I’m going to make you cry harder.”
It’s awkward as hell, reaching back the way he wants me to, and harder than I would ever have imagined. If I had ever imagined doing this. Once my hands are in place and my nipples are crushed against the pages underneath me, Leo settles himself back between my legs and resumes his own project.
His tongue on bare skin is too much. My hips buck against the table hard enough to bruise. I still can’t stop. Not until he puts his tongue in that place again. “No, no, no,” I chant.
“You gave this to me, too. Did you forget?” A sharp slap on the side of my ass, then another five. “Don’t let your hands slip. My belt works as well as a strap.”
My hips move involuntarily, remembering that strap. Is this what people mean when they say delirious? My vision’s blurred, but I’ll be damned if I don’t follow his orders.
If I let go, he’ll hurt me. Do it, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. Let go. Let him hurt you. He does it so well. That’s the awful, depraved truth. He does it so well, and it makes me so wet, and I know he would make me come after. He would.
Thick fingers press against my asshole, and my breath stops. No one. Never. Not until Leo.
“Fuck, you’re tight here. This won’t be easy, darling. Take a breath.”
I’m halfway through that breath when he sinks those fingers into me up to the knuckle. Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus. His fingers are huge. They stretch me, they burn, and he’s not stopping. My head comes up off the books, which makes me tense and tighten, and Leo pushes it down with his free hand.
He forces his fingers farther in. My gasp echoes off the ceiling. “That’s it,” he croons. “Fight me. Don’t for a second relax that tight hole and let me in.”
The second he says it, I can’t resist him. I stop trying to lift my head and focus all my energy on relaxing. It doesn’t seem possible until it happens. Leo pushes his fingers the rest of the way in with a hiss. “Good girl.” His laugh spills over me like red wine. “That was hot, the way you clenched when I said that. You get another finger.”
“Too much,” I beg, even while I dig my fingers into my own flesh to keep myself exposed for him. “I can’t take it.”
“Cry if you need to.”
I do need to. The stretch and burn intensifies until tears leak down onto book pages, until my cunt is nothing but a wet ache. This is the meanest thing that anyone’s ever done to me. I never want it to stop. I can’t catch my breath when his fingers are seated. Leo doesn’t care. He reaches between my legs with his other hand and pinches my clit. I don’t recognize the sound that comes out of me. A plaintive whine. A begging cry. Leo makes a noise in the back of his throat that makes me tighten on his fingers again.
“You’re not going to come tonight unless it’s on my fingers.” His voice is low and rough in my ear. “Or on my cock. Fingers first, I think.”
He strokes between my legs and my face is hot enough to catch the books on fire. To curl the pages and send them up in smoke. I can’t stop the tears. I don’t know if they’re from wanting to come more than I want to breathe, or how much my asshole hurts stretched around his fingers, or from the horrifying truth that I like this. I need this. My orgasm has been waiting, struggling against the pain, but under his expert fingers it winds up and snaps.
Coming on his fingers is a thousand times more intense when those fingers are stretching a virgin hole. He keeps them in deep while I ride it out. They seem even bigger by the end. Too big. So big. I only discover I’m saying this out loud when Leo answers.
“Yes. You’re fucking tiny, and tight. Your pussy will stretch too, darling. It won’t have any choice.”
He turns me over onto my back and fresh heat flares on my face. I’m tearstained and panting and disheveled. The pretty gown he dressed me in is up around my waist. This is as intimate as when he told me his secrets. He’s the secret now. He’s going to be the mark on my