Broken Submission

Giggles and Orgasms

Amelia flinched as her backside scraped against sheets that felt like sandpaper on her tortured skin. She blinked, squinting through the sunlight that slipped through the crack in the curtains. Derek's breath drew her eye.

Contentment settled over her as she gazed at him. He was soft and gentle in his sleep, hair ruffled and muscles relaxed. She wanted to kiss the bump on his nose, wanted his hands on her. She reached out, trying to be quiet. And she just rested the back of her hand over his. Tears pricked her eyes. How long she had wanted this. Comfort, connection, companionship.

He stirred in his sleep, lips smacking as he inhaled. She pulled back, afraid she was waking him. But his hand reached out, seemingly of its own accord and grabbed her wrist tugging it until he cuddled her arm to his chest. He smiled in his sleep. A giggle rose in her chest. Another deep inhale and his eyes fluttered open.

He smiled sleepily at her. "Hey beautiful," he murmured.

"Hey yourself." Her voice was soft and rough with sleep.

He reached out again, this time catching her by the waist and hauling her bodily against him.

His muffled voice floated down from where it was buried in her hair. "Much better."

She smiled and buried her face in his chest. His skin was warm and smelled like man, like salt and earth and a hint of body wash. A devious thought ran through her head and before she could overthink it, she nuzzled her way from the center of his chest to his nipple. And then she bit it.

He swore, trying to wriggle away, but she kept it clamped between her teeth. She laved the little thing with her tongue, and when he stopped struggling, she sucked. He swore again, this time for an entirely different reason. She felt his morning wood twitch against her thigh in time with her suckling. Her hands drifted up, drawing light circles over his chest, his sides, his back.

His fingers dug into her back and her hair. She twirled her tongue, and his whole body made a desperate, rolling thrust in her direction. He groaned and tugged with the hand that was entwined in her hair. Her mouth left his nipple with a sad pop. She stared up at him as he panted.

"Naughty girl," he growled, voice thick with arousal.

She grinned impishly. In a quick maneuver, he rolled, placing her beneath him. Her breath caught at the suddenness of the position, gulping at the mischievous intent in his eyes. He stripped off the covers. She wore only his T-shirt and he, a pair of boxers. He straddled her hips, dragging his fingers from her belly to her wrists, glancing off the tips of her breasts along the way, making her whine and squirm.

The throbbing in her backside only elevated her arousal. He circled her wrists with his fingers and placed them above her head. Pulling out restraints that she'd never noticed from behind the headboard, he bound her in that position.

"Derek," she breathed.

His eyes darkened. Placing his face in the crook of her neck, he laid fevered kisses along the sensitive column of her throat, nipping and sucking and biting until she writhed.

At last he pulled back, both of them breathing heavily. He set his forehead against hers.

"I love hearing my name on your lips," he whispered.

A tear ran down her cheek. I love you. But it was too soon. Instead, she tilted her head and raised her mouth to his. He accepted her invitation, lips moving against her own, his tongue sliding between. When he pulled back, dragged his teeth against her bottom lip, he grinned.

"But I have payback to get to," he said.

Her eyes widened. He moved backward, settling between her thighs. He inched the T-shirt up over her hips, peeling it back to reveal every inch of her. He kissed each newly exposed inch of skin and didn't stop until the shirt tangled around her wrists. She gulped as he stared down at her, lust and playfulness mixing potently.

"Oh the things I'm going to do to you," he murmured, and her hips bucked from just the sound of his voice.

He gripped the back of her knees, bending her legs up and to the sides so that there was not an inch of her hidden to him. And from there, he proceeded to lick and tease and torment her exposed flesh until she shook from his onslaught.

She whimpered. "Please, please Derek, please sir!"

The vibrations of his laugh made her arch with a unsatisfied scream.

"Do you," he murmured between his ministrations, "think you. Deserve to cum?"

She paused, unsure if he meant after everything that had happened. She'd thought that the punishment last night had put that behind them, but maybe she was still being punished.

"I—" she started.

As if he knew where her mind had gone, Derek ramped up his assault. Her ability to think or speak coherently vanished.

"Uh uh," he said. "That's over and done with." He thrust his fingers into her while flicking his tongue rapidly over her clit. "I think you've suffered enough sweetheart. Cum for me." He dove back in, and she screamed as she went over the edge. He continued his assault, drawing out her orgasm, until at last she collapsed.

Derek smiled at her limp form. Wiping his fingers on the sheets, he moved to unhook her arms. When she woke, he would put some cream on her backside. He'd been gentle with it this morning, seeing just how many marks remained. He went to the bathroom and ran a cloth under warm water. He pressed it between her legs, smiling at her displeased murmur. She'd feel better for it.

"Derek?" God, he loved hearing his name from her lips. How had he never known how potent that would be?

"Si, mi amor?"

A smile crossed her face. "I didn't know you did Spanish pillow-talk. We should have done this before."

He laughed. "My mother, it just slipped out."

She pushed herself up, and he noticed the wince she tried to hide as her weight landed on her sore bottom.

"Come here." The jar of cream sat beside him already.

She obeyed, watching him curiously. "Over my lap."

Her eyes widened, a hint of fear entering her expression at the idea of taking more on her already sore bottom.

He took her face in his hands. "Trust me."

She relaxed at his touch. "Yes sir." She draped herself over his knees.

He frowned at the extent of the damage. He knew the reasons he'd had for doing what he did, but in the light of day, the knowledge of how much pain he'd caused her made him cringe.

"How do you feel? Honestly?"

She shifted in his lap. "I'm okay," she said. "Just a bit sore. There's no way I'm wearing jeans anytime soon," she laughed.

He smiled faintly, still a bit troubled.

"Hey." She reached behind her and grabbed his hand. "It's okay. I'm okay. I don't regret anything we did last night."

He searched her eyes for dishonesty. Finding none, he relaxed and settled to his task. He scooped out the soothing cream, spreading it in soft circles over her cheeks. When there was an even coating, he gently massaged.

She flinched when he hit a welt or a particularly deep bruise, but for the most part, she drew comfort from his ministrations. She nearly fell asleep again under his touch. Some time later though, a cheeky slap made her jump.

"All done."

She pushed off his lap. Standing before him, she glanced down at the erection he was still sporting. And, not breaking eye contact, she sank to her knees. Once there, she looked demurely to the floor.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?"