Page 99 of Connor's Claim

Everly

When I woke, it was to daylight and…pressure. On the table beside the bed, the sedative case was open, and I was face down on the blanket with Connor covering my back. One big hand splayed across my shoulder blades, holding me down, while his knees opened my thighs from behind.

I wasn’t sedated. Not yet. All the same, I didn’t move.

Apart from my heart which skipped a beat then thundered.

Connor fucked into me with a single punishing thrust. I bit my lip over a moan, then held still while he took his fingers to my entrance, pushing two in along with his dick.

He played, stretching me, some purpose in his determined actions that I couldn’t yet guess.

A buzzing followed. He trailed my vibrator down over my backside then took it to where he was spearing me open.

I closed my eyes. This was my punishment.

Just as we’d watched Tabitha get double-teamed, he was going to do the same to me.

There was anger in his abrupt moves, no softness or gentleness in how he touched me. Lube drizzled down me, then he pulled out so just the tip of him was rightthere, but the vibrator was, too. The blunt head of it edged inside me while he simultaneously fed me his dick. The stretch burned. I shuddered. Still didn’t budge.

Working his hips, he glided shallowly in and out, the path eased by the lubricant but hindered by the presence of the end of the thick vibrator. It didn’t stop him. Connor took his time, methodically toying with me to gain the next inch. Then another.

In my fear and panic, I’d lost track of any pleasure, but it suddenly hit in a wave. Halfway inside me, the vibrator hit a pleasure point, and desire streaked outwards. I took a breath and forced myself to relax. I wanted him to get there. Needed it for us both so we could crest and fall together then move on.

I so badly hoped we could.

His dick and the vibrator entered another inch.

With my eyes closed, all I knew was that intrusion. It didn’t hurt. The pressure edged on intense, but it was also good. The slight rocking of his hips gave me a burst of need, and all of a sudden, the fullness became a source of focus for a different reason. My internal walls pulsed with the warning of an oncoming climax.

Connor made a sound, but I kept my every reaction inside. Even when he managed a series of stunning thrusts. Even when he upped the vibrator’s tempo and unleashed a crashing wave of pleasure on me, I shook involuntarily, but my lips stayed closed and so did my eyes.

When I drifted down again, the vibrator slowed to a rolling pulse, and with one last jack of his hips, Connor bottomed out. He groaned in satisfaction, and I inwardly smiled in relief.

He’d done it. We’d done it.

Another buzzing followed.

My focus clung to the noise, then to Conner’s actions as he shifted around me, still buried deep with his dick alongside the vibrator inside me, but busy with another task.

He dropped his face to the base of my neck, ran his lips down it then abruptly shredded the collar of the shirt I’d forgotten to remove after seeing the police, ripping it in two. Then right beneath where the shirt’s collar had sat, he pricked my skin.

In a rush, I recognised the other buzzing. His tattoo gun.

Fright broke over me. The scratching continued. He was tattooing me. Marking my skin. If I’d thought my punishment was over with the extreme sex act, I was wrong.

Breathing in short pants, I jumped my focus between whatever ink he was laying on me and the still-pulsing vibrator lodged alongside his dick.

He finished the tattoo and brushed over it with a cloth, then extended my arm and started over. Another line of ink of some sort scratched into my flesh. The second expression of his emotions, this time on the back of my upper arm.

The conclusion of the second tattoo came with another abrupt orgasm. It took me by surprise, and I cried out, Connor following me over the edge with shaking arms and a ragged cry.

Then his needle touched my backside. This time, he scrawled on me while lazily fucking me, my pussy full of his cum and my body his drawing board.

It was words he was writing, I finally realised. Different ones in each spot, judging by the length. He took his time, staying hard by the vibrator teasing him as much as it tormented me, and giving me no let-up from his onslaught.

I took it.

At no point did I consider telling him to stop. I’d promised him I wouldn’t again, and I didn’t want to. But an insidious voice in my head whispered fear over what he was doing.