Addiction/Affliction {M.Healy}

yours/mine

Helloooooo all of you lovely lovely people!  This is the final chapter of this filthy story of which I am so proud. Thank you so, so much for all of your unconditional support and patience. I truly love you all, and I hope you enjoy this and that it wasn't shit 'cause I'm bad with final chapters and never wanted this horrible story to end. My family raised me better than to write this nasty ass story. XOXOXOXOXO.

Matty's palm struck my ass like the waves of the ocean to sand during a storm: heavy, grandiose, hard, and beautiful. The pain was sensual, dizzying and erotic. I gasped, and the sharp inhale of needed oxygen was caught in my throat.

A small, soft grunt came fom his lips and I closed my eyes, relishing in the overwhelmingly gorgeous sound of his pleasue. Then, he did it again, on the other side. Only, this time, harder.

"Ah!" I yelped, my body thrusting forward after the shockwave of his palm against my ass, which was surely red now.

The dark chestnuts waves of my hair kissed the floor, swaying gently, my breasts fallen forward in the nearly upside down state Matty had me in. His hand, his fingertips, smoothed over the red branding he had made, a soothing and soft sensation following the sharp one he'd just inflicted.

The man slid down my panties now, an appreciative moan coming from his lips as he took them off my ankles. As I whimpered beneath him, his hands spread me, wide open, and his fingertip slid down the crack of my bum all the way to the top of my glistening slit.

I would have begged him to thrust his fingers inside of my, if I only I could speak. And he kmew this, all too well. I had missed this so much; this relentless, unapologetic hold Matty had over me.

His fingers squeezed my ass softly, then spread me open again once more, doing this pattern several times. Matty knew I was his. He knew that nothing else mattered. His palm struck my ass again, and my ankles went upwards in reaction to the glorious pain of it all. Lower lip taught between my teeth and a scream pressing its way out of my mouth.

Again, the sharp cracking sound.

And again, on the other side, my pussy flooding now and my eyes watering.

"Fuck, you are gorgeous, aren't you?" Matty said softly, his middle finger pressing as it ran up and down my opening.

The entire room was spinning, and it was no exaggeration that I might faint soon. His palm met my ass again, and I nearly screamed.

"Too much, darling?" he asked me, stroking my lower back now.

"Y-y-yes," I said, not that the pain was unbearable, but because the pleasure was.

"Good," he said immediately, then spanked me harder.

I knew nothing about myself until I met this man.

"You're doing so well, love," he murmured, fingertips healing the welps he'd made.

"Th-thank you," I breathed out, my entire mouth dry.

Before I could register what was happening, Matty flipped my body over to where I was cradled in his arms bridal style, lifting me up and lying me on his bed gently, my wrists still bound together at the front. Those dark curls of his were lush and fallen against his brow as he kissed my forehead and freed my hands.

As I went to unbutton his shirt, he caught my hands and made a "tsk-tsk-tsk" sound.

"Oh, no, Jones," he shook his head slowly. "We're far from done."

. . .

An agonizing fifteen minutes later, I was tied the the four posts of Matty's bed, my limbs stretched out, my body naked and pleading. The man I loved was walking around his bedroom slowly, a glass of wine in his hand and a cigarette in the other, his shirt removed and his snug trousers undone but still around his hips.