Her face crumples and she sobs out, “It’s stupid,” before letting the tears fall again.
I continue rubbing soothing circles, occasionally squeezing her ass to keep the blood flowing and the nerve endings on edge. The endorphins flowing in her blood will make her pleasure that much greater. Both the body and mind always prefer pleasure to pain.
And I’ll give her both. Although she hates me now, she’ll love me when this is over.
My fingers drift to her core this time, pressing inside of her and I’m instantly rewarded with her arching her neck, her eyes closed as a small moan of pleasure drifts from her reddened lips. Her cheeks are tearstained, and a few droplets still linger on her lashes.
Her cunt clamps around my fingertips, begging me for more.
A strangled moan fills the hot air as my cock hardens even more and presses against her belly. Fuck, I want her. I need to have her tonight and claim her again. To remind her of how much she belongs with me.
“Tell me now, Aria,” I demand, my voice deep and rumbling with the need I feel alive in every cell of my body.
She only whimpers, and then defiantly shakes her head. “I don’t know, I swear I–”
Before she can even finish, I slap her ass as hard as I can. The pain that had numbed brightens back to life. Under her ass cheeks, on her ass, on her pussy. I spank her in a new spot each time, rotating between them but the pace is ruthless, the slaps unforgiving. My jaw clenches and the pain rips up my arm as she screams out.
“Stop lying to me,” I barely get the command out through clenched teeth as I stop the punishment, forcing myself to breathe and instantly soothe her reddened skin.
She heaves in a breath and then another. A shudder runs down her body that morphs her sobs to moans. She’s close to this being so much more. But what I want are answers and she won’t cum until I get them. I’ll make damn sure of that.
The hair on the side of her face, wet from her tears, is stuck to her skin as she says, “I saw the date.”
Her upper body rocks and she tries to move away from me, groaning with a pained expression before telling me, “I saw the date on your phone.” Her words are spastic at best, but I know I heard her right.
My breathing is still erratic, my hand stinging with pain and my lungs refusing to move as I take in what she’s telling me.
My fingers loosen on her wrists slowly as I wrap my arm around her waist, careful not to touch her ass until I’m ready to set her on my lap.
She winces and seethes, not moving her arms even though she freely could.
Bringing her into my chest, I let her collapse in my arms. Her hands lift to my shoulders as the tears soak into my shirt. The feel of her cheek on my shoulder as she buries her head in the crook of my neck is already a soothing balm to me.
“You saw the date?” I prompt her to tell me more. To explain it to me as I comfort her.
“The day before was my mother’s–” she gasps, not finishing and I run my hand up and down her back, letting her cling to me.
I shush her, letting my warm breath whisper along her hair and I wait for her to settle.
“You missed the anniversary of your mother’s death?” I ask her, feeling a pain inside me crumple every bit of strength I have.
“Yes,” she croaks and tries to climb closer to me as if she wasn’t already pressed against me. “It was the first time,” she says in between breaths, “that I didn’t go to her grave.”
Holding her while she cries, knowing the pain she’s feeling could have been avoided so easily. I could have done something to help her, even if it meant gathering dozens of men to protect her while she saw to her mother’s grave. I could have done something if only I’d known.
“I’m sorry.” I try to put every ounce of compassion into my apology. “Please believe how sorry I am,” I say and kiss her hair, her shoulder and then pull her away to kiss her swollen red lips.
She buries herself back into the crook of my neck and then cries out as her ass brushes against my pants.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say as I maneuver her on my lap, so I have access to her cunt. “Hold on to me,” I command her, and she does instantly. She needs someone to hold and someone to hold her, I’ve never been more sure of it.
“This will make the pain go away,” I tell her, although my words are hollow. Pleasure can hide only one specific kind of pain. I rub her clit first, letting the intensity from the unique pleasure that comes after both pain and mourning flow through her.