His fingers dug into my loose chignon, pulling just enough to give me that welcome element of pain. All the while the necklace that he gave me kept its greedy metal fingers on my pulse, the swell of my throat, the charm banging the hollow at my clavicle. Mocking me.
He yanked my hair hard when he came and that bright burst of pain pushed me over the edge. I climaxed a second later, shivering fingers buried in my soaking wet pussy, my clit throbbing in time with my heart.
He took my hand and helped me stand after tucking himself back in. Always he treated me as if I were royalty. Some great beauty, some wonderful lady, to be admired and cherished. Until she was used and abused. Spanked and bound and whipped and fucked. Although I knew that was only him cherishing me all the more.
I wiped my lips with a tissue he handed over and then he kissed me. Almost a perfunctory kiss, but not quite. His tongue snaked out at the very last second, sneakily taking a taste of his semen on my lips. It always turned me on when he allowed himself to go there. He’d once whispered, ‘One of these days, I’m going to clean up after myself when I come. And then I’ll fuck you again. What do you think?’
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