedily drag the last vestiges of pleasure from the moment. She is wise to do so.
“Hands off,” I order, standing over her. She’ll soon learn that she gets nothing I have not allowed her.
I have fucked her into submission. I have used the very tool she has sinned with to shame and castigate her. And I have driven myself to the point of being nearly unable to stand with the aching in my balls, but that is a small price to pay for the message I have sent. We were filthy and debased, and I enjoyed every moment of it. By the look of her flushed face, I think she did too — even the parts she wasn’t supposed to.
I have driven myself half-mad with need for her, but of course I cannot merely follow rough instinct. Bryn will want an explanation, and I need enough blood running to my brain to be able to fabricate one.
“Get up and dry yourself," I tell her, tossing a towel over her.
She catches it and shoots me a look of temper. That did not take long to return. A woman such as this does not stay in the state of submission for long.
“I have nothing to wear," she says, scrambling up from the floor and wrapping the towel about her body. “My other clothes are covered in German man.”
How quickly practical concerns overshadow these moments of intense intimacy. My clothes will not fit her, obviously. But I do find a shirt that will suffice as a dress for her.
“Really. You expect me to wear this?” She holds it by the collar. It will be far too large, but the white shirt will do the job.
“It's the only thing I have that will cover you, and you will want to be dressed, I assume.”
“I don’t want to see Bryn," she says. “Not after.”
“And you’re not going to. I’m going to take you to the kitchen, and I am going to introduce you to a woman who is not, under any circumstances, to be crossed. Do you understand? Mrs Crocombe is to be respected. Not only because she is a lady who works very hard for this household, but because she is where the food comes from. Understand?”
She tosses her head and shoots me a look of such impertinence it is hard to believe she just knelt and held herself open for a good anal fucking. “Yes. I understand basic English.”
I spank her exposed bottom as she attempts to clothe herself. She makes a little yelp and rises to her toes. She has the cutest toes.
“You might understand the words, but you certainly do not understand the meaning,” I growl.
She is going to need constant handling, this one. I cannot wait.
Anita
I am aching, inside and out, physically and mentally. He made me come so fucking hard I almost forgot my name — and I’m in the mood to forget, so that was a favor.
This big Viking is even more twisted than I imagined. He’s harsh and he’s a little bit cruel in a way I think I like. I know I deserve a lot worse than what he just did to me. But I also know what he just did was wrong.
It’s hard to meet his eyes now. I don't bother. That throwaway comment just got me smacked hard enough to not want to try another one. I am in real trouble. Life changing trouble.
But for now, it sounds like I am going to be fed, and that’s all I need to understand. I can forgive and forget a lot of things in exchange for a hot meal. Like the hammer murder I perpetrated, and the absolute lashing Thor has given me. I am so fucking sore, but I am even more hungry.
I finish putting the shirt on. It barely covers my arse, but that’s probably a merciful thing. This man loves to punish. He takes glee in it, I think. When his palm was thundering down against my skin, I could feel him getting harder and harder against my hip and thigh. He’s a sadist. And he’s something more than that too. The hammer isn't a replica of anything. It’s real. It has power. Yes, any hammer can crush a skull, but I felt real power coursing through me. I felt the hammer’s essence all the way inside me. It felt like… him.